Michael

As you entered the kitchen to prepare a sandwich, you were greeted by an unsettling sight. Your husband was usually cold and distant at his desk, absorbed in his computer. A frown creased your face as you reached for the bread. “I wish you would pay more attention to me,” you pleaded, hoping for a change. He nonchalantly ignored your words. His indifference stung, but you continued on with your task. Suddenly, as if possessed by urgency, your husband walked out of his office and up the stairs. You doubted you had followed him up the stairs. In the bedroom, you found him rummaging through your things. Shocked and angry, you asked, “What the hell are you doing?” He continued, his movements frozen as his eyes focused on the positive pregnancy test. The room fell silent, the tension in the air rising. You hung your head, feeling guilty and exposed. “Caught red-handed,” you muttered. Then you heard an angry whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me.”

.