Chapter 7: The Cold Wall

Her follow-up text arrived: “Everything okay?” The casualness, the innocent tone—like nothing in the world had changed—made my skin crawl.

I know Natalie too well. She’s been cold to me for the past two years. No matter how much I tried to please her or even yelled in frustration, it was hard to get any reaction. She never took the initiative to contact me, and whether she answered my calls depended on her mood.

I could count on one hand the times she’d sent me a text just to check in. We’d drifted apart, sharing a roof but living in different emotional zip codes. I’d stopped expecting affection and started measuring our marriage in small, tense exchanges.

If Natalie really had a clear conscience, she’d just ignore my call, not actively probe with a message.

That extra message—her sudden curiosity—was a red flag waving right in my face. Natalie never checked up on me, not unless she had something to hide.

I snapped photos of the prenatal check-up slip and discharge summary as evidence, then put them back exactly where I found them in her clothes.

I used my phone’s camera, making sure the timestamp was clear. My hands shook, but I was methodical, tucking the papers back with surgical precision. If Natalie noticed I’d touched her things, the game would be up.

Then I replied to her message: “Nothing, just wanted to ask which of the clothes you brought back from the trip need washing.”

I kept my tone casual, like a husband who cared about laundry and nothing else. I tried to add a little smiley face but deleted it at the last second, afraid it’d seem off.

Natalie replied almost instantly: “Don’t touch my suitcase. I’ll handle it myself when I get back.”

Her reply landed hard, her possessiveness practically radiating through the screen. The suitcase, the very thing she’d always left for me to unpack, was now suddenly off-limits.

Looking at her message, my heart turned icy cold.

There it was—a wall as clear as glass between us. A line I wasn’t supposed to cross. I felt the last bit of warmth drain away, leaving me shivering, even in our well-heated house.