PAULINE
Marcus had a ritual.
Every night before bed, he would brush his teeth for exactly two minutes, splash cold water on his face, and then sit on his side of the bed reading whatever business report had followed him. We had done this for the many years we had been married. I knew his routine the way I knew my own heartbeat, and I had stopped finding comfort in either.
I was in the bathroom, leaning over the sink, when my phone pinged multiple times on the counter. I didn't think anything of it. I finished washing my face, patted my skin dry with the hand towel, and walked back into the bedroom.
Only to find Marcus was holding my phone.
He was sitting on his side of the bed, calm as anything, reading whatever had come through. It was locked but he would have seen something. The fact that he didn't even look up when I walked in sent alarm bells ringing in my head.
"Marcus." I crossed the room and took it from his hand before he could pull it back. "What happened to privacy?"
