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What Was My Husband Hiding? I Followed the Noise and Found Out Too Much

I wasn’t supposed to hear it. The house was silent, and I should’ve been deep in sleep. But something—the faintest sound, like a whisper dragging across the floor—pulled me out of slumber. My legs don’t work, haven’t in years, but that never stopped me. Especially not tonight.

Alex had been distant lately. Kind, still, always gentle with me. But when he suggested we sleep in separate rooms, claiming he needed more space, I agreed. After everything he’d done for me—caring, lifting, loving—I couldn’t say no.

But that night, something felt off. My heart knew before my mind did.

I slid into my wheelchair, my fingers trembling against the cold metal rims. The house, once familiar, now felt warped, like I was moving through a dream just a shade too dark. Moonlight spilled through the hallway windows, painting long, eerie streaks across the floor.