“Tom, we need to talk,” I said, my voice trembling.
He looked up from his plate, concern etched on his face. “What is it, honey?”
“I followed you last night,” I said softly. “You got up again and left the house. You went to… her house.”
Tom’s face paled, and he set his fork down, staring at me in shock. “What are you talking about?”
“You were sleepwalking, Tom. You went to your ex-wife’s house. You knocked on the door. Why?” I asked, my voice breaking.
He shook his head, looking more confused than ever. “I… I don’t remember any of that. Are you sure?”
I nodded, tears threatening to spill over. “I’m sure, Tom. I saw it with my own eyes.”
He looked down, his hands trembling. “I don’t know why I did that. I guess… I guess I miss her sometimes. She was a big part of my life. But I love you. I need you to know that.”
I looked at him, my heart aching. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep this to yourself?”
Tom sighed, tears forming in his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think I was still hung up on her. It’s just… sometimes I feel guilty. Like I shouldn’t miss her, but I do.”
I reached out, taking his hand in mine. “It’s okay to miss her, Tom. She was a part of your life. But I need to know what’s going on with you. We need to get through this together.”
He nodded, squeezing my hand. “I promise. No more secrets. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”
We sat there in silence, the weight of his confession settling between us. It was a lot to take in, but I knew we had to face it together.
A few days later, we sat in the waiting room of Dr. Matthews, a specialist in sleep disorders. The room was warm and inviting, with soft music playing in the background. I held Tom’s hand, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope.
Tom described the incidents as best as he could, while I filled in the details he couldn’t remember. Dr. Matthews listened intently, occasionally jotting down notes.
