At first, the flowers felt like a spark returning to our marriage. Sixteen years together changes things—romance fades into routines and schedules. So when Dan began bringing bouquets every Friday, I let myself believe we were reconnecting. But then I found a small handwritten note tucked inside one arrangement. It wasn’t addressed to me, and it stirred a worry I couldn’t shake.
The note simply said, “See you next Friday,” and suddenly every little detail seemed suspicious. Different explanations about where he bought the flowers, forgotten wrappers, petals that looked like they were picked instead of purchased. My heart felt tight with questions I didn’t know how to ask. I barely slept, acting normal around our kids while imagining the worst. I needed clarity more than comfort.
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