Evidence in the Morning Light

The vitamins on the counter tell a story Eleanor doesn't want to read. His evening regimen—D3, omega-3, that expensive multivitamin she orders from a boutique wellness brand—sits untouched for three days running. Marcus, who treats his body like a temple, who measures his supplements with the precision of a chemist, has stopped caring.

That's when she knows it's serious.

She becomes something she despises—a spy in her own marriage, tracking his movements through the digital footprint he thinks he's erased. The hat he wore to their anniversary dinner, that charcoal fedora he'd bought on a whim in Montreal, smells of perfume that isn't hers. Gardenia, cloying and sweet, the kind young women wear before they learn subtlety. He'd left it on the hook by the door, careless as a teenager.

Their cat, Milhous, watches from the kitchen counter with those yellow judging eyes. He knows something has shifted in the household's careful ecosystem. Eleanor catches herself talking to the animal in those long empty evenings, projecting her betrayal onto his indifferent gaze. "He's not coming home tonight, is he, Milhous?" No response, just that slow blink that conveys absolutely nothing.

What cuts deepest isn't the sex—it's the indifference. The way he's stopped asking about her day, how the texture of his hair under her fingers has become foreign, like touching a stranger. She runs her hands through those silver-flecked strands in bed and realizes she doesn't know this man anymore, if she ever did.

The vitamins remain untouched on the counter. She reaches for one, dry and hard against her tongue, and swallows without water. Some petty part of her wants him to come home to an empty bottle, to see that she's taking better care of herself than he ever did.

Milhous jumps down with a soft thud, abandoning her to the quiet. The hat still hangs by the door, gardenia ghost clinging to its brim. She will pack tomorrow. But tonight, she sleeps in the middle of the bed, claiming all the space he abandoned.