Vitamin C Paranoia

Elara found the orange bottle on his nightstand—a generic vitamin C supplement she'd never purchased. This was the third thing in a week. First the new ethernet cable snaking behind the TV stand, then the encrypted messaging app on his phone, now this. Her husband of seven years was becoming a stranger in increments.

She started swimming again, something she hadn't done since college. The pool at the Y was quiet at 5 AM, the water cold enough to shock her out of the spiraling thoughts. That's where she met Marcus, the night security guy who worked at the tech firm where David was a systems analyst. Marcus never said anything explicit, but his eyes held knowledge.

"Your husband's project," he mentioned one morning as she toweled her hair. "It's called Sentinel. That's all I can say."

Elara went home and Googled. Domestic surveillance software. marketed as 'relationship protection.' The reviews praised its ability to monitor partners' texts, locations, even keystrokes. David wasn't cheating—he was playing spy in their own marriage.

That evening, she watched him across the dinner table. He looked tired, thinner. The vitamin C was because his immune system was struggling, not some secret affair. The cable was for faster data processing at home, not a secret lover's entertainment. But the monitoring software—that was real.

She remembered the fights they'd stopped having. The late nights he said were work stress. The way he knew she'd called her sister before she mentioned it. The email about her therapy sessions that he claimed he'd never opened.

"David," she said, setting down her wineglass. "Are you monitoring me?"

His fork paused halfway to his mouth. The silence stretched between them like the cable behind the TV, connecting everything and nothing at all.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he said finally. "After what happened with your mother, I worry."

Her mother had descended into paranoia before her diagnosis. The irony was almost funny—David watching Elara for signs of the very breakdown he was causing.

She packed that night. Not because she was leaving him, but because she needed to swim in water that wasn't contaminated. She needed to take her vitamins without him watching her throat move. She needed to remember what privacy tasted like.

Maybe they'd find their way back. Maybe not. But for now, Elara needed to stop being someone else's data point and start being a person again.