I slowly opened my eyes, the buzz from the wine keeping sleep at bay.
Staring into the pitch-black bedroom, I turned to glance at Betty, who lay quietly beside me, appearing so docile and serene.
I sighed.
Was I being overly suspicious, seeing shadows where there were none?
Yet, those nagging doubts clung to my mind, refusing to be dismissed: What was with the unusual scent of shower gel on Betty that day?
Where did the items we shopped for disappear to?
Perhaps there was a water outage, and Betty had to use a public bathhouse; maybe the items were sent overseas to Michael ahead of time...
These were the only explanations I could muster.
Through to the next morning, I barely slept.
My mind wrestled with these questions, and I dared not fall asleep, fearing I might miss something happening between Betty and Michael in the dead of night.
But as dawn broke, nothing had happened, and I endured a long, sleepless night.