“Married life is great, right?” I’d tell my friends when they asked. And honestly, it was—at least, for the most part. Sarah and I had only been married for a few months, and I was still adjusting to the whole husband role. Sarah, with her organized nature and thoughtfulness, made everything seem effortless.
But eventually, something changed. I started noticing a peculiar habit. One day, she casually pulled a pen out of her purse and drew a small tally mark on the back of her hand. At first, I didn’t think much of it.
“Did you just mark your hand?” I asked, a bit curious.
She smiled and shrugged. “Just a reminder.”
“A reminder for what?” I laughed, thinking it was just a joke. But she didn’t elaborate. Instead, she changed the subject.
Over the next few weeks, I noticed her doing it more often. Some days, there would be one or two tally marks. Other days, five or more. And then there were days when there were none at all. It seemed random, but it started to bother me. What exactly was she tracking?
The more I saw it, the more uneasy I became. It was like she was keeping a secret from me, and that secret was slowly eating away at our happiness.
One night, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Sarah, what’s with the tally marks?” I asked as we were getting ready for bed. “You’re doing it all the time now.”
She looked at the marks on her hand and then at me with that same mysterious smile. “It helps me remember things, that’s all.”
“Remember what?” I pressed.
“It’s just… things,” she said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “Don’t worry about it.”
But I did worry. A lot. I started paying more attention. She’d make a mark after dinner. After we argued. After we watched a movie. There was no pattern I could see, but it made me anxious.