For years, the country house had been our retreat. On weekends, my husband and I would drive out of the city to plant flowers, harvest vegetables, and enjoy quiet evenings away from the noise of daily life. But recently, something changed. He always found excuses not to go—work deadlines, sudden fatigue, or vague errands that kept him home. At first, I didn’t question it. Everyone has phases when life feels heavy. But then one afternoon, while chatting with our neighbor, she casually mentioned, “I saw your husband at the country house yesterday.”
My heart skipped a beat. That couldn’t be right—he had told me he was at work. The unease grew inside me. Why had he lied? Was he hiding something? The following weekend, when he again refused to go, I quietly followed him after he left the house. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw his car parked by the country house. My pulse quickened as I walked up the familiar path, my imagination spinning with possible explanations.
When I opened the door, the air felt different. Gone was the comforting scent of pinewood and fresh earth. Instead, the room was filled with an unfamiliar, heavy odor. His workbench—once scattered with garden tools—was neatly arranged but cluttered with unusual items I didn’t recognize. In the corner, I noticed a table with papers covered in symbols, sketches, and strange notes. Old photographs were pinned to the wall—some of us, others of people I didn’t know. Some had markings across them, like part of an unfinished project.
Before I could gather my thoughts, the floor creaked. My husband appeared from the shadows, his face pale as he realized I was standing there. His voice trembled: “Please—it’s not what you think.” I managed only a whisper. “What is all this?” He raised his hands, his expression torn between fear and honesty. “It’s research. I’ve been studying things I don’t fully understand yet. I didn’t want to involve you until I knew more.” His explanation sounded strange, but there was sincerity in his eyes. In that moment, I realized this discovery was less about betrayal and more about secrets he wasn’t ready to share. Standing there in the dim light, I knew our lives had changed. Whatever he had been.
