Ashton’s husband starts acting strangely during the hottest summer of their lives, locking doors, avoiding touch, hiding something under long sleeves. But when their five-year-old daughter blurts out a chilling secret, Ashton discovers a betrayal so bizarre, it forces her to reclaim something she didn’t realize she’d lost: herself.
This summer was brutal.
No breeze, no clouds, just a mean sun and a sidewalk that shimmered like boiling oil. Every time I stepped outside, it felt like my skin might split at the seams.
We’d swapped out the comforter for a sheet.
The fan never left my side of the bed. Our five-year-old, Carlie, ran around the house in a bathing suit like we lived on a beach. She basically lived in the kiddie pool we had gotten her for her birthday.
And yet, my husband, Alex, wore long sleeves.
Every single day.
At home. Outside. To the store.
In the house. Long sleeves, all day, every day.
At first, I thought that maybe he was self-conscious about his body. Alex had always been kind of private.
But then I noticed how he’d flinch when I reached for his arm. How he’d wait until I left the room to change, locking the bathroom door even when it was just me.
He’d smile whenever I asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Ashton,” he’d say, brushing past me, trying not to wince. “Just got used to the layers, I guess.
You know… for work and all that.”
But it wasn’t nothing.
One night, I walked past the bathroom and heard him talking on the phone.
“I’m not keeping it from Ashton forever, Mom,” he said, his voice strained. “She’ll understand when I tell her.
I just need a moment. Let me figure it out, please.”
I paused at the door. Moments later, the light flipped off, and I could hear Alex get into bed.
The next morning, while Carlie and I were making scrambled eggs, Alex came in and smiled like everything was perfectly fine.
Like I hadn’t overheard some strange conversation…
“I’m heading over to my mom’s place,” he said. “She needs help around the house. Carlie, do you want to come?”
“Too hot,” she said.
“I’ll stay with Mommy and have popsicles.”
At first, I believed him. Angela’s been dramatic since the day I met her. But still, why would she need Alex so much?
If she needed someone to lift furniture or install a new ceiling fan or whatever, then it made sense that he’d go. But this seemed excessive.
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