Because I still didn’t know what he fantasized about, I realized. That was the secret that I really wanted revealed.

I looked at the open envelope, which meant that now John would know I had seen it. The minute he saw the open telephone bill, he would know. I folded the bill exactly as I had found it and put it back into the envelope. Then I went to the kitchen to dig through the junk-drawer and found a glue stick to rub along the flap of the envelope.

Pressing my fingers along the edge, I made sure it was closed. It was a little wrinkled and torn, and that might stop him for a moment, but I doubted it. He usually tore through bills pretty fast.

I put the telephone bill onto his desk with the rest of that day’s mail and left it.

When he came home from work that night, I kissed him hello and asked him about his day, and we had a good dinner and snuggled on the couch for a while. The only thing I did differently that night was drinking an entire pot of black tea. When we climbed into bed, I rolled over and feigned sleep, but I stayed wide awake. Between the caffeine tea and the adrenaline, I couldn’t possibly drift off, and I didn’t.

I heard John fade in and out, something I normally don’t get to hear. I was the one who always fell asleep first, usually within the first five minutes of my head hitting the pillow, and he always joked with me that I could sleep through a terrorist attack.

John, however, took longer to settle in, pulling the covers, rolling around.

I watched the light shadows play on the closet and waited. John fell asleep. I could hear the deep, even sound of his breathing. The clock read 1:39 a.m. In spite of the tea, my eyes were growing heavy. I realized, disappointed, that he wasn’t going to make any calls tonight. I closed my eyes and started to drift, when I felt a small vibration on the bed. I held still, listening.