Oblivious and Deranged Husband

"Can you stay over at my place for the time I'll be gone?" I asked my best friend.

I am Kyle, 46, I am married to my lovely wife, Chloe, 44, we have two sons. We have our regular once a week, sometimes twice, nothing fancy. We live in a cozy three bed apartment in a small city.

I was being posted to a foreign country for a period of six months for work.

I haven't slept in two nights. Maybe three. Time's blurry. Six months away is a lifetime--a blank space where anything could happen. People fall apart in less time. Marriages collapse over long weekends. She says, "Don't worry, I'll be fine." Fine? That's what people say before everything goes to hell. The cursed F-word. I can't just leave her alone--she'll get bored, and bored turns into lonely and lonely turns into some dude's shoes at the door.

So, I asked Oliver, my best friend since childhood, "Could you stay over at my place while I'm gone. We got a spare room, don't worry about the rent or bills."

He blinked. Said, "You serious?"

I said, "Dead serious. It's a win-win."

Look, Oliver hasn't had steady work in years. Freelancing, odd gigs, some startup nonsense that never started-- he's been crashing with his cousin in an old one-room apartment. This is a good deal for him. No rent. No bills. Just be present. Help out a little. Watch TV. Exist.

He said, "Man, that would actually help me a lot. And I will make sure to find a job and move out by the time you are back. These six months will be god sent."

I said, "Exactly. You help me, I help you."

He said, "So... like, I'm keeping an eye on her and the kids?"

I said, "No, not like surveillance. Just... awareness. Passive awareness. Make sure she's okay. Make sure the house doesn't feel empty. That's all. You could help around if you'd want, but hear me out, leave it to my wife. Just be there. Be the man of the house."

Because I trust her. I do. I just don't trust... the quiet. The gaps. That sliver of time between putting the kids to bed and turning off the lights. That's when bad decisions stretch their legs apart.

He'll be helpful. He'll play with the kids, maybe fix the microwave door that's been groaning like a dying raccoon.

And if someone even thinks about stepping into that house uninvited? Oliver's there. First responder, he will protect my wife and kids. He will keep my family safe.

This is smart. Strategic. This is defence, not paranoia.

I'll finally get some sleep, on the flight.

Work's been brutal. Long hours, cold weather, people talking in acronyms I still don't understand. But I'm staying focused. Providing. Making this count.

Oliver's been a champ.

A few weeks into my work trip, during one of our routine calls. Something felt a little... off. It wasn't anything big, but I couldn't shake the sense that my wife was a bit more... playful than usual.

"Hey, how's everything?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.

"Oh, you know," she replied with that light tone she sometimes gets. "Everything's fine. Just... holding down the fort."

"How's Oliver? Is he still helping out with the kids?" I asked, not thinking much of it.

He'd been staying with us, and I trusted him to keep things running smoothly.

"Yeah, he's been a huge help," she said. "He's really good with them, and you know, he keeps me company too. It's kind of like having a backup around here. It's been nice."

I smiled. "Good, good. I'm glad he's there for you all. Sounds like everything's in good hands."

She laughed lightly, but there was something a little too chipper in her voice. "Oh, absolutely. You know, he's like a part of the family at this point. And he's always up for late-night chats so it's not exactly quiet around here."

I raised an eyebrow, a little confused. "Late-night chats, huh?"

"Mm-hmm," she hummed. "You know, just talking about random things. He has a way of keeping things... interesting."

Her tone lingered on that word--interesting--and I couldn't help but chuckle nervously. "I guess he's got that, uh, charm."

She paused for a second before responding, and there was something about the way she said it that made me feel... uneasy, like she was enjoying this too much.

"Yeah, he's... definitely got a way of making things lively around here," she added with an almost teasing tone. "But don't worry, I'm managing just fine without you."

I laughed it off, trying to brush the odd feeling that crept in. "I'm sure you're doing great. I trust you both. Just don't let him convince you to stay up too late, alright?"

She giggled. "Oh, don't worry. He's got his own routines. But I'll keep an eye on things... just for you."

I felt a strange sense of relief mixed with something else, like a flicker of doubt that I couldn't explain. But I told myself it was just the distance. It's easy to overthink things when you're far away, right?

"How's work treating you?" I asked, trying to change the topic.

"It's going as usual, a few 10ers (10-hour workdays) but otherwise its fine." She replied in a weary tone.

"Oh, tell me about it." I laughed, knowing I have to work 10ers minimum.

"Alright, just make sure everything's good. I'll be back before you know it," I said, trying to shake off the weird feeling.

"Of course," she replied smoothly. "Everything's great. See you soon."

We hung up, but I couldn't help but replay her words in my head. "He keeps me company." "Interesting." "Lively."

It all seemed harmless enough. But the way she said it, so casually--like she was enjoying something... that I wasn't part of--it made me pause for a second. I pushed it out of my mind. I trusted them both. There was nothing to worry about, right?

The plane landed, and all I could think about was getting back to my family. Six months felt like an eternity, and I was beyond ready to see my wife and kids. The long flights, the time zone shifts--they all just melted away as soon as I was back on familiar soil.

I pulled my luggage from the baggage claim, texting Oliver that I was finally home.

Me: "Back in town! Can't wait to see everyone!"

His reply was quick.

Oliver: "Awesome, man! We're all excited to have you back. See you soon!"

I was feeling a bit jetlagged but excited. I hailed a cab and told the driver to take me home, my mind racing with all the things I wanted to do. Play with the kids, give my wife a hug. I couldn't wait to just be in my own space again.

When I got to the house, the door opened before I even knocked. My wife was standing there, smiling brightly. She looked the same. She looked perfect. I gave her a big hug, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair.

"Welcome home, baby," she said softly. Her voice was warm, but there was something else there too, something I couldn't quite place. I shrugged it off, though. I was just so happy to be back.

The kids came running in, hugging me, and we all laughed and talked, catching up like I'd been gone for a week instead of six months. It felt normal. It felt like home.

Oliver was there too, of course. He was sitting at the kitchen table, his legs stretched out, looking relaxed and casual, like he belonged there. I didn't think much of it. He'd been helping out, staying with us. It made sense.

"Hey, man," I said, dropping my bags by the door. "Thanks again for keeping everything together. Really appreciate it."

"Anytime, bro," he said with that easy grin of his. "You know I've got your back."

It was almost like nothing had changed. He was always around, always helping with something--whether it was running errands, playing with the kids, or fixing things around the house. He was the perfect guest. The perfect friend.

Dinner was a bit of a blur. We all sat together, the kids talking excitedly about their school projects and weekend plans. My wife made a joke about how the house had never been so clean, and Oliver laughed along, always in on the joke.

After dinner, I went upstairs to unpack. I was looking forward to a quiet night, maybe watching some TV with my wife before heading to bed. But as I walked past the living room, I saw her sitting next to Oliver, their shoulders touching as they watched a movie. I stopped in the hallway for a moment, watching them.

"Is it okay if I just relax here for a bit?" she asked Oliver, her voice soft and kind.

"Of course," Oliver replied, his voice low. There was something about the way he said it, the way he was leaning just a little too close to her. But I pushed the thought away. They'd spent six months together. They had become close. I had to respect that.

I smiled at them from the doorway. "I'm going to take a shower," I said, keeping my tone light, my smile wide. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah, we're good," Oliver said, still with that grin. My wife smiled at me, but it was different than how she usually smiled. It was softer, almost like she was holding back something.

Later that night, I walked back into the living room, planning to watch some TV. My wife was sitting on the couch, and Oliver was standing in the kitchen, making some coffee. I didn't think much of it.

"You two doing okay?" I asked, trying to make conversation as I sat down.

"Yeah, just catching up," she said, her voice casual, too casual. She didn't seem in a rush to move from the couch. Normally, she'd be up, asking me about my day or getting ready for bed.

"I'll be right there," she added, but she didn't follow me when I went upstairs. Oliver lingered a bit longer, moving around the kitchen.

That night, my wife and I had sex. It was great. I'd been retaining for almost two weeks just for this night. The pressure of being away from her, the anticipation--it all built up, and when I finally came in her, it felt incredible. I came hard, and it was as if I could feel every twitch, every second of it. The release, the connection--it felt good. It felt like home. I pulled her close afterward, our bodies tangled up, the warmth of our skin against each other. As we snuggled, I felt that familiar sense of peace and contentment.

But then, something was off. Something in the air felt different, and I couldn't place it. Normally, this would've been the most comfortable and lovely part of the night. But there was an odd stillness, a tension that I couldn't shake. I felt her next to me, but her touch seemed less familiar somehow. I couldn't pinpoint what was wrong. She felt... distant. It wasn't anything she'd done; she was still my wife, still the person I knew.

I chalked it off to jetlag. I'd been on a plane for hours, traveling halfway around the world. My mind was probably just tired, overactive, looking for things that weren't there. Maybe I was just adjusting to being back after all that time.

"Are you okay baby?" I asked, trying to break the silence.

She nodded, her eyes meeting mine. "Yeah, just happy you're back," she said softly.

But the way she said it--there was something in her tone that didn't feel quite right.

Almost like she was saying it more to convince herself than to me.

I smiled, kissing her forehead. "Me too," I said, trying to push the weird feeling away. Everything was fine. I was just overthinking it.

But even as I lay there, drifting off to sleep, I couldn't ignore that sense of unease in the back of my mind. Something wasn't clicking, but I let myself fall asleep, convinced it was nothing. After all, I was finally home.

The next morning, I was up late, jetlagged but excited to be home. I made some coffee, and when I walked into the kitchen, I saw Oliver and my wife talking. He was standing behind her as she flipped through a magazine, their heads close.

"Morning, guys," I said, not thinking anything of it. They both looked up, smiled.

"Morning," she replied, her smile a little too wide, a little too rehearsed.

"I'll be right back," I said, walking out to get some fresh air. I just needed to clear my head. Being back home was overwhelming, and there was so much to do, so much to catch up on.

Throughout the day, everything seemed... fine. More normal than I thought it would be. Oliver and my wife were laughing together, but there was nothing unusual about it. She was still my wife, and he was still my friend.

Later that afternoon, Oliver and I sat down together while she was out running errands.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Oliver asked, a strange glint in his eyes that I couldn't quite read. "I mean, everything at home?"

I nodded, still unaware of any tension. "Yeah, of course. It's good to be back. You've really helped out a lot. I owe you big time, man."

"No problem at all," he said with a wink. "It's been good."

It felt like a normal day. I was just back from a long trip, and everything was settling into place.

But even then, I couldn't shake the sense that something was just a little... off. It was probably the jetlag, I told myself.

A couple of days later, Oliver came over to the house after work. He'd been staying in the spare room, and we'd been catching up every evening like old times. The kids were at soccer practice, and it was just the three of us in the living room.

Oliver sat down on the couch, a little more serious than usual. I noticed it right away.

"Everything alright?" I asked, leaning back in my chair. "You seem a bit off."

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at my wife. She was sitting on the couch, flipping through her phone. She didn't notice him staring at her for a second, but I did. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I got a job offer," he said, his voice sounding calmer than I expected. "In another city."

My wife looked up immediately, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? When did this happen?"

"Just today," Oliver replied. "It's a good opportunity. They've been wanting me for a while, and... well, it's a big step for me."

I was genuinely happy for him. Oliver had been struggling to find stable work for so long, and this seemed like a great chance for him. "Wow, that's awesome, man," I said with a grin. "Congrats! I'm really happy for you. When do you leave?"

Oliver gave me a small, tight-lipped smile. "I'm planning to leave in a few days. They need me to start soon."

I nodded, feeling a little sad at the thought of him leaving. He'd become such a big part of the household over the past six months. It would be different without him around, but I was glad he was moving on to bigger and better things.

"That's great news," I said, trying to keep it upbeat. "Really proud of you. We'll definitely miss you around here."

My wife, however, was quieter than I expected. She didn't immediately jump in with any excitement. Instead, she just nodded and gave Oliver a brief smile. "I'm glad you're moving forward," she said, though her tone didn't seem as enthusiastic as I thought it would be.

Oliver seemed to notice the lack of enthusiasm too. He shifted a bit uncomfortably on the couch before continuing. "Yeah, it's a big change, but I think it's time. You guys have been great to me. I'll miss this place."

"Of course," I said, walking over to clap him on the back. "You're always welcome here. You know that."

"Thanks," Oliver said, but his eyes lingered on my wife for a moment. She looked at him briefly, but didn't respond as warmly as I expected. There was something in the air that felt... off, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

I let the moment pass, thinking maybe I was just imagining things. After all, Oliver had been such a close friend and a great help while I was away. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't entirely right.