When Pam’s husband insists that they sleep in separate rooms, she feels hurt and confused. As the nights pass, strange noises coming from his room make her suspicious. Is he hiding something? One night, curiosity gets the better of her, and she heads for his door, hoping to discover the truth behind the noise.
I watched James clear his bedside table, my heart skipping a beat with every item he placed in a small wicker basket.
Five years ago, a car accident left me paralysed from the waist down. Since then, James had been my rock. Now, as he packed his things, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my world was falling apart all over again.
‘I’ll still be here if you need me, Pam,’ he said, his voice soft but firm. ‘It doesn’t change anything.’
‘You’re just not going to be in the same room anymore,’ I muttered.
James nodded. ‘Like I said, I just need more freedom while I sleep.’
I nodded, unable to speak. How could I tell him that this changed everything? That the thought of sleeping alone in this big bed terrified me?
When he left the room with the basket in his hands, I was overcome with a wave of uncertainty. The thought that James might no longer be able to bear sleeping next to me made my chest tighten with fear.
The following weeks were filled with endless doubts. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if James regretted staying with me after the accident. Was I too much of a burden? Had he finally reached his limit?
Then the night-time noises began.
It started with faint scratches and muffled thuds coming from James’s new room at the end of the corridor. At first, I put it down to him settling into his new place. But as the sounds grew louder and more frequent, my mind began to race.
What was he doing in there? Was he… packing his things? Planning an escape? Or, worse, was there someone else in there?
Night after night, those sounds tormented me.
I strained my ears, trying to make sense of the shuffling and the occasional clang of metal. My imagination ran wild, coming up with scenarios, each more heartbreaking than the last.
One day, as I walked past the door to his room, I couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. I reached out and grabbed the doorknob. I was going to see for myself what he was doing in there.
But the door was locked.
I stared at her in shock. Sleeping in separate rooms was one thing, but now he was locking me in his bedroom. Perhaps he had been doing this all along, and I hadn’t noticed.
A heavy sadness settled in my heart. Now, more than ever, I felt like I had lost James forever. He probably felt guilty for dumping me outright, and now… now he was tormenting me instead.
That evening, when he came home from work, I confronted him.
‘Do you think I want to leave you?’ James stared at me across the dinner table. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘Separate rooms…’ I looked down at my plate and stirred some rice into it. ‘I don’t want you to feel burdened by me.’
‘I told you, I just want to sleep alone,’ he snapped. ‘I… you know I’m a restless sleeper. I don’t want to hurt you.’
It hadn’t been a problem before, but I just nodded. How had our relationship deteriorated to the point where he couldn’t be honest with me anymore?
That night, the sounds were louder than ever. I couldn’t take it anymore. Ignoring the pain that shot through my body, I climbed into my wheelchair.
The journey down the hallway was agonising, but I pushed forward, driven by a desperate need to know the truth.
As I approached James’s door, the air seemed to grow even colder. The house creaked and groaned around me, as if warning me to turn back. But I couldn’t. Not now.
With a trembling hand, I reached for the door handle. My heart was beating so hard that it felt like it was about to jump out of my chest. Slowly, I turned the handle. This time, the door was unlocked.
‘James?’ I called, opening the door.
What I saw brought tears to my eyes and left me speechless.
James stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by a pile of broken furniture, paint cans and tools. He looked up at me, surprise reflected on his face, but then his expression softened into a mischievous smile.
‘You weren’t supposed to see this,’ he said, running his hand through his hair.
I blinked, trying to understand what was happening. ‘What… what does this all mean?’
James stepped aside, revealing a small wooden structure behind him. ‘It’s a lift,’ he explained. ‘To make it easier for you to get in and out of bed. I know we’ve been struggling with this for a long time.’
I scanned the room, noticing details I hadn’t seen at first glance. A beautifully painted bedside table with drawers was just the right height for me to reach from my chair. Sketches and drawings covered every available surface.
‘I’ve been working on this for our anniversary,’ James confessed, his voice soft and warm. ‘I know you were frustrated with how difficult it was to get around the house. I wanted to make things easier for you.’
Tears welled up in my eyes as I realised the full weight of his words. All this time, when I thought he was distancing himself, he had been working tirelessly to make our home more accessible for me.
Then James went to the corner of the room and took out a small, beautifully wrapped box.
‘This is part of it too,’ he said, carefully placing the box on my lap.
With trembling hands, I unwrapped the gift. Inside was a custom-made foot warmer — something I had needed for a long time but had never dared to buy.
‘I wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable even on the hardest days,’ James explained, a shy smile playing on his lips.
I looked up at him, my eyes blurred with tears. ‘But… why separate rooms? Why all the secrecy?’
James knelt down next to my wheelchair and took my hands in his.
“I needed space to work without spoiling the surprise. And to be honest, Pam, I was afraid I’d miss something if we were together every night. You know I’m terrible at keeping secrets from you.”
A laugh escaped my chest, surprising us both. It was true: James could never keep secrets from me for long. The thought of him trying so hard to keep this secret was both touching and amusing.
‘I’m so sorry I made you worry,’ he continued, running his thumb along the back of my hand.
‘That was never my intention,’ he continued. ‘I just wanted to do something special for you to show you how much I love you and that I’m here for the long haul.’
I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against his. ‘Oh, James,’ I whispered. ‘I love you too. Very much.’
We stayed like that for a moment, basking in the warmth of our renewed connection. When I finally pulled away, I couldn’t help but smile at the mess around us.
‘So, do you need help finishing these projects?’ I asked.
James grinned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. ‘I’d love to. We can work on them together and make this place truly ours.’
As we began discussing plans and ideas, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. The room that had once symbolised distance and suspicion was now a testament to James’ love and devotion.
A few weeks later, on our wedding anniversary, we unveiled the renovation in our bedroom. The lift system had been installed, as had the furniture James had custom-made.
Watching him carry his things into our room and place them on the bedside table, I felt a surge of emotion.
‘Welcome back,’ I said quietly as he climbed into bed next to me.
James pulled me close and kissed me on the top of my head. ‘I never left, Pam. And I never will.’
As we settled in for the night, I realised that our love, like the room around us, had been transformed. What had once seemed like a growing distance was actually such a deep love that it had found new ways to express itself.
In the end, it wasn’t about sleeping in the same bed or even being in the same room. It was about what we were willing to do for each other, what sacrifices we were willing to make, and the love that bound us together through it all.
