When I knocked on the bathroom door and heard my husband’s tense voice, I knew something was wrong. But nothing could have prepared me for the fact that he had been hiding behind that locked door for months.
I’d always considered myself lucky. Liam and I had been married for twenty-five years, and for the most part, life had been…comfortable. We’d had our ups and downs like any couple, but we were solid.
At least that’s what I used to think. Lately, things have been different. Not in the sense that things have been different: no big fights or dramatic changes, but that small changes have been happening that make you question your own instincts.
The strangest of them all? Liam’s sudden obsession with the bathroom.
Liam had never been the type to spend much time in there. I’d always teased him about how quickly he could get in and out, joking that he was some sort of efficiency expert. But about six months ago, he started taking his time. Really taking his time.
It wasn’t just a few extra minutes, he would disappear for hours. At first I brushed it off. ‘Maybe he’s just getting old,’ I told myself. Everyone deserves a little alone time. I didn’t want to be one of those wives who grumbled over every little thing.
But then the noises started.
One night, as I was folding laundry on the bed, I heard a thud. I paused, listening carefully. It was there again: this time a low grunt, followed by heavy breathing.
I stood up and hesitated in the corridor before knocking softly. ‘Liam?’ I called through the door, trying to keep my tone casual. ‘Everything okay in there?’
There was a pause. ‘Yeah, just… taking my time,’ he replied, his voice slightly strained.
I frowned, but didn’t continue. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well? But the days were turning into weeks, and his trips to the loo were getting longer and longer. He spent more and more time behind the locked door, and every day I grew more anxious.
It wasn’t just the time, but the secrecy that bothered me. He started locking the door every time, something he had never done before. When I casually asked him about it one morning over a cup of coffee, he nonchalantly replied, ‘Can’t a bloke have privacy?’.
I tried to ignore it, but curiosity was gnawing at me, especially because of the strange sounds. ‘Privacy for what exactly?’ I muttered to myself one night. Then I began to worry that something more was going on.
One night, after another long trip to the bathroom, I couldn’t help myself anymore. ‘Liam, why do you always sit there for so long?’ I asked, my voice sounding sharper than I wanted it to.
He looked at me irritably. ‘Why do you always ask that? I just… I can’t do it any faster, okay?’
‘Do what faster?’ I asked, perplexed.
‘Just leave it alone, Naomi,’ he snapped, storming into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
I tried to forget about it, but every night, lying in bed and listening to those strange sounds coming from the bathroom, I felt my imagination run wild. Maybe he was hiding something? Maybe he’s in trouble?
Just the thought of him keeping secrets from me after all these years made my stomach churn. I considered every possibility, even the worst: maybe he was seeing someone else.
One afternoon, everything changed. Liam had locked himself in the bathroom again and I was in the kitchen when his phone rang on the counter.
I glanced at it absent-mindedly, expecting to see some work-related message or news. But no: it was his mum, Meredith, calling.
‘Liam, it’s your mum calling!’ I exclaimed, tapping the countertop impatiently.
A grunt came from the bathroom. ‘Can you get that? I’m busy!’ His voice was muffled, strained.
I hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone. ‘Hi, Meredith,’ I said, trying not to drag out the conversation. After a quick exchange about an upcoming doctor’s appointment, we hung up.
But just as I was about to close the phone, something caught my attention – a video appeared on the screen. Judging by the thumbnail, it had been recorded just an hour ago.
My heart raced. Before I could stop myself, I pressed the play button. And when the video started, I felt my breath catch.
Liam was in the bathroom, dressed in workout clothes, of all things…exercising? He was doing push-ups, sweat dripping down his face, he groaned with each repetition.
Then he moved on to squats, breathing heavily and straining in a way I had never seen before.
My first reaction was relief. Was that what was going on in there? My imagination had taken me to the darkest of places, and here he was…doing some awkward yoga poses. I even giggled, a combination of amusement and disbelief flashing through my mind.
I walked down the corridor, heart still pounding, and knocked on the bathroom door, harder this time. ‘Liam! Open the door. We need to talk.’