His Secret Notes Were For Her

I’ve been married to Oliver for three years.

Scrolling through our recent text logs, the longest message from him is "Not coming home for dinner tonight." No nicknames, no emojis, and every period is in its proper, formal place.

When we got married, we made a pact to respect each other's boundaries. We both knew the passcodes to each other’s phones, but we had never once snooped.

I always thought that was just who he was—logical, private, a man of few words.

Until tonight. He was in the shower, and his phone was lying on the sofa. The screen lit up.