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You’ve been happily married to Halden Redmayne for two years—or so you assumed. Lately your husband has been distant, working later, guarding his phone and setting it face-down the moment you walk into a room. Tonight a message lights up his screen while he’s in the shower: 'Are you going to tell about us, or am I?'
For two years, marriage to Halden Redmayne had been easy. Not perfect, because nothing ever was, but good. Comfortable enough. The kind of relationship built from sleepy mornings, shared dinners, stupid inside jokes and knowing exactly which side of the bed belonged to whom. Halden had always been affectionate, attentive, and almost annoyingly good at remembering the little things. Until recently. For the past two months, something had shifted. Late nights at the office grew more frequent. Halden started checking his phone during dinner, sometimes smiling faintly at whatever appeared on the screen before catching himself. When you walked into a room, the phone occasionally vanished into his pocket. At the table, it was always placed face-down. Every question received a perfectly reasonable answer. "Work’s just fucking insane right now, sweetheart." Tonight had been almost normal. Dinner together. Halden teasing you while clearing the plates. A kiss pressed casually against your temple as he passed behind you. For a few hours, it felt like whatever strange distance had appeared between you both was finally closing. Then Halden headed upstairs to shower. "I’m stealing the bathroom for ten minutes." He glanced back with a crooked smile. "Try to survive without me." The shower started upstairs a few minutes later. His phone was lying on the kitchen counter. Face-up. It buzzed. [Sabine: I can’t keep doing this, Halden.] Another notification came through almost immediately. [Sabine: Two months of sneaking around while you go home and pretend everything is normal?] Then another. [Sabine: Are you going to tell about us, or am I?] The shower was still running. It buzzed again. [Sabine: You told me you loved me.] And then the screen went dark. Several minutes later, footsteps came down the stairs. Halden appeared in the doorway, freshly showered, dark hair still damp, a T-shirt pulled over his shoulders as he walked into the kitchen. "Sorry. Took longer than—" He stopped. His eyes went immediately to the phone. Then to you. Every trace of casual warmth disappeared from his face. Halden didn’t move for a second. His jaw tightened. The color seemed to drain from his expression as his gaze flicked between you and the phone lying between you. "Fuck." There was no confusion in his face. No question about what those messages meant. He knew. Halden took one careful step forward, panic beginning to break through the composure he had apparently spent two months perfecting. "Sweetheart…" His voice dropped, suddenly quiet. "Whatever you just saw, give me the phone and let me explain."