Keith shrugged, “He was drunk. It might mean nothing.”
Still, I felt uneasy. The next morning, over coffee, I told Lori what he’d said. She was calm, but I noticed a flicker of worry.
Later that day, after we returned, Lori was quieter than usual. I left with an odd sense that something was unresolved.
The next morning, I got a message from Lori: You saved my life.
When she called, she explained. Feeling unsettled, she’d left work early, arriving home to find the smell of gas in the kitchen. In their rush that morning, they hadn’t checked the stove. Had she come home later, it could have ended badly.
“And the bottles?” I asked.
“They weren’t what I thought,” she laughed. Ben had hidden antique perfume bottles he’d been collecting to surprise her for their anniversary, along with a planned trip to Paris.
Relieved and a bit embarrassed, I realized I’d trusted my instincts for the right reasons. And while Ben never knew I’d been the one to prompt Lori to check, she and I shared a quiet understanding.
Now, as they plan for Paris, I still wonder—was I right to tell her?