When I first noticed my wife drawing small tally marks on her hand, I thought it was just a quirky habit. But as the marks increased and her explanations became more vague, I began to sense there was something deeper going on beneath the surface of our otherwise happy marriage.
“Married life is great, right?” I’d tell my friends. And for the most part, it was. Sarah and I had only been married a few months, and I was still learning what it meant to be a husband. She was so thoughtful, organized, and seemed to manage everything with ease.
Then things started to change.
One afternoon, I caught her making a tally mark on the back of her hand. It seemed odd, but I didn’t think much of it at first.
“Did you just mark your hand?” I asked, curious.
She smiled casually. “Just a little reminder.”
“A reminder for what?” I laughed, assuming it wasn’t anything serious. She just smiled and moved on to another topic.
But the tally marks kept showing up. Some days there were one or two; other days, more. And then, there were times when there were none at all. It all seemed random, but something inside me felt uneasy.
I tried to brush it off, but as the marks became more frequent, so did my concern. What was she keeping track of?
One evening, I decided to ask her directly. “Sarah, what’s with all the tally marks? You’ve been doing it for weeks now.”
She glanced at her hand and gave me the same vague smile. “It’s just a little thing I do. Don’t worry about it.”
But I was worried. The tally marks felt like a secret, and that secret was creating distance between us.
One night, after yet another round of unanswered questions, I noticed seven marks on her hand. Later, when she wasn’t looking, I saw her transfer them into a small notebook by her bedside. The next morning, when she was in the shower, I couldn’t resist. I opened the notebook and found it filled with pages of tally marks—68 in total.
Confused and a little alarmed, I couldn’t stop wondering what the marks represented.
Later that day, I tried again. “Sarah, please, just tell me what these marks mean. It’s driving me crazy.”
She sighed, clearly frustrated. “I told you, it’s just something I do. It’s not a big deal.”
But it was a big deal—to me. The tally marks were like a wall between us, growing higher with each passing day.
Then, one evening after another tense conversation, I saw her add four more marks. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to know what was happening.
I decided to take a break and went for a walk to clear my head. But when I returned, the tally had increased to 78.
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