A Secret Kept By My Wife

"Chamomile, lavender, valerian root, and passionflower."

Mason read the lab report word by word, like a judge delivering a criminal verdict.

"They're all herbs used for calming the nerves. Leon, Alice has been slipping this stuff into your milk every single night to knock you out."

The report didn't explicitly say "sleeping pills", but looking at the components made my fingers go completely cold.

"It's just for relaxation. Maybe she just wanted me to rest well—"

"Rest well?" Mason's voice shot up, drawing looks from across the room. He quickly dropped back to a harsh whisper.

"She doesn't want you to rest well. She wants you dead to the world. If you're not completely knocked out, how is she supposed to get up in the middle of the night to sniff that pillow? How is she supposed to make those calls? How is she supposed to do all the things she doesn't want you to see?"

I gripped the report, the paper crumpling into a tight ball inside my fist.

I took the afternoon off.

Sitting in my car, I scrolled through Alice's bank statements.

A recurring expense jumped out at me—50 bucks every single month, paid to Harmony Herbal Apothecary for 11 consecutive months.

Which meant that she had started buying the herbs regularly right after Dad passed away.

I drove over to the clinic.

It was a small, unassuming storefront squeezed between a neighborhood supermarket and a lottery shop.

"Hi, a customer named Alice Carr has a long-term prescription filled here."

"Are you a relative?"

"I'm her husband."

The clerk behind the counter tapped on the computer, scrolling through rows of prescription history.

"Ah, yes. Ms. Carr is prescribed a formula to calm the nerves and aid sleep."

"Did she say who it was for?"

The clerk looked up at me, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. "She said it was for her husband. She mentioned that he suffers from chronic insomnia, frequent nightmares, and talks in his sleep."

"Talk about what?"

"She didn't give details. She only said you repeat one word over and over every night."

"What word?" I asked.

"Dad."

After leaving the apothecary, I sat on the curb for a long time.

I had no memory of having nightmares, let alone yelling out for anyone in my sleep.

But I did remember one morning when Alice had looked at me with bloodshot eyes and said, "You were shouting again last night."

I had asked her what I was shouting.

But she hadn't said a single word. She just poured me a cup of milk, and it had been a cup every night since.

When I got home at 8:30 pm, Alice wasn't there.

A cup of milk covered with a thermal lid sat on the coffee table, with a note tucked beneath it. "I have a late meeting tonight. Drink the milk while it's warm."

I poured the milk down the sink.

Just then, the front door clicked open.

It wasn't Alice.

It was Jessica Burns, Alice's best friend and the head of the local community union. She was the kind of woman who commanded every room she walked into, with a voice loud enough to shake the walls.

She threw her bag onto the couch and immediately started drilling into me the second she stepped past the entryway.

"Leon, are you looking into Alice?"

"Me?"

"You went to the apothecary? The clerk told Alice."

I froze.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" She ripped her coat off and flung it over the armrest. "Do you have any clue how much Alice has done for you?"

"She's drugging my milk—"

"It's an herbal concoction! Herbs! She got that prescription because she was worried about your sleep! Paid for it out of her own pocket! She was too afraid to even let you know!"

Jessica jabbed her index finger through the air, nearly poking me in the nose. "You call that drugging you?"

"Then why didn't she just tell me?"

"Tell you? Don't you know your own temper? Would you ever admit to having nightmares? Would you ever admit to crying out for your dad in the middle of the night?"

"I didn't—"

"You did." Jessica's voice suddenly dropped, and that abrupt softness hurt far worse than any shouting.

"Alice gets woken up by your night terrors every single night. She's not hiding it because she's afraid to tell you. She's doing it because she's afraid you'll—"

She caught herself.

"Afraid of what?"

"Nothing."

"Afraid of what?"

Jessica simply grabbed her bag and walked toward the door.

She paused at the threshold but didn't turn around. "Leon, there are things that would completely break you if you found out right now. She's trying to protect you."

"Finish what you're saying—"

"She told me to pass you a message." Jessica's hand rested on the doorknob.

"Before your dad passed, he told Alice something. And that conversation is something you aren't ready to hear."