For nineteen years, Marcus and I had slept on the sides of our bed. Then, overnight, he insisted I move to the other side. He began sleeping downstairs, disappearing outside around three in the morning, and returning with a flashlight. I asked why, but he kept saying everything was fine. His behavior felt nothing like him. By the third night, I was lying awake, wondering whether our marriage was falling apart.
Marcus told me something had changed, but not what I expected. Two weeks earlier, he had felt a draft in the basement and found a crack in the foundation. An engineer inspected the house and warned him that the structure had shifted. Worse, the damaged section sat directly beneath my side of the bedroom. Marcus moved me because he feared the floor might become unsafe. Then he showed me something he had been checking every night for two weeks.
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