The Guest Outside My Window

During my lunch break, a coworker leaned over to look at the new watch my husband had given me.

Fiona, why does the screw on the back of this watch look like its been messed with?

My stomach dropped. I grabbed a small precision tool from my desk and carefully unscrewed the backplate.

Inside was a micro-GPS tracker.

My mind raced, flashing back to all the times Jared had called me lately during my shifts, always saying, "I love you, babe," with a strange, frantic intensity. Yet when I came home, he wouldnt let me near him.

I threw the watch into my desk drawer, grabbed my car keys, and bolted out of the office.

I slammed my foot on the gas.

The world blurred outside the windows as my car tore down the road. The only thing spinning in my head was the image of that tracker.

I screeched to a halt in front of our apartment building, threw the car into park, and rushed through the lobby. I pressed the elevator button repeatedly, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The doors slid shut, lifting me to the seventeenth floor.

The moment they cracked open, I squeezed through and ran down the hallway to our door. I pounded on the wood with everything I had.

"Jared! Open the door!"

Silence.

"Open up, Jared! I know youre in there!" I screamed, throwing my fists against the door.

After what felt like an eternity, the door finally opened a fraction of an inch. Jared stood there in his silk robe, his hair slightly disheveled, his cheeks flushed a deep, guilty pink.

"Fiona? What are you doing back? Did something happen?" He gripped the doorknob, blocking the entryway.

I shoved past him and stormed inside.

The living room looked exactly as I had left it this morning.

"Are you out of your mind, Fiona?!" Jared yelled from behind me.

I ignored him and marched straight into our bedroom. I ripped the comforter off the bed. Empty. I pulled open the closet doors, then dropped to my knees to look underneath the bedframe.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, trailing after me, his voice trembling.

I spun around and ran into the master bathroom, ripping open the shower curtain. Nothing.

"What is wrong with you? Did something go wrong at work? You're scaring me." Jared reached out and grabbed my arm. His hand was ice-cold.

I flung his hand off. "Where is she?"

Jareds face went entirely pale. "Who? What are you talking about?"

Suddenly, a muffled commotion rose from the street below. There were shouts, followed by a mans sharp scream.

"She jumped! Someone fell from the balcony! I think it was the seventeenth floor!"

I froze.

The seventeenth floor. Our floor.

I lunged toward the bedroom window.

"Don't look!"

Jared threw himself in front of me, spreading his arms to block my path.

"Fiona! Please, don't look!" His face was white, his voice cracking with sheer panic.

"Get out of my way," I said, staring him down.

"I don't want you to see it! You'll have nightmares!" he wept, shaking his head, refusing to budge.

The more he resisted, the more I needed to see. I shoved him hard against the wall. He let out a muffled grunt, his knees buckling as he slid down to the floor.

I leaned out the window, looking down.

On the grass below, a few neighbors had gathered, pointing up at our building. But the lawn was empty. There was no blood, no body, no ambulance.

An older woman called out, "Where did she go? Weren't she hanging from the ledge just a second ago?"

Another woman replied, "You must be seeing things. There's no one there. Let's go inside." The crowd slowly began to disperse.

I pulled my head back in, suddenly drained of all strength. I turned around and looked at Jared, who was slumped against the wall.

On his face was an unmistakable, sickening look of relief.

I walked over to him. "Where is she?"

He lowered his head.

I knelt, grabbing his jaw, forcing his face up. "I asked you a question. Who was at that window?"

Jared shudders and tries to look away. "Who? Fiona, I don't know what you're talking about. You pushed me... it hurts." He whimpered, tears welling in his eyes.

I leaned in close. "You weren't afraid I'd get nightmares from a body."

"You were afraid I'd catch her."

"Do you know what your face looked like when I turned around? Relief. You were relieved she got away, relieved I didn't catch her. Do you think I'm blind?"

My voice was quiet, but every word cut like a razor.

Jared looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "Relief? Fiona, I'm relieved my wife isn't losing her mind! I'm relieved our home isn't ruined by some freak accident!" He scrambled up, pulling himself up by the wall, pointing at the messy bedroom.

"Look at what you just did! Barging in, screaming, tearing the place apart! You don't trust me?"

"Is this what our marriage is to you?"

His voice was high-pitched, dripping with defensive indignation.

If it weren't for the tracker sitting in my desk drawer, I might have actually believed I was the crazy one.

I stood up, pulled out my phone, and brought up the photo of the tracker, holding it right in front of his face.

"And what about this, Jared? Explain this to me."

The glow of the screen hit his face, and his features instantly drained of color. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

I expected a confession, but instead, he burst into tears. Thick, heavy tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I... I was worried about you!" he cried, his voice cracking. "You've been working late every single night, coming home and barely saying a word. I call you, and you don't answer. I was terrified something would happen to you. What was I supposed to do?"

"I just wanted to know you were safe! Is it a crime to love you, Fiona? Is loving my wife a mistake?"

He wept, turning himself into the victim so flawlessly it made my stomach turn.

I grabbed his wrist. It was freezing. "So, because you were worried about me, a woman had to dangle from our seventeenth-floor window?"

"Stop it!" he screamed, ripping his hand away. "You just want to believe I did something wrong! You want to ruin us!"

He stumbled back and grabbed his phone from the coffee table.

"Fine! You want to play this game? I'll call my parents. I'll let them hear exactly how their perfect daughter-in-law is tearing their son apart over nothing!"

He unlocked the phone, his thumb hovering over his contacts.

My head throbed. I knew hed do it. If his parents showed up, theyd only see a trembling, weeping son and a frantic, erratic wife. No one would believe me. I would be the villain who broke a good man's heart.

The fight drained out of me all at once.

"Don't call them." My voice was dry, hollow.

Jared stared at me, tears streaming, his finger poised over his father's name.

I closed my eyes, then opened them. "I'm sorry."

The words were like ash in my mouth. "I've been under too much pressure at work. I lost control. I'm sorry."

Jared's sobbing slowed. He studied me for a few agonizing seconds, making sure I'm not mocking him, before slowly lowering the phone.

He stepped closer and took my hand.

"I know you're tired, sweetie. I don't blame you." His hand was still cold, but his voice was a soothing, gentle purr. "Just don't scare me like that again, okay?"

I looked at his tear-stained face and nodded. "Okay."

He smileda soft, triumphant smile of pure relief.

And I felt a deep, icy chill settle in my bones.

The next morning, Jared was still asleep, resting peacefully with a faint, content smile on his lips. Yesterday felt like a fever dream.

I made breakfast as usual, ate alone, and walked out the door.

But the moment the front door clicked shut, I slipped into the stairwell and called my coworker Megan to take a personal day.

I waited until I heard the hum of the elevator going down, then quiet as a ghost, I unlocked our front door and stepped back inside.

While he was still asleep, I quickly and discreetly installed tiny cameras in a few blind spots around the apartment.

For the next few days, I spent my working hours sitting in the coffee shop downstairs, my eyes glued to the live feed on my phone.

On screen, he didn't do his usual workouts or watch TV. By midday, hed be curled up on the sofa, texting furiously.

His fingers flew across the screen, his mouth curled into the goofy, lovestruck grin of a teenager in the honeymoon phase.

Watching it, I felt like the air was being squeezed out of my lungs.

At exactly six in the evening, I walked through the door.

"Welcome home, babe," he said, jogging over to take my bag, wrapping his arms around me.

After dinner, he went to take a shower.

Listening to the rushing water, I walked over to the sofa and picked up his phone.

I used his passcode and opened his messages.

The chat list was pristine. Aside from work channels and group chats with his buddies, the active conversation from this afternoon had been scrubbed clean.

I stared at the blank screen, my blood running cold.

Without a word, I slid the phone back into place.

Two days later, in the dead of night, the silence finally drove me mad.

I lay in bed, eyes closed, pretending to sleep, but my mind was spinning.

At 1:30 AM, the mattress shifted.

Jared pulled the comforter back and slipped out of bed barefoot.

He padded out of the room and into the master bathroom, closing the door behind him. Soon, the faucet was running.

The rush of water was loud enough to drown out a whisper.

But the tiny microphone I had hidden beneath the vanity caught every single syllable, feeding it directly into the earbud in my left ear.

"Hey sweetheart, I miss you too..."

His voice was pitched low, thick with a sweet, cloying affection I hadn't heard in years.

"I know, but she's like clockwork. Home every day, sitting there like a lump of wood. It's exhausting just looking at her."

The voice on the other end mumbled something, and he let out a soft chuckle.

"Alright, let's wait until the weekend. I'll tell her I'm going out with the guys, and then I'm all yours..."

In the dark, I stuffed the corner of the comforter into my mouth to muffle my sobs. Tears soaked into the pillow.

Every word felt like a physical blow to my chest.

So that's what I was to him. A boring piece of wood he had to tolerate.

The weekend arrived. The city was alive with couples holding hands, enjoying the spring air.

Jared spent the morning preening in front of the mirror. He wore a brand-new designer shirt I've never seen before and groomed his hair to perfection.

As he headed for the door, he grabbed a sleek, brand-new leather bag.

"Babe," he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to my cheek, "I'm heading out with the guys. Might be a bit late tonight."

I looked at his handsome, sculpted face, feeling nothing but a wave of nausea.

"Sure," I forced a smile. "Have fun."

His eyes crinkled with delight. "Thanks, babe!"

The moment he stepped out of the building, I pulled my baseball cap low and followed him down.

I slipped into my car, parked across the street.

He didn't head for the subway. Instead, he lingered on the curb, checking his phone.

Within minutes, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up beside him.

The door swung open, and he slid into the passenger seat.

Before the car even pulls away, the woman in the driver's seat leaned over, cupping his face, and kissed him deeply.

I turned the key in the ignition and followed them.

The Mercedes bypassed the city center, heading straight for the scenic, upscale suburbs of the north valley.

My hands were steady on the steering wheel.

Eventually, the car pulled into the grand driveway of the Whispering Pines Resort & Spa.

Jared got out, and the woman followed, looping her arm through his. They laughed, sharing some private joke as they strolled into the gilded lobby.

I killed the engine, pulled the key, and sat in the quiet of my car.

The afternoon sun was blindingly bright.

I pulled down the sun visor and retrieved my phone.

First, I called my father.

"Dad, it's me."

"Fiona! Sweetheart, why are you calling at this hour? Aren't you working?"

"I took a few days off. I wanted to surprise Jared with a little getaway. We're actually up at the Whispering Pines Resortit's beautiful here. I booked a private dining room for dinner. Why don't you and Mom drive up and join us? Let's have a family dinner."

My dad sounded thrilled. "Oh, that sounds wonderful, sweetie. Your mother and I will get ready right away."

"Perfect. I'll text you the reservation details."

As soon as I hung up, I dialed my mother-in-law's number.

It rings a few times before she picked up.

"Hello? Fiona?" Her voice was sharp, energetic.

"Hi, Helen. Are you and Arthur home?"

"Yes, we're just watching some TV. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's great. Jared and I are out celebrating, and I booked a gorgeous private room at a restaurant up in the valley. I realized we haven't all sat down for a nice meal in ages. I'd love it if you and Arthur could join us."

"Oh? Jared is with you? That boy didn't say a word about a trip."

"I wanted it to be a surprise. Can you make it? It's not farthe Whispering Pines Resort."

"Of course we can make it. We'll get ready and head out now."

"Great. The room is called the Summit Suite. Just ask the host when you arrive."

"We'll see you soon, dear."

I slid my phone back into my pocket, pushed the car door open, and stepped out into the warm breeze.

Entering the lobby, the receptionist greeted me with a polished, professional smile.

"Welcome, how can I help you today?"

"I have a reservation for the Summit Suite. Fiona Albright."

She tapped on her screen. "Ah, yes, Mrs. Albright. The room is ready for you in our second-floor dining hall."

"Thank you."

I walked toward the elevators.

I remembered exactly where the Mercedes parked, and I knew exactly which direction they went.

I stood in the quiet, carpeted hallway of the resort, waiting for my family. Waiting for his parents.

My parents arrived first.

"Fiona, have you been waiting long?" My mom hugged me, pulling back to look at my face. "You look a little thin, sweetie. Are you sleeping?"

"Just busy with the quarterly budget, Mom," I smiled. "Dad, let's head up to the room first."

A few minutes later, Arthur and Helen arrived.

Arthur spotted me immediately. "Fiona! Where's Jared? I thought you were surprising him."

"He's upstairs freshening up. You know how he ishas to make sure every hair is in place before he dines."

Helen chuckled. "Naturally. It's so sweet of you to plan this, Fiona."

I took Arthur's arm. "We're family. It's the least I can do. Let's go have some tea in the suite, and then I'll go grab him."

The Summit Suite was beautiful, featuring massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a serene pine forest.

I poured tea for the four of them.

Arthur took a sip, then asked, "Which room are you guys staying in? I'll go nudge him. I'd love to see the suites here anyway."

I set the teapot down, smiling warmly.

"Actually, Dad, I was thinking we could all go up together and surprise him. He'll be absolutely thrilled to see you both."

I stood up. "Come on, let's go."

They all rose, smiling.

The five of us walked out of the private dining room and stepped back into the elevator.

On the ride up, Arthur was still singing my praises.

"Fiona is one in a million. Jared is a lucky man to have a wife who cares this much about family."

My parents beamed with pride.

The elevator chimes, opening on the sixth floor.

The corridor was long, lined with plush, sound-dampening carpets that swallowed the sound of our footsteps.

Helen whispered, "Which room is it?"

"Just down here," I said, pointing toward the end of the hall.

We stopped outside Room 608.

I turned around, putting a finger to my lips with a playful grin. "Shh. Big surprise."

They all quieted down, their faces bright with anticipation.

I raised my hand and knocked three times.

Firm, but polite.

Nothing.

I knocked again, harder this time.

A few seconds passed, and then my husband's voice drifted through the door.

"Who is it?"

Behind me, the smiles on four faces began to stiffen.

The door swung open to reveal the woman from the Mercedes, a plush hotel bathrobe draped loosely over her shoulders.