Married to my suspect

I washed my plate and dried it, placing it on the shelf. Thinking about it, back before I'd gotten married, I had preferred to drop the plate in the dishwasher and since it was just me, the plates would remain there until the load was enough to run. Although, in my defense, I always cleaned the plates with water before placing it there, yet, to Jonathan, that may have been synonymous to living in a pigsty. The man was as neat as what I couldn't describe and annoyingly, he was beginning to rub off me.

I dried my hands and started my survey with the kitchen. Since as a diligent secretary, I preferred to leave work either with my boss or close to when he left because I always had something to do while he was in, I always ended up exhausted and went straight to bed after dinner, and so I was going to enjoy this my rare chance of leaving work on time. I opened the pantry and my jaws dropped. For the breakfast we'd been eating together, Jonathan had unofficially become the cook after I'd admitted my lack of skills and I loved it that way, but because of that, I hadn't really had any business with the pantry. There was more than enough to eat that my mind hadn't gone to any snack.

I closed it and opened it again, looking through what my eyes could see. There were shelves that went all the way to the back and wasn't visible from the front. I wouldn't be surprised if there were expired goods here. How was one person supposed to consume all these before their expiry dates? There were pre-packaged products, a lot of cereals and snacks, as well as a lot of chocolates?? The chocolates were a surprise though. I never would have taken that cold, unfeeling man as someone that would love chocolate. No wonder, he needed a housekeeper. How could one person manage it alone? The poor woman.

I closed the pantry and looked round the kitchen. Since I wasn't a stranger to the refrigerator, I left it alone and started to move to the next room when a knob caught my attention. Since the kitchen wall was brown, it had been easy to camouflage the door I could now see. I moved closer to the door, taking in the brown color, brown ridges and even brown doorknob, all in the same shade as the wall so without looking closely, it was almost like it wasn't there. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Maybe it was for Mirabelle, since she had so many things to do in the house. I shrugged, that was the most probable response, and I couldn't wait to see the other rooms.

I left the kitchen and closed the door and started up the stairs. The downstairs only consisted of the living room, the kitchen and a dining room that separated the kitchen and living room and if I was being honest, my main interest was upstairs. His room, to be exact.

The way the house was structured, my room was directly after the stairs, which meant I didn't have to walk long to rest, but it also meant I'd had no reason to be anywhere after the room. Ignoring my room, I walked to the next room and opened the door.

"Excuse me." I whispered, feeling a little, just a little, guilty for entering the room without permission. I entered the room and turned on the light, looking around what looked like a guest room. It looked like mine, except it was much smaller and painted gray, a lot different from the black in my room. The room looked bare as there was no shelf or nothing on the nightstand. I opened the wardrobe and closed it. As expected, it was empty. It was obviously a guest room, but I doubted anyone had ever used it. It looked so clean and tidy.

I closed the door and moved to my original goal, my heart pounding in my chest. With another whisper of apology, I opened Jonathan's room door and turned on the light. I looked at the room and shook my head. It was the exact opposite of what I'd imagined. The three rooms I'd seen so far, mine, the guest room and his were all the same layout but from what I could see, mine was the biggest. Was I using the master bedroom?

I removed my slippers and entered the room, taking in my husband's cologne. The walls were painted blue, which gave the room a vibrant feel as opposed to mine. I still hated the fact that my room was black.

I walked slowly towards his well-made bed and studied his nightstand. I picked up a book that had been marked with a bookmark, it was a book titled "How to get more effective results from your team." As expected, the man lived and breathed his business. I brushed through the books on his shelf, they were all about building and growing a business. I let my hands drop and looked towards his wardrobe, knowing I had absolutely no reason to go near the place. I had invaded his privacy enough as it was.

I turned away from the wardrobe and started towards the door. The room looked like a room that had been designed for a warm and gentle person, not the man I had married. Sure, I was biased, but I was sure everyone that knew him would agree with me.

I closed the door and went back downstairs, feeling defeated. Was he hiding something? My instinct was screaming at me, and the house felt too strange for me. I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Should I just give up? No, I couldn't. I had sold myself to this marriage for a year, lied to my mom and was currently being bullied at my job all to find something more about the death of my father. I was fast realizing that I might have been way over my head with my imagination, but I couldn't back down now.

I reduced the volume of the sports channel I hadn't been watching and went back upstairs. Even if I found nothing, I needed a hint. Something small or big, I didn't mind right now.

I opened his room door again and went to the cupboard near his wardrobe, praying I wouldn't find underwear or anything personal there, we weren't close enough for that. Of course, my prayer wasn't answered. I scrunched my nose and removed the boxers in the cupboard. The best place for hiding something was the cupboard. I only hoped the situation right now would never ever be reversed.

I placed the things I'd removed from the cupboard back, using the picture I'd taken of them as reference and making sure to leave it the same way I'd met it and opened his wardrobe. I rolled my eyes at the row of black suits that lined the wardrobe. To be honest, I'd wondered if he had been repeating outfits or just had so many of the same color, and the latter had been correct. I looked through the wardrobe and finding nothing, closed it back, then thought of another option. My eyes went to his bed and I started towards it, the best place to keep something personal was on the bed frame. Especially when there was no threat of your room being breached. Wasn't I a genius?

I sighed and went to the reading table. The best place to hide something was in your reading corner, where you could easily remove it and hide it back when you have a sudden visitor. Ten minutes later, I sat down and placed my head on his desk. I'd found absolutely nothing.

My phone started beeping, and I removed it from the pocket of my robe and gasped, my hands covering my mouth and looking around. Was I being watched?

"You called." Jonathan said when I picked the phone.

I did? My mind was scattered, and I couldn't pick up on a single thought. I started biting my fingernails, trying to remember why.

"Hello." He repeated, and I removed my fingers from my mouth.

Oh, Michelle. I remembered now. "Oh that. I was a little startled when I saw Michelle, so I wanted to confirm from you."

He sighed. "Yes. She's my housekeeper. She wasn't supposed to still be there."

I nodded as if he could see me. "Yeah. She forgot her phone and had to come back to get it."

"Alright then. I have another meeting I need to get to. I may be home later than tomorrow, depending on how things go."

"Alright. Thanks for calling."

A pause, then. "No problem. If you face any other problem, don't hesitate to call me."

"Alright." I dropped the call and put my shaking hands on my chest. That had been close. Why hadn't I even considered the fact that he could have had cameras in the house?

I looked up and around the room and, seeing no sign of a camera, finally started to relax. He had even sounded tired and had said he was going to have another meeting, so there wasn't any reason to be anxious. I consoled myself.

I had taken enough chances, I resolved as I started towards the door, and apparently, my body agreed with me as my fingers lost grip of my phone and it fell to the ground.

"Shit." I muttered, picking up the phone and checking it. Thankfully, it didn't break.

I blew air on the screen and started towards the door when something caught my eye. Much like in the kitchen, but there was a weird blend around the wardrobe as I studied it. I'd said it myself, and my mother had warned me. My nosiness was going to one day put me in trouble. I went closer to the wardrobe and tried both pushing and pulling, but the wall remained rooted. Maybe I had imagined wrong. Why would there be an opening like that in the room? It made no sense yet I couldn't leave.

I tried pushing the door backwards and, as expected, nothing moved. At this point, I was already getting tired. I pulled again and finally, something moved. I hissed when I realized it had been my sweaty palm that had given me that hope. I picked up the phone I had placed on the floor when I heard another sound, this time from the door. I whirled back, and my eyes widened as the wall slid a little with an unlocking sound. I used the last of my strength to slide the door open, and I scrunched my nose as my eyes tried to adjust to the lighting. I turned on my phone's torch, and both my hands and my legs went weak as my eyes recognized what I was looking at. I fell to the ground and stared simply at my phone, whose torch was pointing upwards now.