When I woke up this morning, my husband wasn’t there. I sat up quickly, nearly fell over standing up—head rush. The clock said it was well past time for the alarm. Had I even heard him getting out of bed?

There were wet towels on the floor. And when the blood stopped pounding in my ears, I could hear him clacking at the computer. I hung up the towels and went downstairs to kiss him good morning.

“I didn’t even hear you get up,” I said.

“Really? You’re the one who told me to get out; I was snoring.”