The next day, I confronted Evan. I confessed to installing the camera, my voice shaky with both apology and unburdened guilt. I told him how my worries had spiraled, how I had let fear cloud my judgment. He listened, his expression a mix of surprise and understanding.
“Emma’s been sleepwalking,” he revealed softly, his eyes filled with concern. “It started a few weeks ago. I didn’t want to worry you, so I didn’t mention it. I thought it was just a phase.”
His words were a balm, soothing the raw edges of my anxiety. Emma’s night terrors and wanderings were a new development, something we had to approach together, with open communication and shared responsibility. I felt gratitude for Evan’s quiet diligence, his willingness to wake every night to ensure our daughter was safe.
