A week ago, I nearly divorced the love of my life. It all started with an air vent cover in our bathroom, and the strange items my husband had hidden behind it.

Roger was out of town helping his mom recover from surgery.

I was just having a relaxing Saturday afternoon, lounging on the couch in my comfy pants. I was scrolling through my phone and thinking about ordering takeout when I heard this weird clatter from the bathroom.

When I went to check it out, I discovered the air vent cover had fallen right off the wall. Typical, right? The one weekend my handy husband is away, something breaks.

I figured I could handle a simple repair job myself. I mean, how hard could it be to screw a vent cover back on? So I texted Roger to ask which tools I'd need.

What happened next still gives me chills when I think about it.

His response came back almost instantly: "NO! Don't you dare touch that vent or look inside it. Never."

I stared at my phone, reading the message over and over, my heart starting to race.

Let me tell you something about my husband: in our ten years of marriage, Roger had never spoken to me like that. Not once.

He was always gentle, always patient, even when I accidentally shrunk his favorite sweater in the dryer or backed into his car in the driveway. This forceful tone set off all kinds of alarm bells in my head.

What could possibly be in that vent that would make him react this way?

"Roger, what's going on?" I texted back, my hands shaking slightly.

I kept thinking about all those true crime podcasts I listen to while cleaning the house. You know them.

Those little dots that show when someone is typing popped up. I watched them for what seemed like the longest time, but when he replied, the message was unexpectedly short.

"Just leave it alone until I get home, okay? Please?"

What would you have done? Because I did not know what to make of this situation. I paced around the house, trying to distract myself with TV shows and books, but my eyes kept drifting toward the bathroom door.

That vent was like a black hole, pulling at my attention until I couldn't think about anything else.

After an hour of internal debate (and maybe a glass of wine for courage), I couldn't take it anymore.