Hi there, I’m Daisy. I’m 32, a housewife, and until recently, I thought my life was picture-perfect. That was until my husband, Roger, started having a strange nighttime habit that got me worried…
A couple embracing each other | Source: Unsplash
Roger and I were high school sweethearts, married for five years now. Those were the golden years of my life. But then, Roger started doing this weird thing that had me wondering if he was losing his marbles.
It all began when I noticed him sleeping with his car keys. First on the nightstand. And then, right next to his pillow. Every. Single. Night.
At first, I didn’t think much of it.
A car key on the bed | Source: Midjourney
Roger grew up poor. His dad was a carpenter and he lost his mom when he was little.
He worked his butt off for that car, so I figured maybe it was just his way of cherishing it. Something probably sentimental, you know?
But then it got… intense.
Close-up of men shaking hands at a new car sale | Source: Pexels
“Honey, you forgot to kiss me goodnight,” I said one night, watching him fuss with the keys.
Roger looked up, startled. “Oh, sorry, Daisy.” He pecked my cheek quickly, then went right back to positioning those darn keys beside his pillow.
I sighed, turning over in bed. “G’night, I guess.”
“Night, sweetheart,” he mumbled, still focused on the keys.
A young woman sitting on the bed and rubbing her eyes | Source: Freepik
As the days went by, Roger’s habit started to feel like an addiction. One night, I woke up to find him fumbling around in the dark.
“What are you doing?” I mumbled, half-asleep.
“Just checking,” he whispered back.
“Checking what?”
“The keys. Making sure they’re still here.”
I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. “Roger, for heaven’s sake, they’re not going anywhere!”
A man holding a car key | Source: Freepik
He chuckled nervously. “You never know, Daisy. You never know.”
I sat up, fully awake now. “Okay, what’s going on? Why are you so obsessed with these keys?”
Roger sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s… it’s nothing. Just a habit, I guess.”
“A habit that’s more important than kissing your wife goodnight?” I couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice.
A distressed woman with a man in the bedroom | Source: Pexels
His face fell. “Aw, Daisy, no. It’s not like that. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”
I softened a bit. “Then talk to me, Rog. What’s this all about?”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “It’s silly. Let’s just go back to sleep, okay?”
I wanted to push, but something in his eyes made me hold back. “Okay. But this conversation isn’t over.”
An upset woman sitting on the bed with a man | Source: Pexels
The next few days, I kept a close eye on Roger. He seemed normal during the day, but come bedtime, out came those keys.
I started coming up with all sorts of theories. Maybe he thought it was useful in case of an emergency? I was pregnant, after all. Extra safety measure, perhaps?
But nothing could’ve prepared me for what happened next.
A young woman sitting on the bed | Source: Pexels
It was a quiet night when I heard it. A rattling noise from downstairs, like someone had knocked over a pan. My heart started racing. Then, a cough. A real, honest-to-god cough.
I sat up, my whole body trembling. “Roger,” I whispered, shaking him awake. “I think there’s someone in the house.”
Roger bolted upright, his eyes wide. He listened for a moment, then reached for… you guessed it… his car keys.
Grayscale close-up portrait of a shocked woman | Source: Pexels
“What are you doing?” I hissed. “Call the police!”
But Roger just pressed the panic button on his key fob. Suddenly, our car alarm started blaring outside, shattering the silence of the night.
I gaped at him. “Have you lost your mind?”
Before Roger could answer, we heard a commotion outside. I rushed to the window and saw a group of young men scrambling out of our front yard.
Silhouette of men running outside a building | Source: Midjourney
“Oh my god,” I gasped, remembering something. “I forgot to lock the back door after taking out the trash.”
Roger came up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “It’s okay, Daisy. They’re gone now.”
As if on cue, lights started flicking on in the neighboring houses. People came out, looking around in confusion.
Roger sighed. “Better go explain before they call the cops on us.”
Night view of houses in a neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
We hurried outside, where our neighbor, Mrs. Clooney, was already marching over in her fluffy robe.
“What in tarnation is going on?” she demanded, her curlers bobbing indignantly.
Roger held up his hands. “Sorry, folks. False alarm. Everything’s fine now.”
“False alarm?” Mr. Peterson from across the street joined in. “It’s 2 a.m., Roger!”
“I know, I know,” Roger said, looking sheepish. “There was a… uh… a situation. But it’s handled now. Sorry for the disturbance.”
An angry senior man crossing his arms | Source: Pexels
As we headed back inside, I turned to Roger. “Alright, spill. What was that all about?”
He grinned, looking a bit sheepish. “It’s a life hack, Daisy. One that just saved our bacon.”
We sat at the kitchen table, my hands wrapped around a mug of chamomile tea to stop them from shaking.
“A lifehack?” I repeated. “You mean to tell me you’ve been sleeping with car keys as a… as a security measure?”
Grayscale portrait of a stunned woman turning to her side | Source: Pexels
Roger nodded, his expression serious. “My dad taught me this trick when I was a kid. Said it could be a lifesaver.”
I shook my head, still trying to process it all. “But why didn’t you tell me?”
He reached across the table, taking my hand. “I didn’t want to worry you. Especially now, with the baby coming.”
A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
I squeezed his hand back, feeling a pang of emotions. “Roger, we’re partners. You don’t have to protect me from everything.”
He smiled softly. “I know. I’m sorry. No more secrets, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, then curiosity got the better of me. “So, tell me more about this lifehack of yours.”
Roger’s eyes lit up, reminding me of the boy I fell in love with in high school. “Well, it all started when I was about ten…”
A man sitting on the couch with his hands clasped tight | Source: Pexels
Roger leaned back in his chair, his eyes distant with memory.
“We lived in a pretty rough neighborhood back then,” he began. “One night, some guys tried to break in. Dad heard them and used this trick. Scared them off real quick.”
I listened, fascinated. “So that’s why you’ve been so adamant about it?”
Silhouette of a man’s shadow and another man running upstairs | Source: Pexels
He nodded. “Yeah. I guess I never really got over that night. And now, with you and the baby…” He trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed.
I reached out, touching his cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it now. But next time, just talk to me, alright?”
Roger smiled, covering my hand with his. “Deal. Now, want to hear how it works?”
I nodded eagerly.
