My husband swore he was buried in spreadsheets all day. Then I opened the lighting app on my phone and saw what color our bedroom had been at two in the afternoon.

My husband saved every password we ever made into one tidy shared vault. I just wanted the Wi-Fi code. I found something else with a name attached.

My wife told me over a half-eaten sandwich, the way you'd mention rain on the way. Then she explained what the dinner parties had really been for.

I drove across town to surprise my husband with the lunch he forgot. His office was empty. His watch was still warm on the desk, pretending he'd never left.

Marcus was forty minutes across the city at his desk. So why did my phone say our oven was warming up at two in the afternoon?

I ordered a car to work like I do every weekday. The app opened, the profile picture loaded, and my whole marriage rearranged itself in three seconds.