I am barely over five feet tall. So the morning I climbed into my husband's car and nearly fell to the floor, I knew the seat had been set for someone else.

We were laughing at memes on her phone when his text slid down from the top of the screen: "Can't wait to see you again ❤️." She lunged for it half a second too late.

She thought the only thing breaking the quiet of her backyard that evening would be the podcast she had pressed play on. Then his car pulled in.

I found his old Fitbit in a drawer. It synced to my phone and showed the truth: he was never working night shifts.

I just wanted to soothe our anxious rescue from my desk. The smart speaker in our living room handed me a sound I will never unhear.

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.