I came home from a six-week tour craving one ordinary thing from my own fridge. What I found instead told me everything about who had been living in my house.

He thought a locked bathroom door kept his secrets safe. He forgot the one device on the counter that mirrored every word he typed.

He logged a long, lonely trail run on the app I bought him. I tapped one feature I had never used before, and the map answered a question I had not dared to ask.

My husband mocked every romantic comedy ever made. So why was one half-finished on his Netflix profile while I was away for work?

We turned our fitness rings into a silly little competition. I never imagined the data would tell me something he never would.

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.