I Couldn’t Get Why My Husband Spends So Much Time in the Bathroom Until I Saw a Video in His Phone

When I knocked on the bathroom door and heard my husband’s strained voice, I knew something wasn’t right. But nothing could have prepared me for the real reason he’d been hiding behind that locked door for months.

I’ve always considered myself lucky. Liam and I have been married for 25 years, and for the most part, life has been… comfortable. We had our ups and downs, like any couple, but we were solid.

A loving couple having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

A loving couple having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

At least, that’s what I used to think. Lately, things have felt different. Not the obvious kind of different: no big fights or dramatic shifts, but small changes, the kind that make you second-guess your own instincts.

The strangest of all? Liam’s sudden obsession with the bathroom.

Liam’s never been the type to spend much time in there. If anything, I’ve always teased him for how quickly he could be in and out, joking that he was some kind of efficiency expert. But about six months ago, he started taking his time. Really taking his time.

A man looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror | Source: Midjourney

It wasn’t just a few extra minutes; he’d disappear for hours. At first, I shrugged it off. “Maybe he’s just getting older,” I told myself. Everyone deserves a bit of alone time. I didn’t want to be one of those wives, nagging over every little thing.

But then the noises started.

One night, as I was folding laundry on the bed, I heard a dull thud. I paused, listening carefully. There it was again: this time, a low grunt, followed by what sounded like heavy breathing.

A stunned woman standing in her room | Source: Midjourney

A stunned woman standing in her room | Source: Midjourney

I stood up, hesitating in the hallway before knocking softly. “Liam?” I called through the door, trying to keep my tone casual. “Everything alright in there?”

There was a pause. “Yeah, just… taking my time,” he replied, his voice slightly strained.

I frowned but didn’t push further. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well? But days turned into weeks, and his bathroom sessions grew longer. He’d spend more time behind that locked door, and with each passing day, I found myself growing more and more uneasy.

A woman looks curious and concerned while sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks curious and concerned while sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney

It wasn’t just the time that bothered me; it was the secrecy. He had started locking the door every time, something he never used to do. When I casually asked him about it one morning over coffee, he shrugged it off with a nonchalant, “Can’t a guy have some privacy?”

I tried not to let it get to me, but curiosity gnawed at me, especially with the strange sounds. “Privacy for what exactly?” I muttered under my breath one night. That’s when I started to worry something more was going on.

A man standing in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney

One evening, after yet another long, locked bathroom session, I couldn’t help myself anymore. “Liam, why are you always in there for so long?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He looked at me, irritated. “Why do you always have to ask about it? I just… I can’t do it faster, okay?”

“Do what faster?” I asked, baffled.

“Just leave it alone, Naomi,” he snapped, storming back into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

A man sitting in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

I tried to let it go, but every night, as I lay in bed listening to those strange noises coming from the bathroom, I felt my imagination running wild. Was he hiding something? Was he in trouble?

The thought of him keeping secrets from me, after all these years, made my stomach churn. I considered every possibility, even the worst ones: was he seeing someone else?

Then, everything changed one afternoon. Liam had locked himself in the bathroom again, and I was in the kitchen when his phone buzzed on the counter.

A smartphone lying on a counter | Source: Midjourney

A smartphone lying on a counter | Source: Midjourney

I glanced at it absentmindedly, expecting some work message or a news alert. But no: it was his mom, Meredith, calling.

“Liam, your mom’s calling!” I called out, tapping on the countertop impatiently.

There was a grunt from the bathroom. “Can you get it? I’m busy!” His voice was muffled, strained.

I hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone. “Hello, Meredith,” I said, trying to keep the conversation short. After a quick exchange about her upcoming doctor’s appointment, we hung up.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

But just as I went to lock the phone, something caught my eye — an open video on the screen. The thumbnail showed it was recorded just an hour ago.

My heart raced. Before I could stop myself, I clicked play. And as the video started, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

There was Liam in the bathroom, wearing workout clothes, of all things… exercising? He was in the middle of doing push-ups, sweat dripping down his face, groaning with each rep.

A man exercising in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A man exercising in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

Then he switched to sit-ups, breathing heavily, pushing himself like I’d never seen him do before.

My first reaction was relief. So that’s what had been going on in there? My imagination had gone to the darkest places, and here he was… doing some awkward yoga poses. I actually chuckled, a combination of amusement and disbelief bubbling up.

I marched down the hall, heart still racing, and knocked on the bathroom door, harder this time. “Liam! Open the door. We need to talk.”

A woman looking at the closed bathroom door in her room | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at the closed bathroom door in her room | Source: Midjourney

There was silence on the other side, and I could almost feel his hesitation through the thick wood. “I’m, uh, kinda busy right now,” he finally muttered, his voice breathless.

I wasn’t having it. “Liam. Open. The. Door.”

I heard him shuffle around, and after a beat, the lock clicked. The door creaked open slowly, revealing my husband, flushed, sweaty, and holding a bright green resistance band in one hand. He stared at me, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

A closeup of a green-colored resistance band lying on the floor | Source: Midjourney

A closeup of a green-colored resistance band lying on the floor | Source: Midjourney

“You saw the video, didn’t you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. His shoulders slumped as he looked down at the floor.

I crossed my arms, trying to keep my voice calm. “Yeah, I saw it. What on earth is going on?”

Liam sighed deeply, running a hand through his damp hair. “I… I’ve put on weight,” he admitted, his voice heavy with embarrassment. “Nine kilos in the last few months, and I—I felt so ashamed. I thought you might… you know, notice.”

A man looks embarrassed while sitting in his room | Source: Midjourney

A man looks embarrassed while sitting in his room | Source: Midjourney

“Notice what? That you gained a bit of weight? Liam, everyone puts on weight now and then. What does that have to do with locking yourself in the bathroom for hours?” I asked, genuinely confused but feeling a bit of my frustration melt away.

He groaned, rubbing his forehead like a child caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he mumbled. “So I started working out… in secret. I hired this online coach and started doing these bathroom workouts so you wouldn’t… notice how out of shape I’d gotten.”

A man using his phone in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A man using his phone in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, processing his words. “Wait. All this time, you were in here… working out? Not hiding something from me? Not cheating or… God knows what else I thought?” I could feel a mixture of exasperation and relief washing over me.

He nodded, still not meeting my eyes. “I didn’t want you to hear me struggling. It’s embarrassing, okay? I’d be grunting and breathing heavily, and I figured if you knew, you’d worry… or worse, think less of me.”

A man breathing heavily and sweating during a bathroom workout session | Source: Midjourney

A man breathing heavily and sweating during a bathroom workout session | Source: Midjourney

I stared at him, then burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. The sheer absurdity of it all: the hours spent worrying, the secretive looks, the locked doors; all because he was too shy to admit he was working out.

“Liam, you absolute idiot!” I laughed, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. “You could’ve just told me. You know I’d support you no matter what!”

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

Liam looked up at me, a sheepish smile starting to break through his embarrassment. “I didn’t want to worry you. I know how much you’ve been dealing with lately: work, my mom’s health, everything. I didn’t want to add to that.”

I shook my head, the last bit of tension fading as I took a step toward him. “Worry me? Liam, you DID worry me. You were acting so strange. My imagination was running wild! I thought you were keeping something serious from me…”

An extremely worried woman | Source: Midjourney

An extremely worried woman | Source: Midjourney

He winced, clearly feeling guilty. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just — I’ve been feeling bad about myself. And I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

I softened, reaching out to touch his arm. “Liam, we’ve been married 25 years. You don’t have to hide anything from me, especially not this.” I paused, trying to read his face.

“You’re still the same man I married, whether you’ve put on a few kilos or not. Besides, it’s not like I’ve stayed the same size either,” I added with a smirk, patting my belly for emphasis.

A woman smirks while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman smirks while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

Liam finally cracked a real smile. “I guess I’ve been a bit ridiculous, huh?”

“Just a little,” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “Next time, instead of locking yourself away, how about we go on a run together? Or, I don’t know, maybe let me in on your secret workout routine?”

He chuckled, the tension fully broken now. “You and me? Doing yoga together?” he joked, his eyes twinkling for the first time in weeks.

A man chuckles while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A man chuckles while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

“Why not? I could use a little stretching,” I said with a grin, then sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster of the last few weeks. “But seriously, Liam, no more secrets. Please. You can tell me anything, even if it’s about something like this.”

Liam nodded, looking down at his feet before glancing back up at me. “I will. I promise.”

We stood there for a moment, the air between us lighter now, as if a weight had been lifted. I hadn’t realized how much this situation had weighed on me until it was gone.

A loving couple | Source: Midjourney

A loving couple | Source: Midjourney

Finally, I smiled, shaking my head at him again. “All this time, and it was just you doing push-ups in here?”

Liam laughed, tossing the resistance band aside. “Yeah, and pretty badly, too.”

We both laughed, the sound filling the small bathroom. It was ridiculous, yes, but also a reminder. Sometimes, the things we’re most afraid to admit — the things we think will push people away — are the very things that make us closer.

I squeezed his hand and said softly, “Next time, just let me in, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, pulling me into a hug.

A couple hugging | Source: Midjourney

A couple hugging | Source: Midjourney

And in that moment, it was like everything fell back into place.

Ready to dive into another heartwarming story? You’re going to love this one: When Michael returned home early from a business trip, he expected a warm family reunion, not an empty house and eerie silence. His wife was missing, only to be found locked in the cellar, with a shocking story that pointed to a betrayal he never saw coming.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Boy Goes to Visit Twin Brother’s Grave, Doesn’t Return Home Even at 11 p.m. — Story of the Day

It was a parent’s worst nightmare come true when the Wesenbergs lost their little son Ted one Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately, it happened in a place that was supposed to be the safest for the family, where nothing should have gone wrong, yet everything did.

The Wesenbergs found Ted dead in their swimming pool. His body was floating like a pool float, and Paul Wesenberg had dived into the water to save his son, but it was too late—neither his mouth-to-mouth nor the paramedics he’d dialed could bring his son back.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Linda Wesenberg couldn’t bear the sorrow of losing her son, and she sat as pale, numb, and motionless as her late son at his funeral. Then as a week went by without Ted in the Wesenberg household, things turned chaotic, brutal even, and so harsh that little Clark couldn’t stand it…

Linda and Paul were struggling to cope with their loss, and they fought every day, every time. Clark heard loud noises from his parents’ room every night, and his mommy would get frustrated and eventually cry.

His daddy would blame his mommy for Ted’s death, and his mommy would blame everything on his daddy. Clark hid under his blanket every night, clutching his teddy bear and sobbing whenever he heard his parents bickering.

No loss is so profound that love cannot heal it.

When Ted was there with him, things had been so different. Their parents rarely argued back then, and his mommy was never sad and upset. She would kiss him goodnight and hug him before she tucked him in bed, but she no longer did any of that now.

She had also stopped making breakfast and often stayed in bed, telling him she was ill. Paul always made them toast and eggs for breakfast now, and he had started arriving home early to prepare dinner for them, but his cooking was not even close to Linda’s.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Clark missed his brother. He missed Ted so badly that he wished he had gone to the place where his brother was… because their parents no longer cared about their son, who was still alive.

All they cared about was who was to blame for their other son’s death.

One evening, things went from bad to worse. Clark heard his parents arguing again, and he was so frustrated that he couldn’t stand it. “Mommy! Daddy! Please stop!” he yelled as he stormed into their bedroom. “Please stop! I don’t like it when you fight!”

“Look, Paul!” his mother hissed. “I lost Ted because of you, and now Clark hates you!”

“Oh really, Linda?” Paul shot back. “And what about you? I don’t think Clark’s in awe of you!”

Clark’s parents forgot he was in their room and continued to argue. They began blaming each other for Ted’s death again, and Clark decided he didn’t want to stay there any longer. Their home was filled with screams and tears since Ted left, and Clark had started despising his home.

“I hate you both…” he whispered, tears running down his cheeks. “I HATE YOU, MOMMY AND DADDY! I don’t want to live with you! I’m going to meet Ted because only he loved me!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Ted ran away from his parents’ room and out the front door. He paused to collect the dahlias he and Ted grew in their garden before running away to Ted’s grave in the cemetery only blocks away from their home.

“Look, you made him cry again. I’m sure you’re relieved now!” Paul snarled.

“I made him cry? Stop acting like I’m the bad person here!”

Linda and Paul continued to bicker, unconcerned about their little son, who’d run away to the cemetery alone. Clark sobbed as he pressed his fingertips against his brother’s gravestone and ran his fingers over the inscription.

“In the beloved memory of Ted Wesenberg,” read the engraving.

Clark bawled his eyes out at the sight of his brother’s grave. He missed Ted so much!

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

“I… I m—miss you, Ted,” he wept. “Could you please ask the angels to return you?”

“…and mommy and daddy are constantly arguing. Ted, they no longer love me. They hate me, and they don’t care about me. Could you please come back, Ted? Please? Nobody plays football with me, not even daddy…”

Clark had never felt so alone in his life. He placed the dahlias against his brother’s grave and sat down on the prickly grass, telling him about his heart’s concerns and how ignored and forgotten he felt.

Clark couldn’t stop crying as he told Ted how much he missed him, how difficult life was without him, and how much their parents had changed. He complained to him about the burnt breakfasts, how he had stopped growing dahlias, and how lonely he was.

Clark’s heart was so at ease after finally sharing his worries with his brother that he didn’t notice when the hours passed, and the sky darkened. The cemetery became deserted, and there wasn’t a single soul in sight. Yet, Clark decided not to go home because it was the first time since Ted’s death that he felt at peace.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Suddenly, he heard the rustling of dried leaves behind him. Clark looked around in fright. Who could’ve come to the gravesite at this hour? He sprang to his feet in terror as the sound grew louder and louder, still searching about.

Terrified he wasn’t alone, Clark whirled back to run, but he was too late. He saw several men clad in black robes approaching him. Their faces were obscured with hoods, and they held firebrands.

“See who has arrived in our dark kingdom! You shouldn’t have risked coming here, boy!” shouted one of the men.

“Who… who are you?” Clark asked in tears. “Please let me go!”

Clark was shaking in fear and didn’t know how to get himself out of trouble. The men didn’t let him leave.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

Clark was terrified of the dudes in robes, but then he heard a man’s booming voice. “Chad, back off! How many times will I tell you not to gather in my graveyard with your idiotic pals dressed in cult garb?”

Clark noticed the tall, well-dressed man in his 50s, as he approached. “Don’t worry, boy,” he said to Clark. “These boys won’t do anything. They’re worse than kids!”

“Oh, c’mon, Mr. Bowen!” The dude who stood face-to-face with Clark pulled off his hood and sighed. “Where else are our cult’s activities intended to take place if not here in a cemetery?”

“How about you stop burning your lousy report cards here and start studying instead? Back off, or I’ll tell your mother you often smoke here! I’m sure you wouldn’t take that chance. Now, you,” he gestured to Clark. “Come here, kid. Let’s get you home.”

Mr. Bowen seemed like a nice man to Clark. He dashed up to him and grasped his outstretched arm. Mr. Bowen took the boy to a small cabin and served him hot chocolate.

“What were you doing here at this hour?” the older man asked Clark.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

Mr. Bowen appeared to be a kind man, so Clark opened up to him about his parents and brother, how their lives had turned into a living hell since Ted died, and how he didn’t like his parents and didn’t want to go home.

***

Back home, Linda was panicking. She dialed Paul several times, but he wasn’t answering. It’d been over two hours since Paul left home after their quarrel.

She had been sitting at the kitchen table, venting to her friend on the phone all this while. As soon as she hung up and looked around, it hit her: Clark wasn’t around. Where’s Clark?

Linda’s heart was racing as she looked at the clock. It was past 11 p.m. when she checked Clark’s room and found him missing. Linda then went into the other rooms, the bathrooms, and the backyard, but Clark was nowhere to be found. To her, it was as if he’d vanished into thin air.

She called Paul again, no answer. “Pick your darn phone, Paul!” she cried. “Oh gosh! What do I do now?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Linda paced nervously in her living room. She had no idea where to look for Clark until… she remembered him coming into the bedroom when she and Paul were arguing.

“The cemetery!” she recalled. “He was going to meet Ted!”

Linda grabbed the house keys, locked the door, and hurried to the cemetery. As she turned to the first street, she saw Paul’s car. He pulled over and rolled down his window.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Clark isn’t home yet!” she said, getting inside the car. “Drive to the cemetery now!”

“What the hell?” Paul cried, starting the engine. “But when… did he never come back?”

“No, Paul! We were, well…” she paused. “We were so busy arguing that we didn’t notice!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Paul and Linda hurried to Ted’s grave as soon as they got to the cemetery. But there was no sign of Clark.

“Clark!” Linda shouted. “Honey, where are you?”

Right then, Paul nudged Linda. “Linda!” he cried. “What the hell is going on there!? Look!”

Paul and Linda were taken aback when they noticed a fire in the distance and heard voices performing chants. As they approached the gathering, they saw several teens dressed in black robes performing some sort of ceremony.

“Oh Lord,” Linda cried out. “Could they… have done something to Clark? Oh no, we’ve just lost Ted, and now—”

“Linda, no,” Paul consoled her. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Wait right here. Excuse me, boys,” he began hesitantly, approaching them. “Is it possible you saw this boy here…”

One of the boys smirked as Paul showed them a photo of Clark. “Your son arrived at the wrong place at the wrong time!” he shouted. “Your son should not have come!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

Paul looked intently at the teen, then at his friends. In those robes, they all appeared nothing but dumb, and they’d been burning what appeared to be their grade cards.

“Oh really?” he asked, putting his phone in his back pocket. “Well…” Paul grabbed the boy’s collar and yanked him forward.

“Listen, kid; You’d better speak out, or you’re going home with a broken nose!”

“Woah, woah, okay! Relax!” the boy Paul had warned said. “I’m…I’m Chad! And I saw your son. We did nothing to him! Mr. Bowen, the graveyard guard, grabbed him.”

“What?”

“He… he took your son, sir. I swear. He lives right outside the cemetery! We just come here every night to scare people, that’s all!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

***

When Paul and Linda arrived at Mr. Bowen’s cottage, they noticed Clark and Mr. Bowen seated on a sofa through the window. The parents wanted to burst inside and hug their son but stopped in their tracks when they overheard him talking.

Paul and Linda were embarrassed. They listened in tears and shock as Clark spoke about his heart’s worries, and Mr. Bowen advised him to reconcile with his parents. “They still adore you, little boy,” the older man said. “Look, kid. I lost my wife and child. Their plane crashed, and I’ve lived in this nightmare for years, missing them every single day and night. What’s happened in your family is any parent’s worst nightmare come true. How about we be kinder to them?”

Clark agreed, nodding at some point.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

Instead of grieving the loss of what you don’t have, take the opportunity to appreciate what you do have.

Paul and Linda could no longer wait.

“I’m so sorry, honey!” Linda cried as she and Paul stormed into the cottage. She held her boy close as her tears flowed freely.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

Paul looked at Mr. Bowen apologetically and thanked him for saving Clark. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much for what you did for our family just now.”

“No problem. I know the hell you’re going through. So, I understand. Hang in there.”

Eventually, Mr. Bowen became the Wesenbergs’ close friend. In months, idyll returned to this family’s household. They could heal from Ted’s loss and finally look at life positively.

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