My wife, Sarah, started acting strange about a week ago.
She was walking on eggshells, her smile never quite reaching her eyes.
Then came dinner, where she sprung it on me: "I was looking online and found a great clinic that does comprehensive health check-ups. They have a couples' package."
It sounded reasonable, but the forced casualness in her voice made my stomach tighten. We were both in perfect health.
I looked at her, really looked at her, and saw not concern, but a desperate, calculating fear.
"Sarah, what' s this really about?" I asked, and the pretense of a normal dinner shattered.
She confessed, not with words, but with a flinch: this was about Mark, her childhood sweetheart, who was dying and needed a kidney.
The "comprehensive health check-up" was a screening – for me.
"He' s not my ex-boyfriend!" she cried. "He' s my friend! And I' m just asking you to get tested. That' s all. It' s just a blood test. It' s not a big deal."