This is the time. I could tell him. Maybe he’ll be fine with it. He wants kids eventually. No, this isn’t quite the schedule we planned. But babies happen. You can’t control it.

I open my mouth, ready to say the words. I’m pregnant, Ethan. But they don’t come out. And I’m not sure why.

Maybe I’m reluctant to give him some surprising and possibly upsetting news when we’re stuck in an isolated house, just the two of us, where nobody can hear us and there’s no way to leave.

I blink, startled by my thoughts. That last one made no sense at all—it must be some sort of crazy pregnancy hormone paranoia. Yes, I’m worried Ethan won’t be thrilled about my news, and yes, he has a temper. But he would never hurt me. I know that for a fact.

“I don’t have anything on my mind,” I say finally. “Just a little tired.” I grin at him. “You wore me out.”

Ethan beams, proud of himself. He stretches so that I can see some golden blond hairs on his belly. My husband is so handsome. When I first saw him, I thought he was the most perfect-looking man I had ever seen. I figured after I had known him and dated him for a while, I would notice more and more imperfections. And I have identified a few of them. His eyes are too close together. He’s a bit on the short side for a man. Those curly golden hairs are not just on his chest, but also on his back.

But weirdly, all those imperfections make him even more handsome. I can’t explain it.

“Would it bother you if I took a shower?” he asks.

“A shower?”

“Sure. The hot water seems to be running.” He winks. “And I’ve worked up quite a sweat.”

“Yeah, but…” I don’t want to articulate how uncomfortable the idea of him going in the shower here makes me. “You don’t have a change of clothing.”

“It would still be good to get clean.”

I wrack my brain, trying to think of a good reason he shouldn’t take a shower. I can’t think of anything logical. “Are you going to use the master bathroom?”

“I was planning to.”

“Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable though? I mean, the last person who used that bathroom is a dead woman.”

He shrugs. “I guess I don’t care that much. I mean, that shrink woman disappeared like three years ago. It’s not like she used the bathroom yesterday.”

It’s pregnancy hormones. I’m sure that’s what’s making me so uncomfortable about this. There’s no reason Ethan shouldn’t take a shower in the master bathroom. “Fine. I’m going to stay down here.”

“Sure. Finish your wine.”