Sleepy-eyed but with a smile on her face, she looked across the room, her eyes fervently trying to adjust to the darkness while searching for his silhouette. 

The sound of furious rinsing and gargling led her eyes to the half-opened bathroom door in the corner. She heaved a sigh of relief. She caught a quick glimpse of him leaning against the sink, while he spat out the rest of the mouthwash. 

Rinse. Gargle. Repeat. Nothing to see here. She turned her eyes to the ceiling in the dark, and focused on the repetitive sounds.

Finally convinced that he had replaced the taste of her mouth in his mouth with that of menthol and the 21.6% of flavoured ethanol in Listerine, he came out of the bathroom. 

He peered in the dark and started picking up his clothes from the floor, making polite conversation with her in the process. He picked up his phone, and checked his messages. 

“What time will you be home? Need to put the lasagne in the oven.”

He sighed. Lasagne again?

“Just leaving work now, see you in half-an-hour.” 

Then he hit the send button to his wife.