Garrett had one hand on his car door when Mia’s name lit up his phone.

He read the last message twice. No list. No reminder to pick up the dry cleaning. He started the car and turned the radio down before he had backed out.

Mia was sitting at the kitchen table when he walked in. His iPad lay beside her, screen dark. A grocery bag was still on the counter with a carton of milk sticking out.

“I was looking for that chicken recipe,” she said. “Your browser was open.”

He put his keys down carefully. “It was probably a link. Sometimes those things just…”

“Garrett.”

Her voice shook. He started to explain again, then stopped. He knew how to argue when she was angry. He didn’t know what to say to the hurt on her face.

“It wasn’t a link,” he said.

Mia waited. He pressed his thumb into the shallow mark his key ring had left in his palm.

“I’ve been looking at porn.”

“How long?”

“A long time.”

“Since we’ve been married?”

He nodded, then made himself answer. “Before that too.”

She pulled her chair back a few inches. He noticed the movement immediately.

“I keep telling myself I’m done,” he said. “Then I do it again.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“I thought I could stop.”

“I didn’t know.” Mia looked down at the tablet. “I didn’t know any of this.”

He wanted to explain how many times he had tried. There were deleted apps, passwords he had changed, mornings he had started over. None of it answered what she had just said.

“I should’ve told you,” he said.

She stood to put the milk away. Garrett moved toward the bag, then stopped when she picked it up herself.

Later, Mia stood in the laundry room with the dryer open. She had gone in for a towel and forgotten which one she needed.

She pulled one out and held it against her chest. Her chin started to tremble. She pressed her lips together and took a breath, trying to get it under control. The tears came anyway. She wiped them with the heel of her hand, but more followed until she was crying into the warm towel.

She leaned against the dryer. Garrett moved his chair in the kitchen, and she held her breath, afraid he was coming. She couldn’t bear having him ask if she was okay.

Her phone buzzed with a reminder about work. Tomorrow, people would still need forms signed and appointments scheduled. She silenced it. Several minutes passed before she could make herself go back to the kitchen.

Garrett was still at the table.

“I can’t talk anymore right now.” Her face was wet, and she didn’t try to hide it.

“Okay.”

He started to stand. She shook her head, and he sat back down. She went past him toward the bedroom.

Today, write down what’s been happening with pornography and what shame has been telling you about yourself, then bring both to Jesus.