The Perfect Husband

I know he is not my husband. He looks like my husband, but he is not my husband. I watch as he does the dishes and smiles at me.
"Everything ok honey?" he asks. My husband would never do the dishes and he never calls me honey. People would call me crazy. A husband who cooks and cleans, and I'm complaining?

They don't know Andrew the way I do. He is far from the perfect husband.

I shake my head and smile back. I leave the kitchen and go into the living room. Since he came home he has cleaned the entire house and made dinner. Now he is in there cleaning up The Andrew I knew would come home from work and lock himself in his study, until dinner, say two words to me, then lock himself in his study again.

He wasn't always like that. In the beginning we were full of hope and love. As the years went on and our attempts to have a child failed, we began to grow distant. He buried himself in his work. I busied myself with our home and finding new fertility treatments. We became people who merely existed together under one roof. One day he came home and was completely different. I've been studying him ever since. He may have had a change of heart and wants to put more effort into our marriage. Maybe he is having an affair and feels guilty. Both good theories, but something just doesn't fit.

He joins me on the sofa a while later and flicks on the t.v.

"No work tonight?" I ask.
"I finished everything at the office." he says.
I smile and pat his shoulder. He is lying to me and I don't know why.
He watches football as I read. Andrew has never liked football, or any sport for that matter.
As we get into bed that night, I smile at him and he smiles back. We are the perfect couple, who just had a perfect evening. It makes me sick to my stomach. Who is this man?
I wait till he's asleep, then I climb out of bed. I go into his study on a mission. I pull out his briefcase and open it.
"Dear, what are you doing?" asks a calm voice from behind.
I am caught in the act. I turn to face him. He does not seem angry.
"I'm sorry but you have been different lately..."
He smiles.
"So you've caught on?" he asks.
I nod, wondering what he was going to tell me.
"I am not Andrew as you may have guessed."
I say nothing and wait for him to continue.
"Please, come take a seat." he says.
Suddenly, things become clear as he takes me to a chair. We are not in my home. We are in a white room. I am in a hospital gown.
"Carly, your husband is dead. You have been having hallucinations. We, as your overlords, have determined your treatment. Allowing you to participate in these hallucinations , and us as well, is part of it." he says.
I turn and look at him and realize he looks nothing like Andrew. I am not scared and I allow him to lead me back to my bed. As I fall asleep that night, all I can think is, whoever that was, he would make the perfect husband.