The night had been long and grueling, with the usual rush of emergencies that come with working a hospital shift. By the time I got home at 11 p.m., all I wanted was to collapse into bed and forget the world. The sight of my husband, Ben, supposedly at his own night shift but instead sleeping peacefully in our bed, was a surprise. In the dimness, I shrugged it off, attributing it to a change in his schedule he forgot to mention, and turned off the light quietly not to wake him.
After a much-needed shower and a quick meal, I wound down by watching some videos online, my mind slowly detaching from the stress of the day. Eventually, I slipped into bed beside Ben, gave him a soft kiss, and fell into a deep sleep fueled by exhaustion.
What felt like moments later, I was jolted awake by Ben’s furious voice. “What the HELL is going on?!” he shouted. Groggily, I blinked at him, confusion setting in as he stood in the doorway, his face contorted with anger.
“WHY ARE YOU YELLING?” I managed, my voice thick with sleep.
“You dare to ask me?! What is he doing here?” Ben pointed accusingly behind me. Turning, my heart nearly stopped. There, on the other side of our bed, was a man—a man who looked exactly like Ben.
My mind raced. An intruder? A twin brother I never knew about? No, the answer was much simpler, yet just as unbelievable. As Ben stormed over, the man on the bed stirred and mumbled something unintelligible, his features slack with sleep. It wasn’t a man at all—it was a hyper-realistic silicone mannequin, a training tool we used at the hospital for complex emergency simulations.
I burst out laughing, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over me. “Oh my god, Ben, it’s not what it looks like,” I gasped between giggles. I explained that we had been training with the mannequin at work and, as a prank, some of my colleagues decided to sneak it into my car. I hadn’t noticed when I got home, too tired to see straight.
Ben’s anger slowly turned into bemusement as he looked from me to the mannequin. “You mean to tell me I got jealous… of a dummy?”
“Yes,” I laughed, still in disbelief. “A very expensive dummy!”
Realizing the absurdity of the situation, we both started laughing, the tension dissolving into relief. Ben helped me carry the mannequin back to the car, shaking his head. “I guess this is one for the books,” he said. “Just promise me no more surprises in our bed.”
I agreed, promising myself to double-check my car for any unexpected passengers in the future. As bizarre as the misunderstanding was, it reminded us of the trust and humor needed to keep our relationship strong, even in the face of life’s strangest moments.