I Found out My Husband Is a Sleepwalker and Leaves Our House Every Night — I Was Shocked When I Followed Him Once

When Laura discovered her husband’s mysterious nighttime disappearances, she was stunned. Following him one eerie night, she uncovered a heartbreaking secret that threatened to unravel their marriage and led them down a path of emotional discovery and healing.

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It was around 2:00 a.m. when I woke up. I reached over to touch my husband, but his side of the bed was empty and cold. The room was dark and silent except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan.

Laura wakes up by herself | Source: Midjourney

Laura wakes up by herself | Source: Midjourney

“Where could he be?” I wondered, feeling a bit uneasy. I sat up, listening for any sound from the bathroom or kitchen. Nothing. I decided to wait for him to return, thinking he might just be grabbing a late-night snack or using the restroom. My eyes grew heavy, and soon enough, I drifted back to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee. My husband, Tom, was in the kitchen, humming a tune and flipping pancakes. I joined him, still curious about his midnight disappearance.

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Coffee making | Source: Pexels

Coffee making | Source: Pexels

“Morning,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Did you get up last night?”

Tom looked at me, a bit puzzled. “Morning, honey. Get up? No, I don’t think so. You must have dreamed it.”

I frowned. “I’m sure I woke up and you weren’t in bed.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You and your wild dreams. I was right here, snoring away.”

Laughing man | Source: Pexels

Laughing man | Source: Pexels

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I dropped the subject, but a small seed of doubt was planted in my mind. Maybe I hadn’t dreamt it after all.

That night, I decided to stay awake and see if it would happen again. I set up a small lamp on my bedside table and grabbed a book to keep me occupied. Hours passed, and I fought to keep my eyes open. Around 1:30 a.m., I noticed Tom stirring beside me. My heart raced as he slowly sat up, then stood, moving towards the bedroom door.

Tom sleepwalks in his pyjamas | Source: Pexels

Tom sleepwalks in his pyjamas | Source: Pexels

“Tom?” I whispered, but he didn’t respond. He just kept walking, silent and steady.

As soon as Tom left the house, I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door. The night was chilly, and the streetlights cast eerie shadows on the pavement. I kept my distance, my heart pounding as I followed him through the quiet neighborhood. The familiar streets seemed strange and unnerving in the dark.

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Night street | Source: Pexels

Night street | Source: Pexels

Tom walked with a slow, steady pace, not noticing anything around him. I trailed behind, keeping to the shadows. The silence was only broken by the occasional rustling of leaves or a distant dog barking. I felt a growing sense of dread with every step, wondering where he was heading.

After what felt like an eternity, we reached an old, familiar house. My breath caught in my throat as I realized where we were.

An old house off the beaten road | Source: Midjourney

An old house off the beaten road | Source: Midjourney

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It was Tom’s ex-wife’s house, the one she had lived in before she passed away eight years ago. The house had been empty for years, and seeing it now, in the dead of night, filled me with an overwhelming sense of unease.

Tom walked up to the front door and started knocking, his movements mechanical and eerie. I watched from a distance, my heart aching. What was he doing here? Why was he sleepwalking to this place?

Tom walks to the house to knock on the door | Source: Midjourney

Tom walks to the house to knock on the door | Source: Midjourney

As I stood there, hidden in the shadows, a wave of emotions crashed over me. I felt hurt, confused, and betrayed all at once. Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. The man I loved, the man who was supposed to be over his past, was standing at his ex-wife’s door in the middle of the night.

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I stayed back, watching him knock repeatedly on the door, which remained closed and silent. After a few minutes, Tom turned around and began walking back home, still deep in his sleepwalking state. I wiped away my tears and followed him, my mind racing with questions and doubts.

Laura watches Tom | Source: Midjourney

Laura watches Tom | Source: Midjourney

We walked back in silence, the eerie quiet of the night amplifying my inner turmoil. Once we were home, Tom went straight to bed, slipping under the covers as if nothing had happened. I stayed up, staring at the ceiling, my heart heavy with sorrow.

Eventually, I crawled into bed beside him, my mind too restless to sleep. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to process everything. I felt a mix of betrayal and sadness, wondering what this meant for our relationship.

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Crying woman | Source: Pexels

Crying woman | Source: Pexels

The next morning, the weight of the previous night’s events hung heavily over me. As we sat down for breakfast, I knew I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Tom, we need to talk,” I said, my voice trembling.

He looked up from his plate, concern etched on his face. “What is it, honey?”

“I followed you last night,” I said softly. “You got up again and left the house. You went to… her house.”

Tom listens to Laura | Source: Midjourney

Tom listens to Laura | Source: Midjourney

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Tom’s face paled, and he set his fork down, staring at me in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“You were sleepwalking, Tom. You went to your ex-wife’s house. You knocked on the door. Why?” I asked, my voice breaking.

He shook his head, looking more confused than ever. “I… I don’t remember any of that. Are you sure?”

Laura tells Tom what happened | Source: Midjourney

Laura tells Tom what happened | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, tears threatening to spill over. “I’m sure, Tom. I saw it with my own eyes.”

He looked down, his hands trembling. “I don’t know why I did that. I guess… I guess I miss her sometimes. She was a big part of my life. But I love you. I need you to know that.”

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I looked at him, my heart aching. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep this to yourself?”

Tom remembers his wife | Source: Midjourney

Tom remembers his wife | Source: Midjourney

Tom sighed, tears forming in his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think I was still hung up on her. It’s just… sometimes I feel guilty. Like I shouldn’t miss her, but I do.”

I reached out, taking his hand in mine. “It’s okay to miss her, Tom. She was a part of your life. But I need to know what’s going on with you. We need to get through this together.”

He nodded, squeezing my hand. “I promise. No more secrets. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Tom hugs Laura | Source: Midjourney

Tom hugs Laura | Source: Midjourney

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We sat there in silence, the weight of his confession settling between us. It was a lot to take in, but I knew we had to face it together.

A few days later, we sat in the waiting room of Dr. Matthews, a specialist in sleep disorders. The room was warm and inviting, with soft music playing in the background. I held Tom’s hand, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope.

Tom described the incidents as best as he could, while I filled in the details he couldn’t remember. Dr. Matthews listened intently, occasionally jotting down notes.

Smiling therapist | Source: Pexels

Smiling therapist | Source: Pexels

After a while, she leaned back and looked at us thoughtfully. “It sounds like Tom’s sleepwalking is linked to unresolved emotions,” she said gently. “Often, sleepwalking can be a way for the mind to cope with stress or guilt that isn’t being addressed during waking hours.”

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I glanced at Tom, seeing the pain in his eyes. He nodded slowly. “I do miss her. She was a big part of my life, and sometimes I feel guilty for moving on.”

Couple at a therapy session | Source: Pexels

Couple at a therapy session | Source: Pexels

Dr. Matthews smiled kindly. “That’s very natural. What’s important is to acknowledge those feelings and find a way to address them. Ignoring them can lead to behaviors like sleepwalking as your mind tries to cope.”

As we left the office, I felt a mixture of relief and determination. As I held Tom’s hand, I knew we had a plan, and I was hopeful it would help.

Holding hands | Source: Pexels

Holding hands | Source: Pexels

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A few days later, we drove to the cemetery where Tom’s ex-wife was buried. The sky was overcast, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the trees. Tom seemed tense, but I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

We walked to the grave, and Tom stood there for a long moment, staring at the headstone. Then, he began to talk. He spoke about the good times they had, the pain of losing her, and the guilt he felt for moving on. Tears streamed down his face, and I felt my own eyes welling up.

Man walks up to a grave | Source: Pexels

Man walks up to a grave | Source: Pexels

When he finished, I stepped forward and hugged him tightly. “It’s okay, Tom,” I whispered. “She’ll always be a part of you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t move forward. I love you, and I’m here for you.”

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He hugged me back, crying into my shoulder. We stood there for a long time, letting the emotions wash over us. It felt like a weight had been lifted.

Man and woman hug | Source: Pexels

Man and woman hug | Source: Pexels

Our relationship improved as we worked through our emotions together. We learned to communicate better and support each other more deeply. The experience had brought us closer, and I felt a renewed sense of hope and love for our future.

The journey had been difficult, but it had also been healing. We had faced the past together, and now we could look forward to a brighter, more connected future.

If you liked this story, here’s another one: When Sandra was down with the flu, her husband threw a pizza party for his friends and expected her to clean up. Instead of getting the rest she needed, she had to outsmart him. Tom soon learned his lesson in the most unforgettable way…

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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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