When Dana’s favorite outfit disappears, she chalks it up to her sister’s borrowing habits. But the deeper truth is revealed when she finds her dress and shoes hidden beneath her husband’s toolbox.

Work photoshoots always stress me out. It’s just the fact that these photos would be immortalized on our company websites — right there, for all to see.

So, a few days before the photoshoot, I wanted to prepare my outfit. It would be my first time appearing on the website as a ‘fashion blogger’ — naturally, I needed the perfect outfit.

But my fingers trembled as I tore through my closet to find the outfit I wore to my sister’s wedding a few weeks ago. It was a sleek red dress and heels to die for.

I knew I looked good in it, and my confidence was bold when I wore it.

But I couldn’t find the dress or the shoes.

It had vanished without a trace — and I don’t misplace things, so there was no chance I had left it elsewhere.

“Sam,” I called out to my husband, who was lounging on the couch. “Have you seen my red dress?”

“Which one?” he called back.

“The one I wore to Ashley’s wedding.”

He appeared in the doorway, his expression guarded. “Why do you need it, Dana?”

“For work,” I said. “I just can’t find it anywhere, my shoes too.”

I sighed.

But then I thought about the other things I couldn’t find — my black strapless dress, other shoes, a leather skirt and even a Gucci handbag. All things that Ashley had helped herself to. My sister has a history of “borrowing” my stuff without permission. It’s been like that since we were children. But I had spoken to her about it; she hadn’t touched anything without asking since then.

“Has Ashley been around?” I asked Sam.

His eyes shifted everywhere in our bedroom except to me.

“I don’t know, love. Maybe. I’m going back to the game,” he said, walking back to the living room.

Now, usually, my husband cannot be bothered with sports. He watches it to pass the time. Usually, he would have helped me look for the dress, even checking his closet and our laundry. But he was too casual about this.

Something felt off.

When Sam went to bed, I continued my search, even going to the garage on a whim. Sam had taken out some clothes to donate last weekend, and we put them into a box in the garage.

The box only had his clothes and the linen I had taken out to donate. But peaking under Sam’s toolbox was a piece of red fabric.

I removed his toolbox and found my dress with my shoes underneath.

What is going on? I thought to myself. What is Sam’s problem?

The following day, Sam had an important meeting. He had been talking about it for a few days, and I knew he would wear his lucky tie — it had gotten him major deals at work whenever he wore it.

So, I took his tie off the hanger and slipped it into my pajama drawer.

Two could play at this game.

“Dana!” Sam bellowed as I was making breakfast. “Where’s my tie? The lucky one!”

“I don’t know,” I said casually. “Look around. I’m sure you’ll find it.”

“I’m going to be late,” he huffed, entering the kitchen.

“Give me my dress,” I said.

“I don’t have it. Didn’t you say that Ashley took it?” he said, leaning against the counter with a glass of orange juice.

“Honey, I found it in the garage,” I said. “What’s going on?”

Sam’s face turned red.

“Dana, I —” he started to say.

“Tell me the truth, okay?” I said.

“You look beautiful in it, Dana,” he said.

“Then why hide it?”

“Because you look that good. Don’t you get it? At the wedding, I only noticed how men looked at you.”

Sam paused and looked at me earnestly.

“Imagine how I felt, Dana. Men, known and unknown, were undressing my wife with their eyes. And what about the comments when you posted a photo of yourself in that dress on Facebook? I saw what your ex-boyfriend said. I didn’t want a repeat of it. So I hid it.”

I was at a loss for words. Sam had never indicated his jealousy — not even for a moment. I didn’t know where this was coming from and didn’t expect it to hit him so hard.

On one hand, I was flattered. But on the other, I was furious. Who had given Sam the right to decide what I wore? But I had been struggling with my weight for a while, and I worked hard at the gym to get to the figure I wanted.

Now that I had it — I just wanted to look my best and feel confident.

It wasn’t up to Sam to decide.

“I’m so mad at you,” I said, sliding a plate of toast toward him. “But I get it. It’s just not up to you. You’re supposed to talk to me about these feelings. You’re not supposed to act on them without letting me in.”

Sam took a piece of toast — a peace offering.

“Is this a problem? The jealousy? The insecurity?” I asked him earnestly.

Sam nodded.

We’ve been going to therapy for a few weeks now, and we’ve made some great progress. As angry as I was, I realized Sam was also only human. He just didn’t know how to communicate that to me.

I knew that at the end of the day, I needed to explore the issue before deciding about our marriage. And I’m thankful I did — Sam had begun to feel expendable.

Things are looking brighter now, and he even bought me a blue version of the red dress.

If it happened to you, what would you have done?

Here’s another story for you | Cheryl suspects her husband of cheating and seeks revenge after his daily disappearances to his garage. But when the truth of her husband’s actions comes out, Cheryl takes drastic measures to clean up her mess, ruining her entire life…