At 2:47 p.m. today, my wife, Carolyn, sent me a text message containing four words: “We should talk tonight.” No emoji. No exclamation point. No follow-up. Just four words and a period that felt like a gavel coming down.

It is now 3:15 p.m. I have prepared three separate apologies. The first is for something I might have done but am not aware of. The second is for something I probably did and have since forgotten. The third is a general-purpose apology covering the years 2019 to present, with specific subsections for holidays, in-law visits, and any time I said “it’s fine” when she asked how dinner tasted.

I do not know what this conversation is about. It could be about the dishes. It could be about her mother’s visit. It could be about the fact that I said I would fix the screen door in September and it is now March and the screen door is in the same condition it was in September, which is broken.

“I have been married for sixteen years. I have learned that ‘we should talk’ never precedes good news. Nobody has ever said ‘we should talk’ and then followed it with ‘I bought you a boat.’”

I called my buddy Rich to ask what he thought. He said, “What did you do?” I said I didn’t know. He said, “Think harder.” I have been thinking for thirty minutes and have compiled a list of fourteen possible offenses, ranked by severity and likelihood.

I considered texting back “About what?” but every married man knows that question only makes things worse. You do not ask for the charges in advance. You show up, sit down, and wait for the opening statement.

I have also purchased flowers, which I will keep in the car. If the conversation goes poorly, I will bring them in. If it goes well, I will bring them in and say I bought them “just because.” Either way, the flowers are coming inside.

At press time, Carolyn had followed up with “Never mind, I figured it out,” and I was sitting in the driveway with a bouquet of tulips and a blood pressure I have not yet measured.