I Found 30 Strange Red Spots On My Husband’s Back — The Doctor Took One Look And Said, “Call The Police.

The morning sun had just begun to spill through the kitchen blinds when I noticed it again — the way David winced as his shirt brushed against his back.

At first, I thought it was nothing — maybe an insect bite, or the summer heat causing a rash. But over the weeks, his discomfort grew. Every night, he’d scratch absentmindedly until his skin turned red. Our bedsheets were peppered with tiny lint marks from his nails.

“Maybe it’s the new detergent,” I suggested once, trying to sound casual as I passed him the oatmeal.

David smiled that quiet, tired smile of his — the same one that first made me fall in love with him eight years ago. “It’s fine, honey. I’ll survive a little itch.”

That was David. A man who never made a fuss. Who came home from work covered in dust, kissed our daughter Emma on the head, and still found the strength to laugh at my burnt lasagna attempts.

We didn’t have much, but our small house in Tennessee was full of laughter, warmth, and love — the kind that made every struggle worth it.