She reached over to his side of the bed only to find he wasn’t there. Matter of fact, it looked as if he hadn’t ever been there. She quickly sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The initial burst of light temporarily blinded her. Once she was able to see again, she scanned the room for any sign of his presence. There was nothing to be found. She threw back the sheets and swung her legs out of the bed. This was third night this week that she had spent without her husband, and it wasn’t getting any easier. She grabbed her phone and checked her text messages. There was one from him. It simply said: I’ll be home late. But that was over an hour ago. It was almost 3 in the morning. She put on her robe and slid the phone into the pocket.

She shuffled into the kitchen and made a cup of tea. As she sipped, she reminded herself that she had signed up for this life. She knew what he did for a living when she met him. He gave her ample opportunities to walk away if she had any qualms about the life he lived. She chose to stay. She had come to love the trappings that his lifestyle provided. That’s the thought that kept replaying in her head as she sat at the kitchen table and stared at her phone screen. She battled internally with whether or not to text him, just to see if he would respond. She finished her tea and headed towards the living room. She looked out the window, hoping to see his car either sitting in the driveway or pulling in. That hope was quickly dashed as she stared out at the darkened suburban street they lived on.

She tried to convince herself to not worry, that this was just like the other times he stayed out late to handle business. She made her way back to the bedroom and climbed into their king-sized bed and wrapped herself in the soft, Egyptian cotton sheets. Just go to sleep and he’ll be here when you wake up in the morning. She closed her eyes and patiently awaited the Sandman’s arrival. After what felt like an eternity, she opened her eyes. Although she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, something just felt wrong. She knew she couldn’t sleep until she was sure he was okay. She quickly grabbed her phone and sent him a text. Then she placed the phone back on its charger and rolled over.

An hour later, she was still laying there. He hadn’t replied. Now, her imagination was running rampant with different scenarios that could’ve led to him not responding. What if he’s laid up with some other bitch?! She could feel her blood begin to boil. Although he had never given her any inclination that he was or had been unfaithful, her mind ran through a whole scenario where she caught him in the act of infidelity. She wildly shook her head, trying to expel the notion. What if he’s in the hospital, or worse, dead? A stream of tears rolled out of her eyes and onto the silk pillowcase. She fought back against the negative thoughts that were wreaking havoc on her subconscious. She reached onto the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills. Without thinking, she quickly threw one in her mouth and swallowed.

When she woke up from her drug-influenced nightmare, it was early in the afternoon. Their daughter had come into the room while she slept and climbed in bed with her. “Where’s Daddy?” the little girl asked as her mom’s eyes fluttered open. She had turned on the TV and was halfway watching cartoons. “He had to work late baby, he should be home soon.” The little girl shrugged and devoted all of her attention to the colorful programming. “Are you hungry, baby?” Without breaking her gaze from the screen, the little girl nodded. She semi-struggled to sit up and softly shook her head. As she climbed from under the sheets of the king-sized bed, she grabbed her phone. Still nothing. She slipped on her robe and shuffled towards the kitchen.

While she was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, her daughter came running in with her phone. “Daddy’s calling!” she exclaimed as she sprinted through the house. A wave of relief washed over her as she took the phone and answered the call. “Hey babe. You on your way home?” There was no response. “Honey?” Still no response. She hung up the phone and placed it on the counter. No sooner than she did, it rang again. She looked at the screen, her husband was calling again. She answered the call but before she could say anything, an unfamiliar voice spoke. “Don’t say anything, just listen.” Her heart dropped into her stomach as her mind conjured up the worst possible scenarios. The mysterious voice informed her that her husband had been kidnapped and that if she wanted to see him again in one piece, she needed to come up with half a million dollars in 2 hours. “Where am I gonna get that kind of money that fast?!”

“I’m pretty sure your husband has a bug-out bag stashed somewhere around the house, that’s a good place to start.” Then he hung up.

She stood there, frozen, afraid to show her true emotions with her young daughter in the room. “So when’s Daddy coming home? Can he take me to the park?” She didn’t respond, so the little girl repeated her query. “Go get dressed baby, and watch TV.” The little girl shrugged and scampered off towards her bedroom. The woman sprinted out into the garage and started frantically searching for the emergency suitcase her husband told her about. After a few moments, she remembered that he moved the bag to the closet in their spare bedroom. She raced into the room and snatched the leather weekender bag from the top shelf of the closet.

Once the bag was in hand, she went to her bedroom and quickly got dressed. Once she was decked out in sweats and a pair of tennis shoes, she dumped the contents of the bag onto her bed. It was full of money, mostly small bills banded together. She took a quick moment to count the money, there was almost a million dollars. She grabbed her phone and called her husband. After a few rings, someone answered the phone. “I got the money,” she said softly. “Good,” replied the mysterious voice, “I’ll have one of my associates stop by and collect it.” She paused, thinking of all the movies and TV shows she saw involving something like this. “How do I know you’ll let my husband go once you have the money?” There was a short pause.

“I see your husband has taught you well. Very good, what would you suggest?”

“Let’s meet somewhere in public, but I want to talk to my husband now so that I know he’s okay.” After another brief pause, her husband’s voice oozed through the phone’s speaker and assured her that he was fine. Small tears formed streaks down her cheeks. “Now that you know he’s alive, tell me when and where I can get my money.” They agreed to meet in an hour inside the North terminal of Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, right next to the baggage claim area.

After she ended the phone call, she reached into her nightstand and grabbed the Walther PPK/S her husband bought her. She slipped the handgun into the waistband of her sweatpants, right at the small of her back. Then she put the bag in the trunk of her car. She called to her daughter and asked if she was dressed. “Yes Mommy!” the little girl exclaimed as she dashed through the house and towards the garage.

“Get in the car, we’re going for a ride.”

When they arrived at the airport, the little asked, “Are we going on a trip, Mommy?” She told the little girl that they were meeting her father before going to the park. She parked the car, retrieved the bag from the trunk and they walked into the busy building hand-in-hand.

As they made their way towards the baggage claim area, the woman grew more and more nervous. And the more nervous she got, the tighter she squeezed her young daughter’s hand. “Ouch Mommy!” the little girl exclaimed. She knelt down to apologize and kiss her daughter’s hand. Just as she did, the crowd around them seemed to part and she laid eyes on her husband. Before the little girl caught sight of him, she instructed her to stay very close and not to make a sound. The little girl nodded and they approached her husband. She stopped just a few feet short and surveyed her surroundings. Where are the kidnappers? Before she could say anything, her husband closed the gap between them and planted a long, passionate kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry to put you through this, my love, but I had to make sure you could handle yourself if something like this happened for real.” Big, fat tears raced down her cheeks. He pulled her close to him as she meekly pounded on his chest.

“You don’t know how worried I was!” He apologized again and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered as he took the leather duffle bag in one hand and her hand in his other.