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Work was agonizing, it took forever.
The boss was cranky. Clients were impatient. I was on my last nerve.
I starred at the clock all day waiting for this moment, the moment where I could come home to my beautiful wife and finally relax but something was amiss.
I opened the door to our two story townhouse and was confronted by nothing. Her car was in the garage, so she had to be here, but there wasn’t a trace of her to be found. The only light present was the glow from the street light, piercing through our sheer curtains. There wasn’t even a smell. Usually she’d be home by now cooking dinner.
It’s just a regular weeknight, so what’s going on?’
“Baby?” my voice echoed through the hallway and up the stairs. “Are you home?”
I looked around for her keys, her bag, her shoes, and found nothing. This was very peculiar. I set my coat and briefcase down and reached in my pocket for my phone. I knew she would hers on her especially if there were unseen circumstances that would cause her vacancy from our home. I called her and heard her ringtone from upstairs.
I slipped my shoes off and thought she might have laid down for a nap and lost track of time.
Her ringtone had stopped as I opened our bedroom door. There was her phone, lying on the nightstand by her purse, but where had she gone off to? I was actually starting to worry. This wasn’t like her at all.


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