Closing a $10 million deal felt like reaching the top of the world. After months of hard work and sleepless nights, the contract was finally signed. To celebrate, I brought home a symbolic duffel bag filled with fake bills—my client’s dramatic way of marking the moment.
At home, my wife Ria greeted me in silk pajamas, wine in hand. When she saw the bag, she joked, “Is it real?” I laughed. “Just a trophy. The real money’s in escrow.”
She playfully offered to keep it in the closet “just in case.” I didn’t think twice. “You’re my wife,” I said. I kissed her goodnight and crashed.
By morning, she was gone. So were her clothes, her phone, and the bag. In place of her coffee mug was a folded note.
