My husband said he’d left his passport at home minutes before our anniversary flight. I asked Mom to go get it. When she opened his bedside drawer, she whispered, ‘He set you up. Come home now.’ Then she sent me a photo of his passport beside something stamped PAID IN FULL, with an 11 a.m. deadline.
“Babe, don’t freak out, but I think I left my passport at home.”
I stared at my husband.
“Dereck, you’re joking.”
“I wish I was.”
He checked the same pocket again and muttered under his breath.
We’d spent six months planning our anniversary vacation, and our flight was scheduled to leave just after nine.
Now Dereck had forgotten the one thing he absolutely needed.
***
“Where did you last see it?” I asked.
He stopped.
Then he glanced toward the airport doors.
“Actually, I’ll just go back and get it.”
“You’ll never make it.”
“My mom lives ten minutes from our house,” I said. “I’ll call her.”
“No, Sheila.”
His answer came too quickly.
I frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just don’t want to bother Vivienne.”
He shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other.
“Seriously, babe. I can handle it.”
I was already dialing.
My mother answered cheerfully.
“Shouldn’t you be on your way to paradise?”
“Not quite, Mom. Dereck forgot his passport.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Could you go to our house and check his bedside drawer? We still have time if you bring it straight to the airport.”
I thanked her and hung up.
Dereck was watching me.
“She agreed?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
But he didn’t sound relieved.
Twenty minutes later, Mom called.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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