My husband decided I was dead long before anyone else did.
All of a sudden, I found myself being forced to sign some documents that seemed legal but would in fact put me into mortal danger during my next deployment overseas.
From a very early age, I joined the Army as a career choice. Everything involving survival skills, operations in extreme weather conditions, and other emergencies became automatic for me. The one thing that was certainly beyond my knowledge and experience was coming home from a mission to find my own husband trying to betray me.
One week before the explosion of events, I returned home from a training camp much earlier than expected. When I entered the house from the backyard, I heard my husband Gavin talking to someone in the kitchen. He stopped the moment he realized I was home.
“All we need is one final confirmation,” I could heard him saying. “Once she’s gone for the Montana trip, everything becomes a lot easier.”
Another man laughed, and I knew it was my step-brother Clint, the very same Clint who, for years, had criticized each one of my career moves while still being unable to hold onto a job.
As soon as I stepped into the room, they both seemed thoroughly surprised. However, Gavin was the first to recover, putting a ridiculously fake smile on his face. “There you are! We were just discussing your financial paperwork.”
That explanation was far too fast and too well thought-out. Nothing seemed quite right. He then offered me a folder. “Here you’ll find an updated power of attorney to sign before leaving for another trip next week.”
I took the folder and examined it. On the outside of the envelope, there was no sign of anything wrong; only when I flipped it over did I notice a lipstick stain on its back flap. The color was bright red and couldn’t be mine for the world, Alyssa Miller, one of Gavin’s wealthiest clients, was the owner of that particular shade. An uncomfortable sense of dread filled me to the brim; though I had no evidence whatsoever, I suddenly started questioning my marriage.
For the next couple of days, however, Gavin seemed to have become oddly affectionate. He would bring me flowers, cook me dinner, and continue proposing spending more time with him. Any other person would take such behavior as a sign of love, but to me, that just seemed like pre-planning.
He then proposed us taking an escape weekend trip together, claiming that it was our anniversary and we needed some time to catch up. Against all my better judgment, I had agreed. The destination was an old wooden cabin secluded in Montana’s wilderness.
It seemed surreal to me, the way we traveled there. The moment we arrived, it was starting to snow. The cabin was surrounded by large pines; in fact, it was isolated and silent.
The moment I entered, the door closed firmly behind me. As I turned around, trying to open it, I realized the lock clicked into place. I could hear the loud clinking sound of the padlock fastening itself from the outside.
My heartbeat stopped for a moment. “Gavin!”
I moved to the window, where I saw him standing on the porch. He was not alone. Alyssa stood right next to him.
They stayed still for a minute or two, then Gavin raised my satellite phone in one hand, while holding my winter jacket in another. The truth struck me with a blow: it was planned.
“It was never really about us,” Gavin said. “But about what comes after you are gone.”
I looked at him in utter disbelief. The man who had been by my side all my life, was staring at me like I was just a memory. He spoke about all of it in this cold, calculated manner. Insurance policies, pensions, property investments – apparently, I was much better dead than alive. Once they finished explaining everything to me, Alyssa chuckled, looped her arm around him, and the two of them walked away, leaving me alone, trapped in a freezing cabin with a blizzard heading in my direction.
For a moment, the feeling of sheer panic overwhelmed me. Not because of fear of death; because I couldn’t seem to comprehend how someone close to me could have pulled a stunt like this off on me. And then everything changed. Panic faded away and I got myself into the mode of mind which allowed me to survive. Reality is the first thing you need to face when you are trying to survive. And mine was bleak – there was no way anyone would come to rescue me.
The cabin was a total wreck, with its chimney covered with ice, its windows protected with extra layers of glass, and the interior temperature dropping dramatically. As I began to tear the place apart looking for any usable material, the hours dragged on, my fingers grew numb, and eventually I tore apart a bed frame, using its metal parts to tamper with the locks.
The task was painfully slow. A few times, when I thought I couldn’t go any further, I realized that there was only one principle that every survival expert would have known: to focus on what’s right ahead and do not try to assess the entire situation. Eventually, however, I heard a clicking sound coming from the locked door.
I heard two more clicks, and finally, after a very long time, the lock popped off. The heavy padlock fell to the floor and even though I knew it was just a metal object, to me it sounded like the best melody in the world. After taking off the chains, I simply walked out of the room into the snowstorm.
The track out of those mountains nearly killed me. But I pushed myself through, one step at a time.
Finally, I ran into a military base. I was totally drained, frozen, and bruised all over. While waiting to be attended to by the medics, I came across a newspaper lying on the table next to me. In front-page news was none other than my own face. I was reported to be dead as it was assumed that I had vanished during a training mission and presumed to have been lost in the storm. There I sat, reading my own obituary, before bursting into laughter. There was nothing else left to do except scream.
Two days later, I found out Gavin had arranged a funeral for me that cost around $100,000. I had no idea mourning me was so expensive. I decided I was going to attend it.
There were military men, local dignitaries, friends, and media people everywhere. Flowers lined up rows upon rows on either side of a lovely casket right at the front of the room, and that particular casket was entirely devoid of contents. Gavin had stepped up to the pulpit to give his magnificent speech, and from any perspective, he seemed to be a thoroughly heartbroken widower. He choked up in all the right places, and tears brimmed beautifully in his eyes. Almost, I thought, he had earned my admiration.
That is when I opened the church doors.
Everyone’s head turned around as I walked to the center, still in the ripped up clothes and snow covered boots.
He was as terrified as anyone when I showed up at the funeral with the padlock that Gavin used to write me off.
Alyssa seemed to have seen a ghost, literally. I stopped right by the coffin, holding the padlock, and announced, “I’m sorry I’m late. I had a bit of difficulty escaping.”
Absolute chaos broke out as Gavin tried to convince everyone that I wasn’t who I appeared to be, Alyssa screamed, and the others were left dumbfounded. The federal agents, however, were already there. They’d both be put in handcuffs before it was over. I felt nothing but relief.
But then again, the nightmare was far from over.
It took months after the courts proceedings and divorce had settled down before I discovered that Gavin wasn’t alone in this. Everything led to Clint. He was the one providing Gavin with my movements down to the exact location. In a way, it hurt me even more knowing this than anything else that they had done to me. They didn’t care about how long I had known them; they viewed my life as something worth cashing in on. Fortunately, he got what was coming to him.
Everything is so different now. I no longer try to figure out the reasonings behind what they did. Now I run a survival camp in the mountains for women who come with their own burden of abuse, fear or loss.
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Bored Daddy
Love and Peace
