Unrequited love?

Peter wakes up, a normal day in his blissful life, until his wife is kidnapped and his life takes an awful twist.

Have you ever been so worried, surprised, confused and just totally unable to keep yourself under control, not sure how you will pull yourself through another day? Well that's exactly what happened to Peter.

It had been an  ordinary, totally uneventful week. Enjoyable, certainly, but uneventful. Then during the pleasant Saturday sunshine, his world collapsed around him.

Peter woke up on the saturday;a smile on his face; his wife laying beside him;the ardent rays pushing through his curtains, illuminating her beautiful face as she lay in her own world of dreams. He kissed her forehead and rolled out of bed.

Within half an hour he was clothed, showered and had breakfast cooking in the kitchen- right on cue- his wife walked in, just as Peter placed her plate on the table.  

"Good morning honey" she smiled, her face glowing as she had her cheek kissed by her husband who then promptly took his place and began stuffing his most important meal of the day between the lips which had just kissed the most important person in his life. Then it was time for them to both leave for work.

They evacuated their apartment, both rushing along the street. Peter abruptly halted, leaning against a bus stop, he turned to face his wife.

"See you later babes" she whispered sweetly as she leaned over to kiss him. After about fifteen seconds the bus came flying around the corner- he stepped back.

"See you later Kath, I love you" he replied. Smiling as she waved farewell from the bus.

After that the day was its normal, boring self, until Peter was on his way home, trying to forget his office. It all changed the moment his phone rang.

"Peter! Help me!" came the familiar voice.

"Kath! Kath! Whats wrong?" the line went dead. Peter's whole body was encased in fear. What had happened? Where was she? Was she alive? He sprinted home praying to god that she was there.

The house was filled with silence, she wasnt there. "What if..." began to creep into Peters mind, pulling him towards a feeling of dread. He phoned the police and within ten minutes they were in his living room:one on the seat usually taken by Kath.

"So what happened exactly" the taller of the two asked, a sympathetic look on his lean, pale face.

"I was on my way home when my wife called, screaming for help and then the phone went silent." Peter recited.

"Well, we wont be able to do much, unless there is another call, which is a possibility if she has been kidnapped."

"Ok" steve groaned. They then radioed in, some officers were sent to question her boss and colleagues and steve was left sitting alone with two stone faced police officers, living in fear for his wife. Peter prayed again that everything would be alright.

I guess God never listened.

The next few hours crawled past in a wave of silence, fear-filled, awkward silence. Then the phone's deafening ring filled the air. Peter jumped from his seat, reaching for the phone, while an arm stalled him.

"Try and keep them on as long as possible, our officers have a trace on your phone calls" Then he took back his arm.

"Hello" Peter mumbled into the cold reciever.

"Hello Peter its Jane, is Kath there?" It was Kath's mum. He considered telling her, but his conscience decided it was better not to worry her.

"No, Im sorry Jane, she isnt here, i'll get her to call when she gets in... bye." Peter answered, almost bringing himself to tears.


One of the officers stood up and put a comforting hand on his shoulder telling him she would be fine - he listened without really hearing the words his every nerve telling him to expect the worst.

He sat back down and waited, listening to his racing heart again for another few hours, praying that his phone would ring: eventually God began to listen to him. The deafening ring split the silence again, Peters heart began its attempts to leave his chest again.

He lifted the phone, Kath's petrified voice met his eager ears.

"Help..."  Then it was gone, replaced by a gaunt male voice.

"I have your wife, you will bring £150,000, or the next time you see her will be in a box"

Silence. Tears began to stream down Peter's face.

Five minutes later Peter stormed out of the house, he walked not really caring where, his world falling away at his feet every ounce of his soul wanting to hit something- the police tracer had failed, it never had enough time- and now he wasnt sure if he would see his wife again.

Although Peter had often heard that you never fully appreciate someone until you lose them, he had never fully understood it until that momen, realising all of the niggly arguments they had been recently having meant nothing, all that mattered was getting his wife back.

After a few hours, Peter began to take in his surroundings, realising that he was miles from his home he spun on the spot and headed back. Althoug his wife was at the forefront of his mind there was something nagging him just behind it.

How on earth did they know that he would be able to pay the money? He would never have managed it if he hadnt inherited £250 thousand from his dead grandmother only days before.

When he got back, the house was the same as he had left it,silent, with another car sitting outside with two officers in it.

He stepped into the living room.

"Im going to pay the ransom" They both looked at each other as though they had predicted this answer.

"We called the bank and told them that money would be needed, but we didnt know how much until the officers tracing the call told us, so we'll call back, and we will leave you here till tommorow, there will be a car watcing your house all evening."

"Thank you" came the reply as Peter got to his feet, a sudden pang of hunger carrying him towards the kitchen.

"Do any of you want something to eat" he shouted back towards the living room, a slight pause, then,

"No, thank you." came back in reply.

"Suit yourself" Peter mumbled.

Twenty minutes later, the officers had fled, going on another call, Peter had swallowed his food and was lying on the couch, preparing himself for a long night ahead.

The minutes ticked past, fading into hours, after what felt like weeks, it was mornign and time for Peter to go the bank, time for Peter to save his wife. That walk to the bank was the longest and most nerve-racking walk of his life, he arrived, took a deep breath and let his feet carry him through the doors.

The bank manager was standing patiently waiting, with a huge suitcase in his hands and two guards flanking him.

"Here is your money sir, I hope you get your wife back safely."

"Thanks"Peter heard his voice say, not really with his permission, while his hand accepted the suitcase as it came towards him. He spun around and began to walk back towards the doors, the two officers behind him the whole way.

Peter pounded the pavement, trying to get home as quickly as he could, he had to get back in time for another phone call which would inevitably come.

As he put the key in his front door, a ringing noise met his ears. He quickly twisted the key and pushed, in one swift movement he was in the living room, with the cold plastic of the phone against his ear.

"Hello" he said desperately.

"Do you have the money?" came the cold, harsh grunt.


"Here is what you do...go to the town centre and at the entrance to the bus station, there are lockers, the key will be left at reception, number 48." Then silence returned to the room.

Peter collapsed onto the couch, he was feeling sick and could feel his heart hitting against his ribcage. It was time.

Ten adrenaline-filled minutes later and he was in a crowded bus station, hesitantly stepping towards the reception, his fear increasing, his body trying to think if he was being watched or not.

"May I have the key to locker 48 please?"

Without question the women handed it over, smiling politely. Peter began to wonder why she had just given it to him without saying anything, but as he put the suitcase into the locker, he failed to notice the wide grin spreading across her face as she lifted her phone.

Moments later, around twenty officers ran into the station, heading to the lockers, where someone had just ran towards Peter, but it was too late he was gone.

Peter opened his eyes two hours later, blinded by the pain in his head and also by the interrogation style light shining into his face, he began to blink rapidly, his eyes slowly adjusting, managing to take in the figure towering over him. He had never seen the guy before in his life. He was black, with short black hair and a fairly athletic build.

"Peter, Peter, Peter."  his voice came softly, nothing like it had been on the phone. Peter tried to place his english accent. London? Maybe? His hand flew towards Peter's mouth ripping of tape that Peter hadnt even noticed, he was so surprised by his surroundings, leaving a burning pain in its wake.

"I gave you the money, what do you want?And where is my wife?"

"You want to see your wife, admirable. Kath come over here."

His wife strolled into his line of sight, a suitcase in one hand and a phone in the other, possibly just used to contact the receptonist, who knows?

"Hello Peter honey" she smiled menacingly.


"Peter, I dont love you anymore, I am in love with Julius." Then she walked over to him, passionately kissing him to prove her point.

Peter felt his heart shatter inside his chest.

"You should have seen it coming" Julius mumbled, a cold smirk crossing his face. And once again Peter realise a typical cliche, "Love is blind".

"Oh and thanks you for funding our new life." Then they both left leaving Peter alone, on the floor, his life ripped apart.

About an hour later, Peter was found and untied by the police... the smiling police? They had caught his wife and her lover just as they boarded a plane,.

Peter smiled, trying to be happy, but he just couldnt do it, he had lost his wife.

And nothing was ever going to put his heart back to the way it had been before.

The End

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