
I’ve been married for nine years to a woman I love deeply. We have a good marriage. We don’t have big fights or secrets, at least I didn’t think we did.
A few weeks ago, I was cleaning out our closet and came across a duffel bag tucked behind some blankets. I opened it without thinking, assuming it was old travel stuff. But inside was a perfectly packed go-bag. Clothes, cash, travel toiletries, a burner phone, and copies of her passport, birth certificate, and Social Security card.
My first thought was that it was for emergencies, but the more I looked, the more it didn’t feel like that. It felt personal, intentional. Like something someone packs when they’re planning to leave.









