Chapter 10 - Crawling Back Across The Atlantic In Coach Class
Using the last of his personal emergency airline miles that Abigail hadn't cancelled, Brandon managed to book a single middle seat in the very last row of a commercial flight back to the United States.
The flight was an agonizing ten-hour descent into personal humiliation.
Sitting wedged between two coughing passengers, without access to in-flight meals because his cards were deactivated, Brandon had plenty of time to reflect on his arrogance.
Just one week earlier, he had imagined himself lounging in five-star Swiss resorts, drinking vintage champagne, and laughing at the naive wife he had left behind in Utah.
Now, he was returning with empty pockets, a ruined reputation, and the clothes on his back smelling of damp London rain.
When the plane touched down in Salt Lake City on Wednesday afternoon, Brandon pulled his hood over his face and slipped through the domestic terminal, terrified of seeing federal marshals at every turn.
He had no money for a taxi. He had to walk three miles to a bus stop, using spare change he found in his coat pocket to take a city bus to the foot of the upscale neighborhood where he and Abigail had shared a home.
As he walked up the steep, manicured driveway of the estate, he noticed something strange.
The locks on the front gate had been replaced with biometric keypads.
The security cameras were brand new, tracking his every movement with soft whirring sounds.
Brandon took a deep, trembling breath, smoothed down his wrinkled wool coat, and walked up the front steps to the massive oak front door.
He pressed the doorbell.
He fell to his knees on the welcome mat, prepared to weep, beg, and plead for mercy the moment the door opened.
The door swung open.
Standing on the threshold was not a weeping, heartbroken Abigail.
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It was Detective Miller from the county sheriff’s department, flanked by two armed deputies and Marcus Reed holding a stack of legal documents.
Behind them, sitting calmly on the sofa in the brightly lit living room, was Abigail, sipping a cup of hot chamomile tea.
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