Undercover agent charges the hall

My wife and I were at home. It was the middle of the night, the first year we were married, and we were asleep in our apartment in the downtown area of a major city.

Somewhere around 3am, I abruptly woke up when I saw a shadow walking down the hall towards the bathroom. Then, the person took cover in the bathroom, as if they noticed that I saw them.

I sprang from my bed and charged down the hall— full speed— yelling, “Get of my house!”

No sound. No one replied. Nothing.

As I readied myself to burst through the door and confront the intruder, I heard my wife sobbing on the other side.

“It’s me,” she cried.  “It’s just me.”

She had difficulty calming down. And she looked at me with fear in her eyes— as if she was terrified that I was about to attack her.

I didn’t realize she had gotten up and gone to the kitchen to get something to drink. 

I sat in the bathroom, on the floor, just holding her as she sobbed. I realized that I now saw danger everywhere— even inside the four walls of my own home.