For 18 Years I Took Sleeping Pills… Until I Discovered What My Husband Was Doing At Night… SHOCK!

Mission: Inconveniently Awake

The technical side of building our trap was honestly hilarious in hindsight. Here I was, a woman who could barely operate our smart TV, suddenly learning about keystroke loggers, GPS trackers, and encrypted communications.

Rebecca had to talk me through installing tracking software on Brad’s laptop, which involved me crawling under his desk at 3:00 a.m. trying to plug in a USB device while he slept upstairs. I felt like a middle-aged Mission Impossible reject, especially when I got stuck under the desk and had to wiggle out backwards, knocking over his pencil holder in the process.

But the real shock came when the private investigator, a former cop named Tony who looked like he’d stepped out of a 1970s detective show complete with the mustache, uncovered Brad’s history. My husband had been married twice before.

Both women were wealthy. Both had developed severe insomnia requiring medication, and both had lost significant amounts of money before their divorces.

The first wife, Sandra, was now living in a small apartment in Detroit, having lost her family’s fortune. The second, Monica, had actually died officially from an accidental overdose of sleeping medication.

“I tracked down Sandra,” Tony told me, sliding a phone number across the table.

“She’s willing to talk, but April, prepare yourself.” he warned.

“Her story, it’s going to sound very familiar.” he added.

The call with Sandra was like talking to a future version of myself who’d lost everything. She’d taken sleeping pills for 12 years, discovered Brad’s deception only when a bank error led to her being contacted directly.

By then, he’d already moved most of her assets. The worst part, she said, her voice hollow, wasn’t losing the money.

It was realizing that every kiss, every “I love you,” every anniversary celebration was just him maintaining his investment.

“We’re not wives to him, April.” she said.

“We’re just accounts to be emptied.” she finished.

The Vulture and the Prey

Meanwhile, my mother-in-law Janet was circling like a vulture. She’d started dropping by unexpectedly during the day, always when Brad was at work.

“Just checking on you, dear,” she’d say, but her eyes would scan the house like she was taking inventory.

One day, I pretended to be deeply affected by my medication and acted loopy. That’s when she let her guard down, muttering to herself while going through our mail.

“Brad better hurry up. I’m not getting any younger and that assisted living facility in Bokeh isn’t going to pay for itself.” she muttered.

So Janet was in on it, too. Her own son was drugging and robbing his wife and her main concern was her retirement plan.

I wanted to throw my supposedly drowsy self at her and scream, but instead I played up the medication effects even more, stumbling and slurring my words.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed with fake sympathy.

“Brad, your dose… you seem to be building a tolerance.” she noted.

The Final Transfer

The night of the final transfer arrived faster than expected. Brad came home early from his business trip—really just three days at a hotel with Victoria planning their getaway—with flowers and my favorite Chinese takeout.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said over dinner, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“We should take a vacation after my big project wraps up.” he suggested.

“Somewhere tropical.” he added.

“Just the two of us.” he concluded.

Yeah, right. Just one of us more likely, while the other rotted in a tropical prison or worse.

But I smiled and nodded, playing with my lo mein while the button camera on my blouse recorded everything.

“That sounds wonderful, honey.” I said.

“I’ve been feeling so tired lately.” I added.

“A vacation would be perfect.” I finished.

“Speaking of tired,” he said right on cue, pulling out my pill bottle.

“Let’s make sure you get a good night’s sleep.” he continued.

“Big day tomorrow.” he remarked.

“I have that important meeting.” he said.

“Remember?” he asked.

There was no meeting, of course. Tomorrow was transfer day, the day he planned to steal the remaining $2 million from my accounts and disappear with Victoria.

I took the pill with practiced ease, even making a show of swallowing it with my entire glass of water. Brad watched carefully, satisfied when I gave him a drowsy smile.

“I think I’ll head up early,” I murmured, adding a little stumble as I stood.

“Love you.” I said.

“Love you too, sleeping beauty,” he replied.

And for just a moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes: guilt, regret, or just satisfaction that his mark was playing her role perfectly. I’d never know, and honestly, I didn’t care anymore.