Write a short story about a kidnapping from the point of view of the kidnapper

*Please, give me constructive criticism! * 
 
 
 It all started three months ago. My wife had been feeling sick, so she was at the doctor for her regular checkup. It was only when the doctor had decided to do some extra tests that it had showed up. 
 
 The tumor. 
 
 After that, our life was a whirlwind of tests and experiments and medicines. It was determined that it was benign, and we breathed a sigh of relief. 
 She was n't scared during the week leading up to her surgery. She thought that it would be no problem. She knew tons of friends who had had surgery, she said. Nothing ever goes wrong. 
 
 I should have realized it then. 
 
 There were complications with the surgery, and it left her unable to bear children. I was unhappy, but she was crushed. 
 
 It had always been her dream to have a child, to hold its tiny little fingers. She had wanted to see them grow up, to kiss them goodbye on their first day of school, to see their graduations and their marriages. She wanted to have grandchildren. 
 
 All that gone in the blink of an eye. 
 
 She wasted away. She refused to eat or to sleep. Instead she spent all her days crying, staring at the room we had set aside for a nursery. 
 
 When she died, it was listed as `` complications from surgery'', nothing more. 
 
 That's why I wanted the child. I kissed each one of its tiny little toes the first time I held it in my arms, smoothed the thin hairs on its head, heated the warm milk for it day after day. 
 
 I would visit my wife's gravestone and tell her `` this is for you''. 
 
 I never walk my son outside, though. His parents might see, and I ca n't have them take him away. It would break her heart.
