Chapter 2

The woman flaunted herself openly on her Instagram feed, and every caption she posted made me cringe. She wrote, "A training guide for puppies." "The puppy was a little naughty today." "Everyone, I took the dog out today. Did you go for a walk too?" Every scroll was a struggle, and agony spread through my whole body as I continued reading. I could hardly believe my eyes. For over a decade, Keith had always been so proper and old-fashioned, yet he secretly had this kind of fetish! I remembered when Keith and I first came across that group. He looked disgusted and said those people were sick. But when I got to the woman's post from a month ago, she was bragging with glee. "The aloof older guy I've been after finally agreed to be my puppy. Everyone, am I dreaming?" Memories from that day flashed through my mind. Keith had been unusually excited. After years of marriage, he treated intimacy like it was routine. But that day, he was uncharacteristically eager. He had turned me around over and over again, tiring me out relentlessly. I had thought it was because he had just returned from a business trip and that a short separation had reignited the passion. Now I finally know the reason. That had been the last time Keitha acted like a decent human being. The woman with the pink profile picture was still texting, and their conversation made me sick to my stomach. When I heard a sound from the bathroom, I quickly turned off the computer and threw myself into bed. Keith returned and lay down without a word. The bedroom was so silent that I couldn't fall asleep. Suddenly, my mind flashed with memories of every moment we shared. Keith and I had both gone through a long, painful journey growing up until we met each other. We then encouraged each other forward and shared every milestone in our lives. I stood by him as he rose from being penniless to building a fortune in the billions. But somewhere along the way, we went from sharing everything to being strangers in the same bed. When Keith was 18 years old, he got down on one knee. There was a burning intensity in his eyes as he proposed to me. "Ann, marry me. You'll be the only one in my life." Now, at 34 years old, he lay with his back to me. The faint glow from his phone lit the ceiling and caught the tears in my eyes. I could not understand why he had suddenly changed. Had Keith hidden this too well, or had I never truly known him? The man who never dared kiss me in public, whose heart raced and face blushed just from holding my hand, seemed to have died in my memories. I stayed awake until morning and only got up after Keith left. My phone held the information sent by Taylor. As I stared at the woman's youthful face, I scrolled back and forth to make sure I wasn't mistaken. I realized that this woman was the same little girl Keith and I once sponsored. Her name was Daisy Lennox. Seven years ago, Keith and I had gone to visit her. She was only 13 years old. Daisy held my hand and whispered, "Ann, you and Keith are so kind to me. You're like my parents." Now at 20 years old, she was no longer the malnourished child we knew. She had grown into a beautiful and delicate woman. I had once worried that Daisy would meet people with ill intentions while living in that kind of environment. I even told her to come to me if anyone bullied her. But I never expected that the one with ill intentions would be my very own husband, Keith. I began to wonder how they ended up together and how old Daisy had been. The more I thought about it, the sicker I felt. In an instant, I clutched a trash can and threw up violently. Afterward, I went to the living room. On the table was a pink mug filled with milk Keith had heated up for me. I was lactose intolerant. Meanwhile, Daisy had posted on her Instagram. "Not a drop of the puppy's milk left. It's all for me." I vomited again. I threw the milk to the floor, and the sound of shattering glass did nothing to calm me. After smashing several pink items, I regained some sense of control and sat on the ruined pink couch. Then, I pulled out my phone to call Taylor. "Draft the divorce papers. The sooner, the better," I said. Taylor heard the hoarseness in my voice and asked with concern, "Ms. Larson, are you okay?" How could I be okay after being betrayed by two people who were closest to me? But I didn't have time to wallow in self-pity, so I said, "Get me the best divorce lawyer and a private investigator." Taylor immediately perked up and said, "Don't worry, Ms. Larson. I won't let you down!"