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It's 2:00 a.m. and I'm alone in the
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cramped office my wife and I share. The
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only light comes from the glow of her
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iPhone screen. She never lets it out of
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her sight, so I waited for her to fall
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asleep. A slow, methodical silence
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descending over the house. Now, with the
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phone and a connection cable in my
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A small part of me, the part that once
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believed in the simple, uncomplicated
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truths of our marriage, wants to put the
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phone down, to walk away. But the lawyer
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in me, the part that sees lies in every
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detail, won't let go. I have to know.
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Our story began 19 years ago at a
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freshman mixer. But the truth is, I was
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a late addition to a plan already in
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Doris was the daughter of my mother's
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best friend, a wild, charismatic girl
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who decided on site that I was hers. I
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was a secondyear law student, reserved
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and logical. She was electric, a force
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of nature I couldn't ignore. Our
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whirlwind romance was less about love
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and more about a sense of destiny, a
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path laid out for us by our families.
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My mother, who loved me but saw me as a
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kid, told me flatly, "Doris is more
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mature than you. The fact that you're
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hesitating proves you're not ready to be
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a man." She was right. I wasn't ready,
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but Doris knew how to wear me down. She
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moved in, stretched my finances thin,
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and then got pregnant with twins right
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after I passed the bar exam.
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An accident, we told everyone, but
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anyone with a shred of sense knew
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better. In a way, I was grateful.
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Fatherhood changed me. It took a lazy
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law student and made me a relentless
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partner in a top firm.
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Doris was the foundation that held our
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marriage together. The lioness who
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fought for our family. And if she
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manipulated me, it was always with the
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best of intentions. Her desires always
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presented as our needs. I told myself I
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Being with her was easy. a comfortable
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routine I had long since grown
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accustomed to. But over time, the
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passion faded. The sex became less
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frequent, and a quiet, comfortable
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routine set in. I was a pair of worn-in
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slippers, and I was content with that.
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But what happens when the slippers get
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old? What happens when a woman wants new
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shoes? The small things began to add up.
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A phone call abruptly ended. Her call
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I found an advanced spyware program
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online, the kind I used to think was
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just for the movies. I installed it and
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for 3 weeks I heard nothing but the
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mundane details of her life. I was ready
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to uninstall it to chalk it up to
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paranoia. And then the messages came. I
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was in a meeting when my phone buzzed
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with three notifications one after
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Remember we only have two days, Mark. I
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miss you so much. When and where?
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The reply from a man named Cooper.
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12:30. Love you. I left the meeting, my
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heart pounding, and drove to the
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restaurant they had chosen. I was too
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late to confront them, but not too late
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to listen. Through the earpiece, I heard
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it all. Mark was young, confident, and
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slick. He was a predator, and he was
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hunting my wife. "Your husband? That
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guy's a joke," he said. And I heard
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Doris's soft, breathless laughter. He
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called me old, boring, and stiff. He was
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right, of course. I had become all those
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things, but to hear it from someone
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else, to hear her agree, it was
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devastating. And then the ultimate
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betrayal. "I just need time for
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everyone's sake," she said, her voice a
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soft, intimate whisper. "He's the love
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of my life, but you, you make me feel
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different." I pulled into the parking
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lot and watched them leave. She was
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stunning, dressed for him in a way she
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hadn't dressed for me in years.
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He was handsome, maybe, but young. So
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He pulled her close, his hands moving
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over her body, and a part of me expected
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But I felt only a cold, sickening
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numbness. He didn't love her. He wanted
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her, and she in turn wanted to feel
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young again. This was a midlife crisis,
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a desperate attempt to reclaim a youth
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she had sacrificed for me. But it was
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also something more. It was a choice.
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and she was choosing him. I thought I
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would be invisible in my own home, but I
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was wrong. I was a problem to be
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managed. The next day, I started working
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out, bought new clothes, and got my
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haircut. No one noticed. I was a ghost
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in my own life, a familiar fixture they
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no longer saw. The next day, a new
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conversation came through. It was Doris
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on the phone with my mother and her own
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mother. I heard them discussing me, my
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sudden changes, my potential midlife
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He's just feeling lost. Doris's mother
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said, "We have to be careful."
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They weren't trying to convince me to
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accept an affair. They were planning how
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to reshape me in their minds to steer me
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My mother, the woman who had pushed me
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into this marriage, chimed in, "David
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just needs guidance. We need to ease him
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into it." Listening to them, I felt like
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I was back in a courtroom, a helpless
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client being told how my life would be
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decided for me. I was a victim of their
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eminent domain, a piece of property to
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be managed and controlled. I have spent
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my entire career fighting for people who
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have been taken advantage of by the
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powerful. And now I was one of them.
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What was I going to do? Stay or leave?
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And what about the twins?
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The girls who I had read stories to
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every night, they were in on it, too,
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telling their mother, "He'll understand.
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It's not like he has a choice. Who else
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would want him?" Their laughter rang
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through my earpiece, and I felt the last
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vestigages of my love for them drain
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away. I was no longer a father to them.
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I was a thing, an inconvenience to be
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dealt with. The realization was more
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painful than the affair itself. I had
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spent 19 years being a good husband, a
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good father, a man who worked hard and
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provided everything. But in the end, I
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had lost myself. I was a man who had
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everything, and now I had nothing. I
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pulled out my phone and tapped into the
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live conversation. My mother-in-law was
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talking, a cold, calculating tone in her
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voice. Your father is a good man, a
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proud man, a devoted husband. If we
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handled this properly, he'll come
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A sick feeling crawled up my spine. My
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mother, I realized, hadn't just pushed
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me to marry Doris. She had done it
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because she was in on the game, too. She
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had used me as a pawn in a larger
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scheme, a grand design to ensure Doris
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had a secure life, even if it meant she
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had to have affairs on the side.
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The affair wasn't the problem. The
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decades of deception were. I was a
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fraud, and so was my entire life. As I
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sat there listening to them discuss my
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fate as if I were not a man but a
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problem. A dull, cold rage began to
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build inside me. They thought they had
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me. They thought I was a puppet, a
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simple man with a simple mind, one they
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could manipulate with a few well-placed
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But they were wrong. I had been a ghost
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in my own life for years. But now I was
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back. And I was going to make them
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regret they ever forgot I was in the