Chapter 51:

It was a brisk April day. I hadn’t been out of the house yet, but the wind was whipping up the leftover fall leaves and the trees were sprouting green. Audrey’s lap was a comfy place to gaze out the window at my lawn. She was sitting in her favorite recliner after having enjoyed a nice cup of tea while nursing me from her right tit. 

“Do you ever think about putting this stuff into your tea?” I had said, lifting my head up from her nipple.

“Yeah, sometimes. Is that gross?”

“Nope, not at all.”

She and I shared a laugh as we sat together enjoying our lazy Sunday. Monday would come soon enough. I’d be back at the office, reviewing our caseload, while she’d be at hers, providing treatment to her clients.

We weren’t without our problems. After everything that had happened between us, we honestly thought our marriage might end. So, at my suggestion, we started therapy. Six months to the day to be exact.

It wasn’t easy at first. We’d spend so much time thinking about the next thing we were going to say that we were hardly listening to one another. It wasn’t until we both stopped trying to win the argument that we actually started winning at marriage. Even then, there was still a lot of baggage we’d have to sift through.

For starters, I wasn’t a sex toy. Audrey didn’t own me. As silly as all that sounds, it’s something we had to discuss. Audrey simply couldn’t use me whenever she felt like it, only to stow me away for convenience. No matter what transpired between Jackie and I that night, what she did to me was inexcusable. She knew that. Therapy helped her see that, but from my perspective. 

Those were the toughest sessions to get through, but we got through them together.

If we were going to stay together, Audrey needed to respect my body and independence. It didn’t matter that I was a foot tall and fit in between her gigantic breasts, she wasn’t allowed to just shove me in there whenever we had an argument. But even more important, she could never be that rough with me again, and certainly not without my consent.

With the support of our therapist, I finally had the confidence to say what was needed. If she ever treated me like that again, we were through. Audrey simply nodded back in agreement. There was nothing for her to say back. That would appropriately come in a later session.

When that day came, Jackie was the topic. Our therapist pretty much insisted I cut off all ties with her. No exceptions. What I did with Jackie wasn’t an excuse for Audrey’s actions, per se. That would be victim blaming. But if we wanted our marriage to work, I would have to work through my obsession with the 14-foot-tall woman who stole away my height. And that meant ending things between us.

For months, Jackie lingered in my mind’s eye. Her megalomania and her insane quest to fuel her growth with the help made it near impossible to think about her. Never mind her goddess-on-earth body proportions and her gorgeous yet understanding face. For a long time, the way she looked that night we went out together was imprinted on the backs of my eyelids.

For the first few weeks I thought about her multiple times a day, wanting to pull up her Instagram and sequester myself in the bathroom. But time passed. As the weeks piled on, I thought about her less and less. Then one day, I didn’t think about her at all. And then that made me sad.

It was like I was going through a breakup. I never used that term around Audrey, knowing the fireworks it would spark, but it really did feel like that. I didn’t eat as much. I couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours without waking up in a hot sweat from a Jackie wet dream. 

But as weeks turned into months, I found an equilibrium. Urges to jerk off to Jackie’s Instagram turned into urges to sniff my wife’s panties when she wasn’t around. Wet dreams starring Jackie were rightfully recast with Audrey. And I began to sleep through the night. And drink more breast milk. 

Removing Jackie out of my orbit had a positive impact on everything in my life. My health, my relationships, and my general mindset. I was no longer chasing something. I settled down with Audrey for good. And I no longer viewed that as a bad thing. 

Finally, we were told we needed to reestablish lives outside of another and stop living so codependently. That meant she was to let me go to work and trust me to go places outside the house as long as Lizzy was escorting me. For her, it meant finding friends that she could unwind with and talk to. 

Now, we were stronger as a couple than we’d been in five years, and both of us put in the work to make it happen. 

Audrey put down the book she was reading on the side table and pet my head, engulfing it with her squishy palms. We stayed like this for a while, until she gently lifted me from the warm embrace of her robed thighs and set me down on her chair. 

“I have to go grocery shopping,” she said, standing up and tossing her robe off. “Brooke is eating us out of house and home. And Nate, well, I wish the kid’d bulk up a little.”

“He’s got my genes, Auds. I don’t think he’ll ever crack 100 pounds soaking wet.”

“Isn’t that funny? And his mother’ll never be under 250 naked.”

“And his father will never be more than a pound.”

She bent down and stroked his chin, “You’re really bad at pretending that you hate being small, you know that?"

A dormant smile drew itself onto my face. She knew me so well. A few giddy I love you’s were exchanged before she asked me if I wanted anything at the store.

“Could you get me some vanilla ice cream?”

“You got it. Be back soon, love you!”

“Love you more!”

After she stepped out and shut the door, I lay down in the still warm imprint of Audrey’s butt on the cushion and marveled at how great things turned out. I wished the kids were here to share in my good mood, but like most weekends, they were off with their friends/partners. I assumed Nate had slept over at Chrissy’s, and Brooke was probably off at some boy’s house. At the very least, I knew both of them went to a party last night. 

I had told them to be careful as they rushed out the door. Sometimes I wondered if I was the best person to be giving advice to teenagers. My reduced height was a product of my own impulsivity from when I was around their age. 

Audrey always reassured me and told me that Brooke and Nate didn’t think of me that way. I’m their father, she would tell me, and that’s how they saw me. For Nate, maybe that was true, but whenever I gave advice to Brooke, she’d just smirk at me. Like she wasn’t taking me seriously. I know for a fact that she never looked at her mother this way, but I was never man enough to call her out on it.

Yes, the way Brooke looked at me was my biggest problem. I accidentally reminded myself of my privilege after a minute of mental complaining. 

I sat up in the oversized chair and slid down to the floor. It was time to make myself a steaming cup of coffee. 

BOOM BOOM BOOM!

I nearly fell flat onto my face from the thunderous knocks at my front door. I could swear the whole front of the house shook. 

“Coming!” I shouted, then said under my breath, “Damn it. Who the hell is this?”

Without reading into anything, I opened my miniature door and was greeted by a familiar, yet chilling sight. On my stoop were feet double my height belonging to a woman in open-toe red stiletto heels, and legs wrapped in dark black pantyhose that climbed up, up, and up as I craned my neck. A skintight velvet red dress hugged thighs that were as tall as Audrey and traveled up an hourglass figure, the fabric stopping just above the biggest pair of nipples on the planet, which were situated on the biggest pair of boobs on the planet.

And like a drug, my obsession with Jackie was back in full force as soon as I laid eyes on her. All the progress I’d made in forgetting her was for nothing. 

“Long time no see Dessy! You gonna let me in or what?” her voice roared from above. Her eyes just barely crested her balcony of boobs as she leaned down to talk to me. 

“L-Let you in?” I stuttered.

“Yeah, let me in. Wouldn’t that be the polite thing to do?”

“What?! What are you even…my wife will murder me if she sees me talking to you!”

“Well, good thing you’ll be far far away from here before she can do that.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m here to take what’s mine. You. You’re coming with me. And we’re gonna pick up where we left off.”

“Pick up where we…that was over 20 years ago for God’s sake! And no! I’m married!”

Jackie got down on her knees, which barely changed how much she towered over me. Now, instead of being eye to eye with her feet, it was her lower thigh taking up my field of view. 

I craned my neck even more, only to get grabbed like prey by her hulking hand. Her fingers constricted around my entire body except my head, and she whizzed me up past her ballooning chest so I could look her in the eye. 

“Guess you’re not gonna let me in, huh? Well, that’s OK. I’m not offended.”

“Jackie, let go of me!”

“OK, little man!”

Just like I asked, she let go, only instead of stumbling onto the floor, I landed on her tits. I bounced a few times before rolling to a stop. I tried to get up all nonchalant, then scolded myself for even caring how she viewed me. And blasé wasn’t in my nature, especially as a man standing on a tit like it was a hilltop.

Predictably my embarrassment continued, because standing up was a lot harder than I would have thought. Her skin was slick, as if she’d just lotioned it up, so I kept slipping and sliding. When I finally steadied myself, I was hypnotized by her ravishing blue eyes, the same ones that manipulated me all those years ago. But more than that, her gorgeous pupils were accompanied by the longest black eyelashes I’d ever seen. And just when I was about to look away, they fluttered. She’d do that whenever she was horny. At least that’s how I remembered it.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“What? This?” She batted her eyelashes again, this time with a full smile, brilliant white teeth included. All of that combined with her high cheekbones, fabulously kissable lips, and her subtle golden tan was far too much for me. I creamed my doll-sized pants. 

“Damn it, Jackie,” I grumbled, clutching my crotch.

“Ha! Good to know mama’s still got it!”

“Can you just leave me alone? You humiliated me. You got a laugh. Can’t that be enough?” he asked. 

“Nope, I’ve made up my mind. You’re leaving right now with me.”

“Jackie! You need to get this ludicrous idea out of your head!”

“What ludicrous idea?”

“That you’re going to just up and kidnap me in broad daylight! Audrey and I are happy together, and you need to accept that!”

“You know, I accepted that for a long while. Believe me. I accepted it back when you betrayed me in college. And when your self-righteous, harpy of a wife marched onto my lawn and cursed me out because I dared to give you a ride to and from work, I accepted that you’d be with her. You know why?!” she asked, suddenly raising her voice, sending ripples through her breast flesh. I nearly stumbled into her cleavage. 

“Why?”

“Because I was content to leave you with the psycho bitch who was going to make your life miserable. You didn’t have the sense to leave her, and I’m beneath trying to convince you.”

I marched further up the incline of her breasts and raised a blistering fist at her.

“Don’t you dare talk about her that way, Jackie. You had your chance with me back in college. You blew it when you decided to go on a fuckin’ power trip and permanently shrink me and beat the piss out of Audrey!”

“Oh, give me a break, you little worm!” she fired back. “The only reason I’m here is because deep down, I know, I KNOW, you’re unhappy! You told me so when you went out to dinner. You’re the one who stepped out of his marriage so you could bitch and bitch and bitch some more about how, ‘Audrey and I don’t click anymore! Audrey shoves me down her shirt! Audrey stuffs me in her pants!’ And the best of all, ‘Audrey doesn’t shrink me!’”

I tried to retain my stern disposition and keep my bottom lip from quivering. That was tough when Jackie had me nailed to the wall.

“Yes, I permanently shrunk you, Dessy. And with God as my witness, you’re never growing a centimeter taller than you are right now.”

I silently fumed, outraged that she had the audacity to flaunt her control over me like this. But I took a deep breath. She never had a problem adding insult to injury. Why would she change now?

“Don’t act like you’d have any idea how to live your life as a five-foot-tall man now. I made you what you are,” she said, “And since I made you, I want you back with me. Permanently.”

“Well, that’s not what I want, Jackie. I want to carry on being the man of my house. I want to—”

Her laughter drowned out my comeback. More distressing, giggles led to jiggles. And jiggles caused me to fall flat on my face and slide down her chest until I fell into her cleavage. She could imprison me without even touching me, and without noticing. When I slipped in between her tits, she still had her head held high, chortling at how I referred to myself as the man of my house.

It didn’t take long for her to eventually look down and take heed of the tiny little head popping out from her boobs. Cue more laughter that just made me sink deeper and deeper into her soft, wonderful bust.

“Oops, the man of the house had himself a fall. Should I call the fire department?”

I couldn’t speak anymore. I was buried in boob up to my nose. I just glared straight up at her and hoped she would have mercy on me. No. I didn’t even have her pity. She just grinned and waved as I slowly descended into the great deep. 

I wanted to try clawing my way up and out from her breasts, but from experience, I thought better of it. The inside of Jackie’s cleavage wasn’t drenched with sweat, but dampness was certainly present. Any effort I made to climb would be punished with further sinkage. So, I just stayed motionless as my clothes soaked up her salty excretions. To be honest, my mouth, my eyes and my nose were absorbing quite a bit of wetness as well. And I’d only been inside her for 30 seconds at most. Even the byproducts of her very existence were enough to totally overwhelm me. 

Thankfully, I was plucked from her sweaty, squishy twin prisons and sat down on her left boob. I was a fair distance away from her plunging cleavage line, which made me feel better. I wiped the moisture off my face and tried convincing her that kidnapping me was insane.

“Jackie, I know you’ve got it in your head that this is what you have to do, but you can’t. I’ve got a family now. A job. Things aren’t as simple as when we were 18. Do you really expect me to leave my whole life behind?”

“Yes, I do. Because even though you’ll hate me for a while, you’ll eventually come around to my point of view.”

“And what is your point of view? Kidnapping a full-grown man with a family is justified?!”

“First of all, I’m not kidnapping a full-grown man. You’re a teeny tiny little man.”

I walked into that one I suppose.

“And second of all,” she continued. “You can think of this as a kidnapping all you want. But I think of it as plucking you out of an abusive, loveless marriage.”

I scoffed at her. “Even if that was really what you thought, which I don’t believe, I have the right to live my life any way I want, regardless of whether you approve or not! And I know you, Jackie! This isn’t some noble crusade to save me from myself! You’re being selfish and you don’t want to take no for an answer! At least be honest!”

She stared at me for a few moments. Her face was inscrutable. I didn’t dare break the silence though. I wanted her to react to what I said. And react she did. She raised her hands above me and gave me a slow clap, followed by a patronizing smile.

“You’ve become much more perceptive, Desmond. And you actually seem to have a backbone. Maybe Audrey did do you some good after all,” she finally said.

I squinted at her, confused.

“You’re right. I’m not trying to save you from anything. I do want to make you happy though and taking you away from all this is the best way to do that. Just be patient and trust me.”

“Trust you?! I—”

“That’s enough out of you,” she said, gently pinning me with her pointer finger, “I gave you plenty of time to scream your little head off. But now it’s time to be a good boy and listen to me.”

I thrashed about underneath her finger, fueled by the portent that I really was about to whisked away from everything I knew forever. She was so huge, and I was so small that I could feel the grooves of her skin brushing up against me. As I squirmed helplessly, she fake yawned, which only made me angrier. 

“Dessy,” Jackie said, with her finger still pinning me to the swell of her tit. “You’re chipped, aren’t you?”

“No!” I snarled a lie.

“Yes, you are. Now, I just need to know where it is on your body.”

“Why?!”

“Ah hah! Got you! Now, where is it?”

“No, I can’t tell you!” I spat, remaining steadfast in my efforts to escape the crushing weight of her finger pad.

“I don’t have the time nor the inclination to argue with you about this. Tell me where the chip is NOW!

The pressure increased. She was pushing me down into her breast, and the pain was excruciating. My chest was moments from caving in, my arms were nightmarishly close to snapping in half, a blood vessel in my eye popped and my brain was being slammed into my skull. 

I knew that if I gave up the microchip, I was essentially signing my life away to Jackie. I’d perhaps never see my wife and kids again. But one more second of her finger flattening me, I’d be a pulp. A stain. A spot of red goop. And then I’d for sure never see my family again.

“WAIT! MY ARM! MY ARM! IT’S IN MY ARM!”

The finger lifted. I could feel air again. I could breathe. I could see. My momentary relief at being alive was replaced with the fear that Jackie was about to mutilate my arm to remove my only insurance policy.

“Listen, Jackie, please don’t hurt me alright! Audrey doesn’t always check my location! Maybe we could—”

“Pipe down! Obviously, step one when I get you out of here is retraining you to have respect for me. Stop talking and trust me, alright?”

I nodded because what else could I do? Satisfied with my compliance, Jackie reached down into her cleavage, fishing around for something. Did she have a Swiss army knife down there that she planned to use? 

What she actually pulled out stunned me. Well, more accurately whom she pulled out. It was a man. A young man. He didn’t look a day over 19. And he was smaller than I was.

“Jackie, you didn’t…”

“Oh, I did. He’s eight inches tall, isn’t that just so cute?!”

“Jackie, please just…let him go.” I stood, looking over the nude, athletically built man as she placed him down on her boob in front of me. He wasn’t even as tall as my chest, and he looked petrified.

“I’ve trained him for this very moment,” she said. “Since my fingers are too big and clumsy, he’s going to cut that little transponder out of your arm with his tools.”

She set down a roll of sized-down surgical implements in between the new guy and me. With his eyes he was pleading with me not to try anything. Not wanting his punishment to be on my conscience, I had no choice but to sit and hold out my arm. Jackie had me cornered. 

The guy picked up what looked to be a scalpel, and I just pointed to where the chip was. I could just barely feel it in my arm.

“How old are you, kid? Are you OK?” I asked in a hushed voice.

Before he could answer, Jackie’s voice rumbled from above, “No chit chatting! Get to work on Desmond’s arm. Now.”

“Yes, Goddess,” he spoke in a hoarse and high-pitched voice, uttering a phrase I was all too familiar with. 

As he was about to cut into me, I whispered, “Be careful, alright?”

He nodded, then aimed his focus downward to my forearm. He felt around for the chip and once he found it, he sliced through my skin. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, but blood came gushing out. Then, with a pair of tweezers, my shrunken surgeon yanked out my microchip.

“It’s done, Goddess.”

“Good. Wrap his arm up.”

After my wound was covered in gauze, Jackie lifted me up to her face with a single finger. I hung on for dear life and cowered in the face of her shimmering blue eyes. 

“I’m sure you have questions, Dessy. I’ll explain everything once we’re safely away. But for now, you’re going into nature’s pocket.”

She lowered her finger until I was right back at the base of her boobs. And once I was wedged inside up to my waist, she pushed me right back down into her dark, yet delicious cleavage. 

***

The supermarket was jam packed today, and at first, I couldn’t figure out why. Then I hung a right down the candy aisle and was assaulted with bright colored chocolate eggs, countless goody baskets and shelves brimming with box of peeps and chocolate bunnies. It was Easter. How could I forget?

It was actually quite easy, I realized. Desmond and I weren’t that religious, so the day itself never had much meaning beyond showering Brooke and Nate with candy. And the kids had been far too old for that kind of thing for a while now. So really, the holiday could have come and went without me knowing. 

As I pushed my empty cart down the aisle and watched parents frantically getting what they needed for their Easter bunny surprise for their kids, I got a little choked up. The kids used to love waking up in the morning and seeing what the mythical rabbit had brought for them. One Easter, I’d even gotten Desmond to dress up in a bunny costume. I told him the day before that it would be perfect. He was about the same size as a bunny and the kids would get a kick out of it. When he grumbled and mumbled about how it would be humiliating, I gave him the look. 

The next day, the kids were jumping up and down in unbridled joy as their father hopped around the living room on all fours in his bunny get up. And he surprisingly got really into the role too. He talked with a high-pitched voice and even laid an egg filled with candy. I’ll never forget Brooke saying, “Ewww, Daddy pooped out an egg!”

I quickly wiped the tears streaming down my face with the back of my hand. No one wanted to see a grown woman cry in the middle of a store. I pushed the past out of my mind and beelined it out of the Easter aisle. 

I stocked my cart with meat, most of which I would freeze when I got home. I was sick of going shopping every other day, so I hoped this would cut down on the grocery trips. But as all mothers know, there’s always one little thing you don’t have when you start cooking. I was certain I was forgetting something, but I was eager to get back home to Desmond, so I decided to just check out. 

There were no cashiers at the store anymore back like when I was growing up. There was checkout bay at the front of the building, with painted rectangles on the floor to show where to put your cart. A laser from above scanned over all my items, and total was shown on a screen to my left. 

$550. A relatively cheap trip. 

When I hit OK, the money was instantly beamed out of my checking account, and I was on my way. 

Driving home, my mind wandered back to the nagging feeling that I was forgetting something. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what it was. If it was something unimportant, I’d just get it tomorrow on my way home from work. But if it was important, I wanted to get it now. I was in my mid-forties, and I was already getting forgetful. I shivered at the thought of how I might be when I was 60 or 70 or hopefully 80. 

Then I passed a Dairy Queen, and it hit me. Desmond’s vanilla ice cream! So, I stopped at the next convenience store and picked up a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. It took all the will power in the world not to get myself some Chunky Monkey. God knows, I did not need it. Besides I’d probably eat 90% of Desmond’s vanilla anyway. He’d barely make a dent.

I pulled into my driveway about 10 minutes later and began unloading the groceries. As strong as I was, I couldn’t do it all in one trip. I grabbed two bags, each filled to the brim with chicken, pork, and steaks, and headed up my stone walkway to the front door. 

I walked up the porch and found a box covered in shiny wrapping paper and topped with a bow. Then, I noticed Desmond’s mini door was open. A pang of worry stabbed in my gut. 

Was he outside? He wouldn’t just forget to close the door. 

“Desmond! Desmond! DESMOND!”

No answer. I burst into the house, hoping, praying that he’d be sitting exactly where I’d left him an hour ago. He was nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, the kitchen, or our bedroom. 

Then stupid me remembered I had his location. I frantically swiped open my phone and tapped over to the app. I zoomed in on the blue dot that was my husband and it showed that he was right on the porch in front of the house. 

I scrunched my face in confusion. I was just on the porch, and he wasn’t there. Was he playing some sort of prank on me? 

Then I remembered. The box. He must have been in there. Maybe he was even wearing the bunny costume from all those years ago to surprise me. My heart swelled at the possibility. 

I charged down the stairs and brought the box inside. Before I set it down on the kitchen island, I gave it a gentle shake. I felt something slide and hit the edge. 

As I opened the box, I said, “Desmond, you are just too much sometimes. You’re a such a little—"

With the box now open, my throat went dry, and my voice disappeared. Inside was not Desmond, but some other strange shrunken man. Next to him, was a tiny component caked in dried blood. 

After looking in every corner of the box for my Desmond and not finding him, I backed away and slammed into the countertop. I dinged my hip nice and hard, but I barely felt it. A million thoughts were going through my head. Mostly horrific worst-case scenarios. But I took a few deep breaths and reasoned that the tiny man in the box most likely knew something about my husband’s whereabouts. 

I walked back over to the box, half hoping that I’d had a momentary break from reality, and I’d find Desmond in there after all. Unfortunately, the same tiny stranger was staring up at me with wide, terrified eyes. He was wrapped up to his waist in paper. 

I grabbed him out of the box and squeezed. “Who are you, and where is my husband?”

He struggled to get words out with how hard I was gripping him, so I relented a bit. 

“Speak,” I said.

“I was told to tell you to read the note…on me.”

“What note?! Just tell me…!”

Just then, I realized that the paper he was wrapped in was probably the note. I yanked the curled-up paper off him, leaving him nude. I unfurled it and placed him back in the box.

Dear Audrey,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know firsthand how difficult it is when a man runs out on you. But I want you to rest assured. Your hubby is in good hands. He’s safe and sound with me now!

Did you see the little guy you found this note attached to? He’s my gift to you. I felt guilty about leaving you empty handed. He’s not just some discount human dildo either. I personally recruited him and shrunk him. I even trained him for you! I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it eventually, that is, if you even care.

Just think Audrey: he’ll be a perfect replacement. Dessy told me every lurid detail of what goes in Casa Tracey. But honestly, isn’t 12 inches a little big for someone your size? I think you’ll find your new toy much more fitting. He’s smaller, more limber and just tons of fun! Plus, he’s young and dumb, which means no back talk! You can shove him in and out of your snatch as much as you like. That’s what he’s built for. I think a thank you is in order, but I understand now may not be the best time.

Oh! I almost forgot! Check that app on your phone. Maybe you forgot which one. It’s the one you would use to shrink Dessy, only you never did. So rude! He has needs, you know? Perhaps if you satisfied them, he’d still be with you.

Anyway, you should find a whopping five feet in there. You could grow to be the second tallest woman in the world if you wanted. Nothing wrong with being second best! Or maybe you’ll share the wealth with the family. Make that scrawny boy of yours a man and grow your daughter into a goddess. Or you could give the toy’s height back to him and send him on his merry way. Will you be the bigger person, only smaller?

My guess is, you’ll keep him and use him just like you did to my Dessy.

P.S. In case you were wondering if Desmond really ran away with me, I included some photos beneath the tissue paper. They’ll convince you he wasn’t the faithful husband you thought he was. I think I’d be even more of a bitch if I didn’t tell you. So let this be your closure. It’s better this way.

XOXO

Jackie

I read every word of the letter over and over in disbelief, and after reading Jackie’s postscript five times, I crumpled the letter and threw it to the ground. I grabbed the tiny man and held him in my left hand while I flung the tissue paper out of the box. I couldn’t believe Desmond did anything with Jackie. She had to be messing with me. 

Of course, that delusion melted away as soon as I saw the first picture in the box. It was a selfie of Jackie in her limo. She was holding a nude Desmond, and there was cum stain on her tits. It was clear as day. From the date of the photo, I realized that this must have been the day she’d given him an innocent ride to work. 

I tossed away that photo, then found another. In this shot, Desmond and Jackie were face to face, exchanging a longing gaze at one another in some fancy restaurant. The third and last photo was Desmond voluntarily walking into Jackie’s cleavage. 

The disappearance of my husband, the new tiny boy, the infidelity: it was too much to process all at once. My chest tightened and my legs buckled. I collapsed to the floor and blacked out.