KK:I

         Desiree Cody.

         Beautiful, young, vibrant. A lovingly committed woman who believed wholeheartedly in the sanctity of marriage. She had, at one point in time, loved her husband of nine years. Things had once been great.

         Those times seemed so long ago.

         She was emotionally exhausted, marriage was not supposed to be such a merciless trial, bound only by words on paper. There were ups and downs...naturally, but for years she had lived in a house with a stranger. The eagerness and excitement in his eyes had faded. He had finally emerged from his facade and revealed his true self.

         His own damn, selfishly immature self.

         Yet, only she had suffered the consequence.

         Things were about to change.

         Desiree knew Michael had been cheating. But, she had no proof. Her gut told her so. Call it women's intuition, but she could feel it. He'd stopped touching her, kissing her, paying attention to her all together.

         It was as if she no longer existed most times. And he did it- she realized- because she allowed him to. She stayed. Felt sorry for herself, and expected others to indulge in her self-doubt, until finally reality came crashing down and she knew she could no longer live her life that way. She no longer had the urge to cry, she loved him still, but her tears of pain and heartache had long since dissipated. If she were to ever be happy again, she needed to leave now while she still had the wits to do so.

         She climbed into her silver Volvo, her destination clear.

         It was time to confront him. She would take the executive elevator to his private floor, walk boldly into his lavishly gaudy office and tell him what she felt.

         Michael, I'm leaving your sorry, cheating ass! I'm tired of your shit, and I want out!

         It wasn't as if she didn't have her own money, she had inherited a substantial settlement from her parents' estate. She would just take what was hers and leave him.

         He could keep screwing the bitch!

         She could get a quick divorce, take only her share and never lay eyes on him again.

                Simple.

                She couldn't even begin to think of how she could have not seen his flaws from the start. Her friends warned her, but she hadn't listened. No time like the present to heed their warning.

                Michael Anderson stood about five feet nine inches with dirty blond hair, hazel eyes, and a crooked smile. At first glance, there was not an overwhelmingly compelling attraction. In fact he had persued her for months before she would even give him the time of day. He was like all men, out for sex, nothing more. She was twenty-one when they met, he was twenty-nine.

              He did have an awkward appeal to him. Perhaps she had seen hia older age as a sign of maturity and stability. Whatever her reasoning, despite her best friends' advice, she had gone out with him. Since the tragic loss of her parents at sixteen, the only family she had was her childhood friends Rebecca Pritchard and Ashlyn Covington. They were her support team. They had been at her side through it all and she had no clue where she would be without the two of them. They were like her sisters, and she loves them dearly. But Michael had been very convincing, he'd promised her the world, fed her line after line of sugar-coated bullshit and she fell for it. A year later he proposed and she accepted.

              The first few years were great, as in most marriages. She maintained an innocent naivete. She had even helped him refinance his failing business...twice. When business finally got on a roll and tue cash was pouring in he was affectionate and attentive. They would spend hours talking about anything... everything.

                She couldn't remember how the topic had come up, but one day the topic of children was brought up. She had simply stated that she would like to have children in the future and suddenly Michael changed. It was as if she has slapped him across the face. He gave some song and dance about timing and finnces et

cetera. The irony was although he felt they were not ready, he was more than ready to screw without a rubber wheneve the mood grabbed him. His reaction had crushed her but she pushed it aside and chalked it up to being newlyweds... whatever.