Blurb

My wife Hannah Johnson posted a photo on social media with the caption: "Dogs only listen to their masters."

In the photo, Hannah was wearing sexy lingerie with a dog collar around her neck. In the bottom left corner, a man’s hand was gripping the leash.

That hand had a black dog head tattoo on the back. I’d seen that same tattoo on her boss Thomas Adams’ hand before.

I liked the photo.

The next second, Hannah called to berate me.

"Can’t you tell this is just a joke? Get a life and stop stalking my Instagram all day!"

Thomas’s cold laughter came through the phone: "That’s what losers do—they fall apart and can’t handle the smallest things."

I quietly hung up.

Hannah and I dated for two years and have been married for three.

For five whole years, I’ve been pleasing her like a dog trying to please its master. Now, I don’t want to do that anymore.

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