After 47 years of marriage, I lost my teeth, stopped taking care of myself, and became an old woman who did nothing but housework. My husband no longer kissed me, and one day I overheard him saying, “I can’t live with this woman anymore.” But the next morning, I realized that after 47 years, I had never truly known my husband’s real character.

Then I noticed an old photograph of myself lying on the table, taken years ago when I still had my beautiful teeth.

Beside the photograph was John’s phone.

A new message appeared on the screen from an unfamiliar woman.

“Everything is ready. I hope your wife doesn’t suspect anything. Once you bring her here, there’s no turning back.”

I looked at my husband, and for the first time in our 47 years of marriage, I was afraid to ask what he was planning to do to me.

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John walked over to the wardrobe and took out my old blue dress—the one I’d worn on our 30th wedding anniversary.

“Put this on,” he said.

“John, you know it doesn’t suit me anymore.”

“Just try it, Mary.”

His expression was so serious that I didn’t argue.

When he left the bedroom, I sat on the bed and cried.