Don Johnson

Kieran was gone when I woke up. I got washed up and then lingered in the walk-in closet. When I left his villa, I was lugging a suitcase, filled with all the flats he bought me. I didn’t care what he did with the rest of the dresses and handbags and perfumes. I couldn’t recall the exact day I gave up on high heels. It was just so hard to go back to them once I got used to the comfort of the soft ballet shoes. Like that proverb went, only the wearer knows where the shoe pinches. I thought the same applied to marriages as well. I was inundated with calls from friends and acquaintances after my divorce became public knowledge. They all expressed their lament and disbelief. ‘Landon is such a great guy! What happened?’ They all got the idea in their head that I was somehow to blame for the breakup, an idea that was no doubt put there by Rainey and Shannon. I had to switch off my phone to dodge the flood of calls. My visa application was approved quickly. Then I got in touch with a wealth ma