How a Secret Love Affair Destroyed My Relationship with a Rich Older Man

After I ran into my sugar daddy, Keith’s, wife at the air­port, he stopped com­mu­ni­cat­ing with me, and for the dura­tion of his trip in my city, I heard noth­ing from him. I was heart­bro­ken. For days I would cry myself to sleep and I just felt like I wanted to die. I couldn’t focus and I didn’t even want to work. I didn’t want to eat or shower. I just didn’t want to exist.

When I finally heard from him, he cursed me and called me every vile name in the book. After all, he had just found that I had been cheat­ing on him the whole time. But it didn’t mat­ter what he called me, because I was happy enough just hear­ing from him. He had changed his num­ber, so I could no longer reach him back home in Eng­land. He was angry and he was hurt. He told me that his wife had told him every­thing and that he felt so betrayed by me. I felt so guilty. I knew he loved me, but he was in such tur­moil. He had always begged me not to cheat on him, and I did.

I decided to con­fess every­thing and I told him about the rob­bery his wife orga­nized and about Peter, the man his wife had hired to befriend me. Since every­thing was out in the open now, I decided that it was point­less to hide any­thing. After I had fin­ished telling him my story, he knew then that his wife had set me up. Though he was not pleased with what I had done, he told me he would get to the bot­tom of it. He had asked me to describe Peter and told me that he sounded like some­one who worked for him.

Keith told me that he would be back in sum­mer and that I shouldn’t tell any­one about what I had found out about his wife. I didn’t hear from him for months, and the whole time I just felt lost. My friends and fam­ily all wanted me to for­get him. After all, it had got­ten risky and if his wife could set up a rob­bery, the next time she could be suc­cess­ful in try­ing to kill me. But the prob­lem was that I loved him. I was truly and deeply in love with him and I could not let go.

I was mod­el­ing in a run­way show one week­end and I decided I was not going to go. After my sis­ter con­vinced me finally, I went and hours before the show started, Keith finally called me. I told him where I was and he showed up. I met him in the park­ing lot of the hotel and we both broke down. He looked so tired and worn, but he was still so angry.

Keith was con­vinced that “Peter” was one of the men who had worked for him. He told me to wait where I was and that he would be right back. When he came back, Peter was with him, and as I lunged at him, he told Keith he did not know me. “You don’t know me? You lying bas­tard!” I yelled. Keith pulled out a bible from his glove com­part­ment and told us both to swear on it. I was stunned when Peter had the nerve to put his hand on the bible and swear that he didn’t know me.

Keith looked at me in the eye and told me he thought I was lying. I had never felt more betrayed. I cried and told him to take us to the sta­tion so that the police could iden­tify him. He finally agreed, but to my hor­ror, the offi­cers who had taken our state­ment weren’t there. I was offi­cially on my own. As we drove back, I was livid and asked Keith to drop me off at a cab stand—I no longer wanted to be in the pres­ence of Peter. When Keith dropped me off, he didn’t even look at me. He just stared straight ahead, with no emo­tions. I had offi­cially lost him.