Exposed by GPS, Ended by DivorceChapter 1
A colleague recommended a miniature GPS tracker, and on a whim I slipped it into my husband Daniel Carter’s scooter.
I never expected it would uncover his secret. Using the excuse that his reported locations didn’t match the tracker twice in a row, I chose to file for divorce.
My mother-in-law’s family scolded me for being crazy:
“He only lied for convenience, so you wouldn’t overthink things. That’s not betrayal.”
“You’re divorcing him just because of a location discrepancy? Are you out of your mind?”
I blinked and said,
“Yes. Exactly because of the location discrepancy.”
A colleague had recommended the tracker as a side hustle. Daniel’s scooter had GPS tracking every year, but he never let me see it. One day, that colleague gave me one, and curiosity pushed me to attach it to Daniel’s scooter to see where he really went when he claimed he was out for drinks.
I never expected to see his location at Central Park. I called him, but he said he was at Westfield Mall, which was completely the opposite direction. Did he think he could just fly there? Even if he had a private plane—which citizens don’t—he couldn’t possibly do that.
“Hey, honey, don’t worry. I’m here at Westfield Mall talking about a project. I’ll be back later.”
But over the phone, I heard a dog barking.
Daniel was terrified of dogs. None of our friends kept dogs—except one person. His first love, Isabella Reed. After being abused and divorced by her foreign husband, she had returned to live alone in the States, and out of loneliness, she kept a husky.
From then on, whenever I called to check in, Daniel would either say he was at Riverside Apartments or at Central Park. But the GPS always exposed him—it was Westfield Mall.
The contradictory locations revealed his impatience. Sometimes, even after spending the night with me, he would still rush to Westfield Mall in the middle of the night. I had to admit, he worked hard for that affair.
The influence of a first love, a so-called “white moonlight,” truly is powerful.
The next morning, when Daniel got up with dark circles under his eyes, I had already called my mother-in-law Margaret Carter and the rest of the family. I laid out the divorce papers and the GPS tracker on the table.
“Daniel Carter, sign the divorce papers. Otherwise, don’t blame me for exposing your GPS history to everyone.”