For Eight Months I Thought I’d Found Love After My Divorce — Then a Woman I’d Never Met Recognized His Photo and Said “When I Knew Him, He Went by a Different Name,” and I Understood Every Breakfast Had Been Reconnaissance
I had been selected for my circumstances, by a professional, using a method refined on women before me.
The sameness was the proof of my innocence: you cannot both be a uniquely gullible fool and the interchangeable output of a repeatable process.
Gregory had counted on each of us feeling alone, singular, ashamed, because a woman who believes she is the only one this happened to stays quiet — does not compare notes, does not go to the police for fear of looking stupid.
The isolation was not just how he ran the con.