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Chapter 2

I felt the Uber driver's disgust as I caught his eyes through the rearview mirror. Maybe I had

a little more to drink but I deserved it. Maybe I wasn't the elegant woman I’d been a few

hours ago but being publicly humiliated by the man who was supposed to love and protect

you would do that to you. He could have chosen any other day. He could have served me at

home. He… we could have found a way to work it out. I didn’t do anything to deserve this.

“Here,” I slurred, pointing at the house I used to call home.

He parked and I sat, dreading going in. Dreading the lingerie I lay out on the bed

for when we got back home. He could have done this any other day.

"Miss?" The driver queried.

"Sorry. I'm just… I'll get out of your hair." A part of me hoped he'd tell me to take all the time I

needed but the vice-grip he had on the steering wheel told me all I needed to know.

I stumbled out of his car as fast as I could, which wasn’t fast at all. I looked down at my

beautiful white dresses stained with a huge blotch of crimson down the front, a reflection of

the current state of marriage.

The house was quiet when I walked in. Silent, except for the clinking pieces of my shattered

heart. I didn't do anything to deserve that. I didn't know the love of my life could humiliate me in

the worst way possible. Divorcing me on our wedding anniversary? And in the presence of

so many people. The pitying looks made me want to shrivel up an whither away. What the

hell did I do to deserve that?

Moments from that evening played in my mind on repeat. I'd wanted him there so bad until

he arrived, and then I wanted him to never have come. I wanted the clock to go back to

before I had my whole world turned upside down.

I clutched my chest and my knees gave out. I couldn't bear the pain. I loved this man with

everything I had. I stuck with him through all the turmoil, and the drama with his family. I did what

a good woman – a good wife was supposed to do. And still, there I was, crying my eyes out

on a cashmere rug. I couldn't believe my life.

Thankfully Grace wasn't home. She at least had the decency to let me pack in peace. Or

maybe she hadn't heard. No, she definitely was with him when he filed – or told him to file.

No way she would miss the opportunity.

With a heavy heart, I pulled out my suitcase from the back of my former walk-in closet and

started stuffing it with as many hoodies and sweaters as I could. Where I was headed, I

knew I wouldn't be attending any dinner parties. I didn't even know where I was headed.

I felt so alone, so unworthy of love. I felt like a dirty rag, so easily discarded after serving its

purpose. My heart ached so for my husband for the love I'd lost. The love that was never

really mine.

I felt like a little girl again, sitting on the floor against white stucco walls. My collarbone

stinging from a cut I didn't know how I got. I can't even remember how I got there and what I was

doing there but I know I felt utterly alone.

Here I am again, a lifetime later and I've been abandoned yet again.

Fuck my life. I guess some people a destined to be alone.

I'm jolted back to my reality by the clacking of heels against the tiled floor. A cold sweat ran

down my back as my eyes widened like saucers. I smelt her perfume before she opened the

door - jasmine and sandalwood. Such a lovely scent wanted on a putrid person. The wicked

witch had arrived.

I tried to wipe my tears and get up off the floor but I couldn't. All my strength had leaked out

of me, leaving me a barely functional husk of pain. I wept for myself. I wept for how weak I

was.

The door slammed open and there she was. Through my tears, I was able to make out her

figure. She was radiant and slutty in a floral dress that barely covered her thighs. Despite her

age, she had a figure men would die for. And she knew it.

A cackle startled me. "Why the hell are you still here, you dumb cow? Shouldn't you be

halfway down whatever hole you crawled up from?"

I couldn't – just couldn't. My face was drenched in salty tears and it wouldn't stop pouring.

"Look at you," she continued. "Did you really think you could keep a man like Auden? Did

you think you had what it took to be a trophy wife? Because that's all you ever were." She

laughed again. "You're like Icarus, trying to get to a place you don't belong."

"I'm glad he opened his eyes and saw you for the golddigger you really are." She walked up

to me and I flinched. She reached into my suitcase. "Just like a golddigger. What the hell are

you doing with this bag? You plan to use it as a pillow while you sleep under a bridge?"

I curled into a feral ball on the cold floor.

I heard the retreating clicking of her heels. "I'll come back in the morning. Don't be here."

SLAM.

I'd had this dream before. But in my dream, Auden was there to defend me, to keep the

snapping jackals at bay.

She never liked me, never pretended to. And he knew it. He would tell me how she would

come around and learn to love me. She never did. Eventually, her hatred for me started to

rub off on him, and his energy towards me shifted. My more morning kisses, no more

late-night snuggles. He became the stereotypical workaholic businessman who never had

time for his wife.

But he loved me once. He used to make me feel so desired, so cherished. So whole.

With eyelids laden with lead, I sunk into darkness, dreaming of a time before it all went down

the drain.

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