Fresh Start

Today was the fifth day since my divorce. I'd been searching for job openings online but no company wanted to hire me. Not even small establishments — once they saw my profile, they'd reject me outright.

According to them, I had no relevant work experience – a 10-year gap in my resume thanks to being a devoted wife and mother.

The rejection letters and emails all hinted at the same underlying reason: ‘Public records show you're recently divorced from Ryan Thompson.’

And then the subtle suggestions would follow: ‘Concerns about potential distractions or media scrutiny affecting our workplace’. Or ‘Question marks over your mental stability given recent highly publicized family issues’.

The drama at Sophia's birthday had made it to the press. As public figures, Julia and my husband were painted as the victims, while me was a mentally deranged neighbor and wife. Especially after my son and husband took sides with my bullies.

My phone buzzed with a news alert: “Ryan Thompson Opens Up About Toxic Marriage – Highlights Ex-Wife Adele Ford’s Mental Health Issues.”

I clenched my jaw so tight that my gums hurt. He was forcing me to go back to him. I had no money, my public image was close to none, and my clothes, bags, and shoes had been stolen from my hotel room.

Hotel management claimed they knew nothing about it, hinting that I didn't bring anything with me, but I knew it was my ex-husband's doing.

Two days from today, my money will be exhausted. I wouldn't be able to pay for this hotel and eating would be challenging.

I'd thought I had some money that would last me months, if not a few years without work, but I realized too late that 90% of my money was taken from my account.

I'd gone to the bank, but they claimed nothing of such happened. They claimed the same amount I had now was what I'd always had. They hinted at my mental health, suggesting I go see a psychiatrist. My account manager said it with pity in his eyes.

I wanted to sue them but I had no proof. No alert, nothing.

They were genuinely trying to make me believe that I'd truly gone insane, that I was seeing things that weren't happening.

First was at Sophia's birthday celebration, when all my bullies suddenly went silent. Second was the hotel management, claiming I brought nothing with me to the hotel and they even showed me a CCTV footage of me entering the hotel with nothing. I knew that wasn't me. Although the person looked like me and even wore the same dress, I could tell it wasn't me.

And now, the banks.

I was fighting against a millionaire monster. A Psychopath and I have no chances of winning even if I tried to fight.

He was calling me back in every dubious way possible, but I'd rather go to the slum.

That evening, I took what remained of my clothes – a jean and a shirt, with flat shoes, and checked out of the hotel room. I couldn't afford another night.

I walked out into the cool evening air with barely $200 left in my wallet, feeling utterly defeated. No home, no job, no money, no family – Ryan had successfully erased my existence.

I wandered aimlessly, my feet leading me to a nearby park bench where I collapsed, exhausted emotionally and physically. I didn't know how long I sat there, staring into space and living inside my own thoughts. When I realized it, the sky was darkening.

...

As night fell, the park grew darker and quieter. I'd just finished a burger and coke, and now, I was sitting there again, lost in thought that I failed to notice the person standing beside me.

"Ma'am, do you need some help? I've been watching you sit here for hours." A young woman with a kind face and a warm jacket stood before me, holding a thermos.

“I can't get a job,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. It was the last thing I was thinking before she arrived.

She was taken aback for a moment before her lips broke into a wide grin. “Miracles do happen, I guess.” She began. “I work in a beach resort. A few colleagues of mine just quit, and I come here every day to scout for interested workers." She continued, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"We've been frantic to fill the positions..." She laughed, not speaking further. She put a gentle hand on my arm. "I'm Emily, by the way. And you are...?"

I stuttered out my name, "A–Adele.” I was still trying to process this unexpected turn of events.

Emily's words poured out rapidly. "It's a housekeeping job, but there's room for advancement. We offer a small studio apartment above the staff quarters – free rent for employees!"

Tears of joy pricked at my eyes. “I'll take it!” I exclaimed, scrambling to stand up. “When can I start?”

She chuckled softly. "Tomorrow morning, 8 am sharp, but if you can start tonight, much better. I'm on my way, in case you want to come with me?"

“Of course, of course. I'll start tonight!” I was both excited and nervous. What if they found out about my ruined reputation, would they also turn me away?

“Better, let's go.”

…

The resort wasn't very large, it looked like a place where middle class families and couples came to escape city life. It was exactly the kind of low-profile place I needed to build back my emotional state.

Emily parked her car near a discreet entrance marked "Staff Only".

As we stepped out, she reassured me: "Mark, our manager, is a kind man. He focuses on work ethic, and nothing else."

But my anxiety lingered – what if Ryan had already spread his lies this far? What if they know? Would Emily stop being nice to me?

We walked through the staff door into a cozy office area where a gentle-looking young man with reading glasses looked up.

"Emily, perfect timing! This must be our new housekeeping team member?"

Emily nodded, "Adele, this is Mark. Mark, Adele is eager to start tonight."

Mark smiled warmly and extended his hand. "Welcome, Adele. Before we begin, may I see your ID for payroll purposes?"

My heart sank. This was what I dreaded. To not keep him waiting and bring trouble upon myself before it came, I rummaged my handbag and brought it out, praying he hadn't seen the news yet.

His eyes scanned the card slowly, and for a terrifying moment, his expression remained neutral.

Then, he looked up at me – a hint of surprise flickered across his face, but surprisingly, it was followed by kindness.

"Adele Ford..." He paused, then added gently, "formerly associated with Ryan Thompson, I presume?"

My face burned with embarrassment and fear – he knew. But instead of hostility or suspicion, Mark's voice remained warm.

"We don't judge personal lives here, Adele. Only work ethic matters. Emily vouched for your character – that's enough for me."

I couldn't put my gratitude in words, so I bowed deeply. “Thank you so much, Mr. Mark and Ms. Emily.”

“It's okay. Just call me Mark.” He entered my details on his computer and handed me my ID, “Emily, take her to join Sarah. We have some important guests tonight. So impromptu that my head almost went bald.” He beamed, eyes shinning with happiness.

Mark's witty comment and warm smile put me at ease as I took my ID back from him.

Emily grinned and clapped with excitement. "Thank the Lord, God!"

Their happiness rubbed off me and I found my sour mood soothing out. She linked her arm through mine.

"Come on, Adele, let's get you changed into uniform – you're officially saving our night!"

Before we left the office, Mark called out, “Emily, make sure she knows.”

Know what?

My interest was piqued, what was going on?