Chapter 2

walked until my feet ached and my legs felt like they would give out. I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I couldn’t stay anywhere near that apartment, near Ethan, near all the memories that hurt so much to remember. The night was cold, and I was wearing only a thin dress and carrying a small bag with barely anything inside. I had no money, no job, no family or close friends I could run to—Ethan had always been the center of my world, and I had distanced myself from everyone else just to be the perfect wife for him. Now I realized how stupid that was. I had given up everything for a man who didn’t even value me.

When the sun came up the next morning, I found myself sitting on a hard bench in a small public park, shivering and hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything since the dinner I prepared for our anniversary—the dinner Ethan never even touched. Tears wanted to fall again, but I forced them back. Crying wouldn’t help me now. Crying wouldn’t give me a place to stay, or food to eat, or a way to start over. I had promised myself I would survive, and I meant it.

For the next few weeks, life became a struggle I never imagined I would have to face. I took any odd job I could find—washing dishes at small restaurants, cleaning offices late at night, selling flowers on the street under the hot sun or heavy rain. My hands became rough and calloused, my clothes got worn out, and I was always tired, always hungry, always walking on eggshells just to earn enough to buy a cheap meal or pay for a small, dirty bed in a crowded dormitory.

But the hardest part wasn’t the hunger or the exhaustion. It was the whispers and the judgment from everyone around me.

Ethan had started spreading his version of the story everywhere. He told our old neighbors, our former colleagues, every person we knew, that I was the one who had changed. That I had become demanding and ungrateful, that I left him suddenly for no reason, that I didn’t appreciate everything he did for me. He played the victim perfectly, acting heartbroken and betrayed, and people believed him. After all, he was the successful, hardworking man everyone liked, and I was just “his wife”—quiet, soft, someone people thought wouldn’t have a mind of her own.

Every time I walked past people I used to know, I heard them talking behind my back.

“Look at her, walking around like that. She really left a good husband like Ethan for nothing?”

“I heard she got too proud, thought she deserved more than what he gave her.”

“Poor Ethan. He did everything for her, and this is how she repays him?”

It hurt more than any physical pain. I wanted to scream, to tell them the truth—that Ethan was a cheater, that he had loved another woman while I gave him everything, that he called me ordinary and boring after all my sacrifices. But I knew no one would believe me. Ethan had all the money, all the status, all the charm to make people see only what he wanted them to see. I had nothing. Not even my own reputation anymore.

There were nights when I lay awake on my thin mattress, cold and alone, wondering if I had made a mistake. Should I have stayed? I thought sometimes. Should I have ignored it, pretended I didn’t know, just so I wouldn’t have to suffer like this? At least back then I had a roof over my head, enough food, a comfortable life.

But every time that thought came, I remembered the messages I read on his phone. I remembered how he looked at me with no love, no respect, like I was just a burden he had to carry. I remembered his voice saying “you are ordinary”, like all my years of love and sacrifice meant nothing at all.

And then I knew. I didn’t regret leaving. Even if I had nothing now, even if everyone judged me, even if life was so hard I wanted to give up sometimes… I still had my self-respect. I still had the knowledge that I didn’t lower myself to stay with someone who betrayed me. I was worth more than that.

I worked harder. I saved every single coin I earned, hiding it in a small pouch I kept close to my chest. I learned new skills, listened carefully to people who taught me things, and never complained even when my body ached so bad I could barely move. I refused to become bitter or mean, even though people were cruel to me. I was still Chesca Kyrene, and I would not let anyone—especially Ethan—break me completely.

One afternoon, I was walking back from selling flowers, carrying a heavy basket and soaked from the sudden rain, when I slipped on the wet pavement. I fell hard, and all the flowers scattered everywhere, ruined in the mud. I sat there, cold, wet, tired, and holding back tears, feeling like the whole world was against me.

I was about to stand up and pick everything up myself, just like I always did, when a shadow fell over me. An umbrella was held right above my head, shielding me from the rain.

“Are you hurt?” a deep, calm voice asked.

I looked up, and my breath caught. Standing there was a tall man with sharp but kind eyes, wearing a neat suit that looked expensive, looking down at me not with pity or disgust, but with genuine concern.

I had never seen him before, but something about him felt… different. Safe.

I wiped my face quickly, trying to stand up. “I-I’m fine, thank you. I just slipped.”

He bent down and started helping me pick up the ruined flowers, not caring that his nice clothes were getting dirty from the mud. “You work very hard,” he said softly, like he knew me. “I’ve seen you before, selling flowers early in the morning, or cleaning shops late at night. You never stop.”

I looked at him in surprise. “You… you know me?”

He smiled, a warm, gentle smile that made my heart beat a little faster. “Everyone who pays attention knows you, Chesca. You are the strongest person I have ever seen.”

He stood up and held out his hand to help me up properly. “I’m Damian. Damian Alistair. And I have a feeling… our meeting today is not just a coincidence.”

I took his hand, and for the first time since I left Ethan, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

I didn’t know it then, but meeting Damian was the moment my life started to change for the better. The moment I realized that leaving Ethan wasn’t the end of my story… it was just the beginning.