CHAPTER 2: Shadows of the Past

Starting tomorrow, I am returning to my old life—the one I abandoned three years ago, blindly and hopelessly in love with a man who didn't deserve me. My father gave me five years. It lasted three. Exceptionally difficult years filled with pressure, repeated pain, poor choices of my own based on my blind love for him, and irresponsible, frivolous, selfish choices on Adrian's part.

I had just graduated Magna cum Laude from the GSB (Stanford Graduate School of Business) at 18 years old when my father called me in to give me two options: either take my place in the leadership of the family empire—a position reserved for me since childhood once my extraordinary intellectual capacity was proven—or accept an arranged marriage with the future heir of the Moretti empire, a notorious playboy, a superficial young man living a life of easy pleasures and drinking without any responsibility, maintaining a lifestyle fueled by his parents' generational wealth.

But I chose a third path. I decided to take a sabbatical year, to run away from the heavy demands of my family with its massive genealogical tree, and from our financial empire spanning four continents.

I left with nothing. No bank card, no backup plan, simply thrown out.

Furious, my father gave me five years to pull myself together, on the strict condition that I left with nothing. I had to survive entirely on my own. And when I decided to return, I would have to comply unconditionally with whatever the family demanded at that moment, without opposition—irrevocably, with no right of veto. I accepted and left with 138 dollars in my pocket.

I boarded the first bus that arrived at the station where our family driver dropped me off. I got off at a large parking lot full of semi-trucks and various vehicles, walked into a fast-food joint, and approached the owner, begging her to give me a job. I offered to do any kind of work, just to be hired.

Maria was her name. A middle-aged woman, blonde, curvy, with blue eyes, a large mouth with full lips, and a talkative nature. Her voice was slightly baritone from smoking, with a generous bust and thick thighs; when she walked, she practically shook the ground. Imposing in voice and presence, yet, as I would later discover, possessing a heart of gold. Well-known by everyone locally and by travelers passing through.

Maria, the soul of gold, helped and supported anyone in need, asking for nothing in return. She just helped.

She had a mysterious partner. She never made a move without consulting him. Yet, no one ever saw him. No one knew who he was or what he looked like. He was a complete mystery.

She looked me up and down—at my designer clothes, jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket, sneakers... at my hands with short, clean nails—and stayed silent.

— Sweetheart, take a seat and wait while I talk to my colleague. Do you have a place to sleep? — No, I don't. But I can sleep on some sacks in the storage room if you'll let me. Just for a few nights, until I move. — How long do you plan to stay here? she asked. — I'm in no rush to go anywhere. I don't have a goal right now. Just to live. When I want to leave, I'll let you know.

I sat down for a while until she came back.

— What's your name? — Eva, my friends call me that. — All right, Eva, here is your apron, and you'll start with dishwashing. At the end of your shift, you'll clean up with your coworkers and then leave. You can sleep in the storage room for a week, but after that, you have to move out. There's a guesthouse 2 kilometers from here, and I've already booked a room for you that will become available in a week. Until then, stay here.

I wanted to cry with relief. It felt almost too easy. She introduced me to the kitchen staff, who smiled warmly at me, and I got to work.

From one perspective, it was a beautiful period. Not how I had envisioned my sabbatical year, but I had to face the consequences of my choice.

What I didn't know—and would only find out much later—was that I was being watched from two sides: first, by my deeply possessive father; and second, by a man I had rejected who refused to accept that rejection, opting for very discreet surveillance.

Time passed. I rented that room at the guesthouse near the diner, became friends with my coworkers—young, hardworking, cheerful people full of dreams. I helped Maria improve her computer skills and elevate the diner's service standards. In my free time, I also helped wait tables.

One day, a group of four young men sat at a table. Flush with cash, young, fresh-faced, handsome as gods, full of vitality, noisy... I helped serve them.

One young man with wavy brown hair, about 1.85 meters tall, green eyes, thick lips, a sharp jawline, athletic build—probably a former college team captain, around 26 years old—grabbed my hand and invited me out for a walk, amidst the laughter of his friends. That was the beginning of our relationship.

Adrian Smith, CEO of his parents' firm, Smith Inventions Corporation, handsome, fell head over heels in love with me. He was always there for me: tender, attentive, loving, promised me the moon, respected me, respected my boundaries, won me over... and proposed to me.

Maria pulled me aside and told me something felt off about this man. Her intuition told her to think twice.

Head over heels in love, I plunged into marriage the exact same way I had plunged into this relationship.

Immediately after our civil wedding, we went to his villa. At the entrance, I was greeted by an elderly woman, Mrs. Emilia, the head housekeeper, who looked at me coldly like an intruder and greeted me like a block of ice. She hugged Adrian warmly, making it clear she had been looking after him for a long time. I was led to the master bedroom without much explanation and left there.

Adrian showed up two hours later, claiming he had urgent business to attend to.

Starting that day, my life turned into a mechanical routine. There were moments when I wanted to tell my husband the truth about who I was, but right when I decided to, we were invited to dinner at his parents' house. Every Saturday we were invited over, where his entire family gathered, including his grandmother, Elizabeth.

I was received very coldly, treated like a pariah both by his parents, his sister Emily, and his younger brother Leon.

The main accusation: some random girl with no money, no education, no social standing, just a waitress...

Grandmother Elizabeth invited me to sit next to her and started chatting with me about various topics. Every time after dinner, the two of us would converse about all sorts of issues. She had a sharp mind, unclouded by age, and she read right through me from day one.

One day she pulled me aside into the rose-filled garden and said:

— Why don't you tell Adrian who you really are? Why don't you consider him good enough to know? — I will tell him when I feel it is necessary. For now, even if I tell him, he won't believe me. My father wouldn't accept him right now anyway.

One Saturday, fourteen months into our marriage, a blonde young woman around 24 years old appeared at the family dinner, wearing a tight yellow dress that ostentatiously flaunted her voluptuous breasts.

She was introduced to me as cousin Miriam and sat right in my seat next to Adrian, being warmly welcomed by the entire family. Old money from their social circle, speaking volumes louder than I ever could in front of them.

Grandmother Elizabeth pulled me close to her, talked with me the entire time, and didn't utter a single word to or about Miriam. Throughout the evening, Miriam completely ignored me, channeling all her attention toward Adrian, and he toward her, abandoning me to his grandmother.

Toward evening, when it was time to leave, Adrian invited Miriam to ride with him and helped her into the front passenger seat—my usual spot—leaving me to climb into the back seat all by myself.

— Miriam gets carsick and can't sit in the back, my husband told me and drove off. He dropped me off at home and then left with Miriam toward her house. He returned at 3:00 AM, reeking of heavy perfume and sweat, making my stomach turn when he leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head away and sent him to take a shower.

The following Saturday, while we were getting ready to leave, Miriam received an urgent phone call, and they left together, leaving me to catch a taxi on my own. Adrian arrived home at 6:00 AM, intoxicated, smelling of that same heavy perfume, with wrinkled clothes.

That day I demanded an explanation. He laughed and told me it was business he was conducting with family, as Miriam was the CEO of her parents' firm, so they worked together. He told me that I, a mere waitress and homemaker, couldn't possibly understand anything about business.

I swallowed hard and kept quiet. I loved him too much and genuinely wanted a family with him.

But Adrian didn't stop there. Next came his personal secretary, Nadia; a fiery Italian top model named Julia; a gorgeous Black influencer named Odette...

— I need variety, Evelyne. You haven't let me touch you in over a year. I am a man. I can't wait until you decide to return to my bed. If you come back, I promise I will be faithful! I swear!

And I returned to our shared bedroom, hoping he would keep his vow. Two months later, I found out I was pregnant after taking four pregnancy tests. I left happily to tell him, to show him the pregnancy test I had placed in a box along with a pair of tiny booties and a newborn onesie. When I pushed open the door to his office, his voluptuous secretary Clara was straddling him, kissing him passionately.

— It was a surprise. Not a huge one, but... a surprise.

I turned around and walked out. This time, I moved him into the guest bedroom. He became verbally abusive. Bored, exhausted, he would be gone for days on end. He told me he never wanted children, so I was on my own. I didn't love him anymore. I couldn't return home just yet, so I was waiting until I gave birth. But life takes all kinds of turns. I lost my child. And a piece of my soul, of my very being.

Now, I am going home. To the place where I am loved and cherished. I am returning, even though five years haven't passed.

I lived ten years' worth of life in just three. I will rise from the ashes like the Phoenix.