Chapter 2

I was too naive. Athena was forever out of reach, distant, radiant, and flawless. I was just an ugly stain no one bothered to wipe clean. Look at it long enough, and it only became more revolting.

My stomach cramped again, and I doubled over in pain, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.

I couldn't drag this out any longer.

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the divorce papers. My hand was steady, even steadier than I'd expected.

Then, bit by bit, I tore the cancer diagnosis into tiny pieces. The white scraps fluttered down like snow, scattering across the polished floor, as if I was sending off this absurd marriage for good.

I spent three years of my youth and even risked my life to learn this bloody lesson: being a desperate simp got me absolutely nothing in the end.

His first love was back.

Fine.

I was done and not wasting another second on him.

I dragged my suitcase behind me and took one last look at the villa I'd called home for three years.

It was nothing but a gilded cage. Every corner bore traces of my careful imitation of Athena, and now, it all looked like a mocking exhibition of my own self-delusion.

I didn't take a single thing Bruce had "given" me. The car keys, the bank cards, the jewelry box. Everything was neatly arranged on the living room coffee table. All I took were a few plain clothes I'd bought myself.

I was leaving with nothing, just to make a clean break.

The door clicked shut behind me, cutting off everything from my past in one final snap.

My phone buzzed in my bag. Bruce's name flashed on the screen.

I hit decline.

He called again. I hit decline again.

Third time, I just blocked him. Quick, clean, no hesitation. Honestly, my heart felt nothing. So this was what it felt like to be completely dead inside.

WhatsApp started blowing up with his messages.

[Mona, where are you?] [Did you sign the papers? Don't try anything funny.] [Get Athena's stuff ready. She's staying with us for now.] [Pick up the phone!]

Even now, all he cared about was making sure Athena had a place to stay, like I was nothing more than his housekeeper, expected to clear out and make the bed for his precious first love.

I let out a bitter smile, tapped his profile picture, and hit "Remove from contacts." The confirmation popped up: "Deleting will end your friendship."

My finger paused for a second, then tapped.

Just like that, the world felt peaceful.

I hailed a cab and headed straight for the train station. My destination was a small coastal town down south, someplace I'd never heard of before, just a tiny dot on the map.

I'd stumbled across it online, and the pictures showed vast stretches of blue sea and quiet, old streets.

I needed a place to quietly rot away, or maybe, just maybe, try to fight back.

I spent the whole afternoon sitting on a bench near the hospital, gripping the copy of my diagnosis I'd hidden away. The salty sea breeze made the air feel cold.

An unshaven guy in a worn-out jacket sat down next to me, lit up a cigarette, and without even looking my way, suddenly said, "Miss, your eyes look empty. Got something weighing on you?"

I didn't say anything.

He blew out a smoke ring. "This place is nice, you know. Not much drama. Living here, every day feels like two half-days. That's a win in my book."

I turned my face toward him.

He grinned, flashing his smoke-yellowed teeth. "Me? Liver cancer, three years now. Docs said I'd be lucky to last six months. But here I am, still watching the sea, still smoking, still chatting up pretty girls. Guess I hit the jackpot, huh?"

I was stunned for a moment, and for the first time in forever, I let out a real, soft smile.

Yeah, every day really did feel like two half-days.

Why should I have to die quietly, trapped in the shadow left behind by a man who never even loved me?

I pulled out my phone and deactivated my Instagram and WhatsApp accounts, ones I'd used for years. Every post was carefully shared, set so only Bruce could see them, like a pathetic one-woman show.

Then, I started over, registering everything from scratch.

My new username was "Mona's Here."

I swapped in a new profile pic, me by the sea, laughing without a care, my short hair wild in the wind. Yeah, I'd finally cut off the long, straight hair I'd kept for three years just to imitate Athena for Bruce. Now it was a sharp, shoulder-length bob.

Screw being Athena's understudy. From that moment on, I was just Mona Funk.

I found a cheap short-term apartment, and when I opened the window, the sea was right there. I picked up some basic streaming gear, so my backdrop was just that endless blue ocean.

For my first live stream, I went on camera bare-faced, wearing a loose T-shirt. "Hey guys, I'm Mona's Here. Today, I want to talk about how to get out of a crappy relationship, and maybe, just maybe, figure out how to really live."

My voice was a bit rough, but calm.

Only a dozen or so people wandered into the stream. Someone commented: [Did the streamer just get dumped? You seem kinda down.]