Episode3
1819 Words
The first month was hell.
I'd love to say I bounced back right away, that I woke up every morning ready to conquer the world. But that would be a lie.
Most days, I barely got out of bed.
Mia's guest room became my cave. I'd lie there staring at the ceiling, replaying that night over and over. Alex's hands on her. Sophia's laugh. The way they'd jumped apart like guilty teenagers. Every memory of our marriage got poisoned. Our first kiss. Our honeymoon in Tuscany. The way he used to trace my back when we fell asleep. All of it felt fake now.
I stopped eating much. Lost ten pounds in two weeks. My design work? I stared at blank sketches for hours, then cried because nothing came out right.
Mia tried everything dragging me to yoga, forcing smoothies down my throat, blasting empowering playlists. But some nights, I'd just sit on her balcony with a glass of wine, watching the city and wondering how my life had turned into this.
One night, about five weeks after I left, it hit rock bottom.
I was scrolling through old photos on my laptop stupid, I know when I landed on one from last year's Christmas party. Alex had his arm around me, smiling at the camera. Sophia was on my other side, holding a champagne glass, grinning like she didn't have a care in the world.
I zoomed in on her face.
How long had she been lying to me? How many times had she hugged me while sleeping with my husband? All those girls' nights, all the advice she gave me about my marriage had it all been a game?
I threw the laptop across the room. It hit the wall with a c***k. Then I slid down to the floor and cried until my throat burned.
Mia found me there at 2 a.m.
"Okay," she said, sitting beside me. "That's enough."
I looked at her through swollen eyes. "I can't do this, Mia. I can't breathe."
"You can," she said firmly. "And you will. But not like this. Tomorrow, we're making changes."
She didn't wait for me to agree.
The next morning, she booked me an appointment with a therapist. Then she dragged me to a salon—new haircut, color, the works. I walked out with dark auburn highlights and layers that framed my face differently. I didn't recognize myself in the mirror, and for the first time, that felt good.
We went shopping after. Not the sad kind just simple things. New workout clothes. A few dresses that actually fit my new, thinner frame. Nothing crazy. But it was a start.
That night, I opened my design software again. No client work. Just for me. I started sketching a mood board—modern, bold, a little angry. Deep reds, sharp lines, gold accents. It felt... cathartic.
A week later, I landed my first real client since the split.
A tech startup needed a full office redesign. The CEO a woman named Lauren—had heard about me through a mutual contact. She didn't know about the divorce drama, and I didn't tell her. The meeting went great. She loved my ideas. Signed the contract on the spot.
For the first time in weeks, I felt something other than pain.
Hope.
It was small. Fragile. But it was there.
Alex kept trying to reach me. Flowers showed up at Mia's apartment huge bouquets with notes I threw away unread. He emailed. Called from new numbers I blocked. Once, he even showed up at the building lobby. Security turned him away.
I heard through the grapevine he'd fired Sophia. That she'd left the city. Good. I didn't care.
Ruth, my lawyer, said the divorce was moving fast. No kids, no prenup clean split. I'd get half the assets, including part of the penthouse sale if he sold it. I didn't want his money, but I wasn't stupid enough to say no.
One evening, about three months after that night, I stood in front of Mia's full-length mirror.
The woman looking back wasn't the same Bella who'd worn that anniversary dress.
Sharper cheekbones. Eyes that didn't look quite so broken. Hair that swung when I moved. A body toned from daily runs I'd started to clear my head.
I was still healing. Still had bad days. Still woke up some mornings reaching for a warm body that wasn't there.
But I was standing.
And for now, that was enough.
Little did I know, the universe wasn't done testing me.
Because in just a few weeks, I'd walk into a gala for Lauren's company launch... and come face-to-face with the man who'd shattered my world.
Only this time, I wouldn't be the one breaking.
Six months. That's how long it had been since I walked out of Alex's office and never looked back.
Six months of rebuilding myself from the ground up.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my new apartment a cozy one-bedroom in a trendy downtown neighborhood I'd rented with my own money. No penthouse views anymore, but the exposed brick walls, big windows, and hardwood floors felt like mine. Really mine.
The woman staring back at me barely resembled the old Bella.
My hair was shorter now, a sleek auburn bob that grazed my shoulders and caught the light in warm waves. I'd hit the gym hard—yoga five days a week, weights three times, long runs along the river when I needed to think. My body was toned, stronger, curves in all the right places. The soft, trusting roundness in my face had sharpened into something confident. Fierce, even.
And tonight? Tonight I was dressing to kill.
Lauren's tech startup was launching its new app at a huge gala downtown one of those black-tie events full of investors, press, and the city's elite. As the lead designer who'd turned their bland offices into a creative powerhouse, I'd been personally invited. My name was on the VIP list. My work was featured in the program.
I slipped into the dress I'd bought on a whim last week: deep emerald green silk that hugged every curve, off-the-shoulder neckline, slit up one leg just high enough to turn heads. Paired with strappy black heels and minimal gold jewelry no diamonds tonight. I didn't need reminders.
Mia whistled when I walked into the living room for her approval. "Damn, girl. You look like revenge served hot."
I laughed actually laughed and it felt good. "That's the goal."
The venue was packed when I arrived. Crystal chandeliers, champagne flowing, photographers snapping red-carpet shots outside. I handed my coat to the checker, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
Heads turned. I felt it immediately. Whispers followed me as I made my way through the crowd colleagues I hadn't seen in months, old clients, new ones who'd only heard my name. Everyone smiling, complimenting the dress, asking about my latest projects.
For the first time in forever, I felt powerful. Seen. Not as Alexander Knight's wife. Just as Bella Rossi talented, successful, unbreakable.
Lauren found me near the bar, pulling me into a hug. "You're a vision! The offices have been getting so much buzz investors keep mentioning the design. You're killing it."
"Thanks to you believing in me," I said, clinking my glass against hers.
We chatted about the app launch, future expansions. My business was growing fast three new corporate clients this month alone. I'd even started thinking about hiring an assistant.
That's when I felt it. That prickling on the back of my neck. Like someone was watching me.
I turned slowly, scanning the room.
And there he was.
Alex.
Across the crowded ballroom, standing near a group of investors in a perfectly tailored black tux. Drink in hand. Eyes locked on me.
He looked... different. Thinner. Tired shadows under his eyes. Hair a little longer than he used to keep it. The confident CEO swagger was still there, but something was off. Dimmed.
Our eyes met.
For a second, the noise of the gala faded. Just him and me, six months of silence stretching between us like a canyon.
His expression changed shock, then something raw. Regret? Longing? I couldn't tell. Didn't want to.
He took a step forward, like he might cross the room.
I turned away first.
Heart pounding, I excused myself from Lauren and headed toward the balcony doors. Needed air. Needed space.
The cool night breeze hit my face as I stepped outside. The city sparkled below same view I used to have from our penthouse. But I wasn't thinking about that.
I was thinking about how far I'd come.
Footsteps behind me. Familiar ones.
"Bella."
His voice. Low, rough. Like he hadn't slept.
I didn't turn around. "You shouldn't be talking to me."
"I know." A pause. "But I saw you walk in and... God, Bella. You look incredible."
I spun then, anger flaring. "Don't. Don't do this here."
He held up his hands. "I'm not trying to start anything. I just... I needed to say I'm sorry. In person. I've wanted to for months."
I laughed bitterly. "You've had six months, Alex. You could've said it when I filed. Or when I moved out. Or any of the hundred times you sent flowers I threw away."
"I know. I was giving you space. I thought " He stopped, ran a hand through his hair. "I thought if I stayed away, you'd heal faster. That you'd be better off without me dragging you down."
"Well, congratulations. I am better off."
He flinched. "I can see that. You're... thriving. I'm proud of you."
"Don't you dare be proud of me," I snapped. "I did this despite you. Not because of you."
Silence stretched between us. He looked like he wanted to reach for me but knew better.
"I fired Sophia the next day," he said quietly. "She's gone. Out of the company, out of the city. I haven't spoken to her since."
"I don't care."
"I started therapy. Weekly. Trying to figure out why I threw away the best thing in my life for... nothing."
I crossed my arms, fighting the lump in my throat. "Good for you."
"Bella..." His voice cracked. "I miss you. Every day. The penthouse is empty. I can't sleep in our bed. I—"
"Stop." I stepped back. "You don't get to miss me. You lost that right the moment you chose her."
He looked wrecked. Absolutely wrecked.
But I wasn't the one who'd broken us.
I turned to go back inside.
"Please," he whispered. "Just... tell me there's a chance. Someday."
I paused at the door, didn't look back.
"No, Alex. There isn't."
And for the first time, I actually believed it.
As I walked away, head high, dress swishing against my legs, I felt something shift inside me.
Not forgiveness.
Freedom
- Writer
