THE BEGINNING
Valerie's POV
"Be a changed woman, Valerie Herman.”
I waved off the female warden’s voice as I stepped out of the prison gates, blinking in the bright sunlight. I don't know what day it was, I just knew I was free, and it made me happy.
It feels good to be finally out. It felt like I had wasted my whole life in prison. On a more reasonable note, I had. Eight years of confinement had not prepared me for the vast expanse of freedom that stretched before me. I was free and the feeling was surreal.
I am twenty nine now. I felt old.
I had come here when I still had my whole life in front of me, when I had just left college and all I wanted was to fit into all those wedding dresses that one would find in expensive boutiques or even have a famous seamstress sew it up. I wanted to walk down the aisle with my hair down and my make up done nicely by one of the best make up artist in town. That was what I wanted; all I wanted.
“I want to get married soon.” I told myself with a sad smile knowing it would happen soon.
I scanned the crowd, expecting to see familiar faces, but there was no one. No family members, no friends, no boyfriend. I felt a pang of disappointment and betrayal.
I do have a boyfriend. Eight years ago, I had planned my life with someone that I knew was the right one. But now, I don't feel that was right anymore.
I had sent texts to my boyfriend, Simon, two months before my release, eager to reconnect and start anew. But he hadn't responded. Not a single word. I had tried to brush it off, thinking he was busy. He should be busy because he always checked up on me – except that he hadn't done that for a year now.
I could go see him. He should still be in the house we shared together.
That was my only investment – the house and a large amount of money I entrusted in Simon's hands which I knew he would have turned it into something so great. No woman would have trusted him to do that, but I did. I gave him a lot and I knew he would hand it back to me.
I saw a cab and hauled it down. I immediately settled in and the scent of stale cigarettes and worn leather enveloped me. The driver, a gruff-looking man with a scruffy beard, eyed me in the rearview mirror. "Where to, miss?"
I hesitated, unsure of the place I live. The prison had given me a few bucks, enough to get me home. "Just drive," I said finally. "I'll let you know when to stop."
The driver nodded, his eyes lingering on me before returning to the road. We drove in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the hum of the engine and the soft crackle of the radio.
“So, what brings you out today?" The driver's tone was friendly, genuinely curious.
I shrugged, unsure how much to reveal. But something about his warm smile put me at ease. "I just got out of prison," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
The driver's expression changed in an instant, like, he looked at the rearview mirror and his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and he turned back to the road without a word.
I scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. What was it that I said wrong? "Figures," I muttered and shook my head, the familiar sting of rejection settling in. I just left prison and I was already humiliated. What more would my own family members do to me?
The driver's eyes flicked to the mirror again, his expression unreadable. But I knew what he saw - an ex-con, a felon, a person to be feared and avoided.
Maybe that was what I truly was – I ought to be feared because I had committed the most heinous crime and the worst was that, I cannot remember the details.
I sighed and closed my eyes. We drove for a few more minutes, the silence between us growing thicker. Finally, I opened my eyes and spotted my street then I tapped on the glass. "Stop here."
The driver pulled over, his movements curt. I handed him the fare, our fingers touching briefly. “Thank you.” I told him. At least, I still had my manners.
As I stepped into the street, I felt a sense of unease wash over me. The world was a vast, unforgiving place, and I was just a small, insignificant part of it. I took a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs and began to walk down the street.
Things change. Eight years did wonders to this little town I had found worthy of being the place where I would raise my kids and love my husband happily ever after.
I got to the front of the house I got with my own money. There was no need to describe it. It was the best. I pushed open the creaky door. I had been away for so long, and I couldn't wait to see Simon, to feel his arms around me again. But as I stepped inside, I was met with an eerie silence. I called out, "Simon! I'm home!"
But there was no response. I moved further into the house, my eyes scanning the small space. The kitchen was spotless, the dining table empty. But then, I heard it. A low, guttural moan, followed by a faint whisper of pleasure.
“Simon?”
My heart sank, my stomach twisting into knots. I knew that sound, knew it all too well. I followed the sound to our bedroom, my legs trembling beneath me. I pushed open the door, and my world shattered.
Simon lay in bed, his arms wrapped around another woman. Her long, Auburn hair cascaded down her back like a river of gold, and her skin was a radiant, porcelain doll-like complexion. She moaned again, her eyes closed in ecstasy, as Simon thrust into her.
“Simon!”
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, my breath knocked out of me. I stood there, frozen, as the scene unfolded before me. Simon's eyes flickered open, and he saw me, saw the shock and horror etched on my face.
“Valerie? F*ck, how did you get here?”
I was dumbfounded. How did I get into MY home?
Immediately, Simon sprang into action, scrambling to untangle himself from the woman's limbs. "Valerie, get out.” He said.
I was shocked. Get out? “What did you say?”
“Get the hell out of here.” And before my very own eyes, he was pushing me out of the house I got by myself. When we got to the front door, he dropped the bombshell.
I stood there, frozen in shock, as his words cut through me like a knife. "Get the hell out, Valerie," he sneered, his eyes cold and detached. "You're not needed anymore."
“What are you talking about?" I stammered, trying to process what was happening. “I found you in bed with another woman and you're telling me to get out? Simon!”
Simon's expression twisted in disgust. "I've moved on, Valerie. I don't need you anymore. You've been gone for eight years, and I've found someone else. Someone better. And you have nothing else here again. This house, I sold it.”
That knocked me off my senses but as if that wasn't enough, Simon continued. “And your money, I invested in and well, it's gone.”
“Just like that?” I asked him.
“Just like that. Valerie, things got hard and I needed the money. I'm sorry actually. But you can't do anything. You're homeless, have no money so you can't sue me even if you want to.”
I watched him say all of these things and it felt like I was watching a movie but d*mn, this was reality and it was happening to me.
“Leave now. I'll get back to you if I can.” And that was it. He shut the door on my face – just like that!
I did leave – just like that. But I knew I couldn't go home. Not now. I felt like sh*t and my family hates me. Everyone saw me as a murderer, so they distanced themselves. Right now, I could just walk for all I care.
What will a woman do if she finds her man in bed with another woman and he's wasted all she ever worked for?
Maybe… kill herself.