THE BILLIONAIRE'S PROXY WIFE

The rain is pouring against my skin. I press my back into the cold brick wall of a storefront, my hands shaking so badly I can barely hold my phone. The screen lights up, reflecting my face in the dark glass. The exact same face that ruined my life. Please… I whispered. Please don't do this to me. My thumb taps the bank app. I stare at the screen, waiting, my lips quivering. . Account Balance: $0.00. Status: Restricted by Primary Account Holder. The air leaves my lungs in a sharp gasp. I press redial. I listen to the ring. Again and again. While listening to it, my world starts to crumble. No… I muttered. This can’t be happening! Then the cold, robotic voicemail cuts in. I drop my hand. That is the fiftieth time I’ve called. She blocked me. She took everything and vanished. A sob catches in my throat, and I press a hand over my mouth to stop it. Just hours ago, I was sitting in a warm mansion. I was wearing a gorgeous dress. I had a mother-in-law who held my hand and smiled at me like I was her own daughter. I had a room in the quiet countryside, and a husband whose dark eyes had finally stopped looking at me with anger. A tear slips down my cheek, hot against the cold rain. I can still feel the sting of the slap on my face. I can still hear the way he yelled at me to get out and how their eyes were full of pure hatred. They think I'm a monster. They think I did it for the money. Maybe I do. I did it for the money. I understand them. I should understand them. Now, I am back to being nobody. Just back to being Alexia Amelie Windsor. An eighteen-year-old girl standing on a wet street corner with one cheap suitcase and no money. I looked at my bare wet finger. My tears started to linger again. You were just playing a part, Alexia, I tell myself, my jaw trembling. You were paid to wear her face. This feeling isn't necessary at all. The girl who begged me on her knees to do this, just wiped out my account, used me like a doll. She got exactly what she wanted, and then she threw me away in the dirt. I wipe my eyes, but the rain just washes over my face again. I grip the handle of my suitcase. My knuckles turn white. I look down the dark, empty street. I have to walk. I have to survive. I will never say his name again. I will never look back at that family. But as I took my first step, I suddenly felt dizzy. And everything went black.