From Fairy Tale To Broken Dream

for mourning or for hiding. It was a performance, my final act in this twisted play. I wasn't dressing for Liam or fo

t my long brown hair, the hair that made me look so much like her, into a chic, sharp bob that framed my face. With bold red lipstick and a steady hand, I applied my makeu

is phone. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, a

hair," he said

a change," I

ks... professional. Perfect for tonight." He didn't say beautiful. He did

pensive perfume and the murmur of polite, powerful conversation. When we arrived, we were stopped a

I don' t see an Ava

me. My assistant," he said, his voice loud enough for those nearby to hear. The guard nodded and stepped aside,

She was radiant in a white gown, her arm linked through his, a proprietary smile on her face. They looked like a king

ooth and practiced. "She' s a brilliant architect and my new personal as

essmen smiled politely, their eyes glazing over me, their interest already gone. Chloe watched the excha

d, her voice like honey laced with poison. "Liam has

ece of chocolate cake in her hand. "Oh, Chloe, this cake is divine!" she gushed, and then, with a theatrical ga

ringing false. Laughter rippled through the small group around us

ut I didn't. I looked down at the smear of chocolate and frosting on my dress. It was a badge of their victory, a mark of my shame. I took a deep breath, coll

ckering friends and walked over to Liam. I didn't raise my voice. I did

aving now

" he hissed, grabbing my

ice. "It was a message. And I received it loud and clear. I' m done be

n my back. But for the first time in a long time, I didn't care what they thought. I walked out of that mansion