A Billionaire's Boredom, A Wife's Rise

Dunl

strangers sharing a house. The air was thick with unspoken words, a

king late," he'd text. "Dinner with a client." "Te

g for him. I sto

ind stacks of designer luggage we never used, I found them. Box after box of brand-new, high-end kitchenware. A stand mix

ife together. Seeing them now, gathering dust, felt like looking at a museum of my forgotten self. Each box was a tombst

s woman whose entire world revolved around a

his eyes shining with what I thought was love. "You should quit that stre

"Atticus has a delicate stomach," she'd warned, her eyes scanning my simple dress with disdain.

middle-class background was a constant source of quiet scorn among their circle. So I

te visits, my dream of designing b

ts ironed. I managed a staff of ten with quiet efficiency. I planned his dinner partie

ingle, dismissive comment from his new favorite

I was supposedly good for, wa

de me. A quiet, defin

donate it. I dragged every single box out to the curb and l

thes I hadn't allowed myself to buy in years. Sleek, tailored

"natural" look his mother approved of, but a bold red lip and a sharp, winged eyeliner. I took selfi

tfolio. I posted a picture of myself, smiling, wearing a vibrant yellow dress, the city skyline

projects. The passion I thought was dead was merely dormant. It came rushing bac

cared if h

cared who

he would finally get

by piece, until all that was left was a ghost in