Confidence pov
I've always believed dreams were free.
That must be why I dream so much.
Real estate… luxury buildings… my own office with my name in bold gold letters.
People coming to me for decisions.
People respecting me.
Me walking in heels that actually click on marble floors instead of the greasy tiles in the diner where I serve pancakes every day.
And in my dreams, there's always a man—tall, fine, commanding.
A man I could flirt with in the office, share secrets with, fight with, kiss in the break room…
I sigh and blink my eyes open.
And of course—
I've passed my bus stop again.
"Confidence, you're doing it again," I whisper to myself as I pull the stop bell.
My dream life is always better than my real one.
But reality has Linda, my troublesome sweetheart of a younger sister… and the lie she built like a house made of cards.
A rich wedding.
A wealthy groom.
A fantasy life.
All based on lies.
Especially the biggest one:
That her sister—me—is a high-paid London lawyer earning £150,000 a year.
When she told me not to attend the wedding, my heart cracked. But she cried, begged, and handed me flight tickets.
"Just travel during the wedding," she said.
"Please, Confi… don't ruin this for me."
And like a fool in love with her sister, I agreed.
So here I am—packing my only suitcase, holding a flight ticket I didn't ask for, running away so her lies can live a little longer.
I love her.
But God… it hurts.
When the plane takes off, I lean my head on the window and whisper,
"Maybe London will give me something too…"
I don't know what exactly.
But I know I'm tired of dreaming small.
London was supposed to be a fresh start—
a place where nobody knew me,
nobody judged me,
nobody remembered who I used to be.
But the universe has a good sense of humor.
Because the moment I step out of the airport, my eyes land on a giant digital billboard… and my heart almost stops.
There he is.
My ex-husband.
His name bold across the screen, his smile perfect, his suit flawless.
"Ethan Cole — One of the Leading Giants of the Global Real Estate Market."
My stomach drops.
Of course.
Of course life would throw him back in my face the moment I try to run from everything.
I remember everything at once—
the way he insulted my clothes,
the way he sneered at my dreams,
the way he started rising in his career and suddenly I wasn't "good enough" to stand beside him.
"Your clothes are embarrassing."
"Try to look like a person, Confidence."
"I can't walk beside someone who looks like this."
And then he left.
Just like that.
Upgraded his life and deleted me from it.
My fingers shake as I pull my cardigan tighter—the same stupid cardigan he used to mock.
"Nice." I whisper to myself. "Very nice. First day in London and humiliation already found me."
I don't have money to eat what I want.
I don't even have confidence to breathe without remembering him.
So I go to the beach to clear my head.
I shouldn't have.
Because fate is bored today.
When I'm walking along the shore, pretending to enjoy myself, someone shouts my name.
"CONFIDENCE?! Oh my God! Confidence is that you?!"
I freeze.
It's Ruth.
My old high school classmate.
Still loud.
Still pretty.
Still the type that dresses like life is a runway.
"Oh my God, girl!" She hugs me like we used to be best friends. "You look… um… you look like you've been busy!"
Busy?
Yeah. Busy being broke. Busy being heartbroken.
"Did you come alone?" she asks brightly.
My pride kicks in so fast I almost choke on it.
"No," I lie smoothly. "My… um… boyfriend. He went to get us food."
Ruth's eyes light up.
"Oooooh, you have a man? Perfect! Come, meet mine!"
I smile stiffly and follow her.
And then I look up to greet the boyfriend.
And my world stops.
No.
No no no no—
It can't be.
But it is.
Ethan.
My ex-husband.
Standing there, perfectly dressed, perfectly arrogant, perfectly smug.
His eyes drop to my cardigan—the same one he used to call "charity-shop embarrassment"—
and a slow smirk curls on his lips.
That smirk.
That evil, proud, judgmental smirk.
"Confidence," he says smoothly, like he's tasting the humiliation on my skin. "Still wearing that old thing?"
Ruth gasps. "Oh! You two know each oth—"
"I was her mistake," Ethan cuts in, cool and sharp. "A long time ago."
My breath leaves me.
My body burns.
My vision blurs.
The humiliation hits me like a slap across the soul.
"I—excuse me," I whisper, and stumble away before my tears betray me.
I don't stop walking.
I don't stop breathing fast.
I don't stop shaking.
I walk straight into a beach bar.
And I drink.
One shot.
Two.
Three.
The more I think about how he rejected me…
the more I think about how I lied just to avoid looking like a loser…
the more I see that smirk…
that look of triumph on his face…
…the more I drink.
Because tonight, I refuse to feel anything.
Not pain.
Not shame.
Not regret.
Just numbness.
And maybe London's lights will blur enough to let me forget that I am still the girl he threw away.