The Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Cuts

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Alison's POV.

I knew that I couldn't remain cooped up in my apartment for the rest of my life. Whether Luke was at the restaurant or not it did not matter to me. I had to start somewhere.

I should've known not to rely on someone so heavily. Everyone always left.

My mother. My father still tethered on the brink of leaving. Blake. And now Luke.

I had always been thrown to the side all my life. After the death of my mother, my father seemed slightly reluctant to intercact with me. I never did a stand a chance with anyone, it was sad that it was true. I had been the victim too many times and I was sick of it.

Even in primary school, many friends had left without a glance backwards after catching on with the sniggering rumours of the weird kid who has no mum that floated gauntly at the school's entrance as if ready to pounce on incoming prey. New students had always been the easiest. They were so foreign to the state of the hell hole, that they were always targeted the moment their polished, black shoe touched the scruffy concrete that had begun to show serious signs of ageing with its long arms that cracked deep into the once-smooth surface. No friend has ever lasted two days with me. The Avengers as they called themselves would quickly swoop down, clamping their claws deep into their oblivious minds.

I was sick of being used to other people's advantages. I wasn't the brand new dish cloth they had bought from the shop down the street, and after countless uses. After the blue tint had began to wear off and a dirty brown was beginning to emerge. After the magic had worn off they would toss me to the side.

I had thought I had successfully build myself indestructible but I was wrong. There was still flaws in my walls. I had spent the entire weekend patching up every hole and I would make sure that no one would come through them, even if I had to go through life, friendless.

A mournful sigh left my lips and I blinked rapidly, desperate to disperse the nearing tears that were beginning to merge as I dug through my past memories. Nearby, Clover whined seeing my tear stricken face, padding over and licking me in attempt to make me smile. I grinned feebly and a huge grin crept up her face as if proud of herself for succeeding in her vital mission.

Blake.

I wasn't sure why I had stumbled across him at that moment, but I did. Somehow my brain had decided that it was a good time to discuss everything that was happening about him.

I remember that for countless mornings, nights and days, I would lay on my bed, my eyes wide open and mind buzzing. Blake would be at work, and I would be at home, boredom engulfing my whole being. I was sure I had played every game possible in history with my trusty partner, the wall. After becoming easily exasperated with the lack of communication from the slab of grey, I had moved on mingling mindlessly with other activities. I had taught myself how to cook those days but that too had lost its spark after many months. So as a final reach for an escape out of the world of nothing, I had rung up my father, begging to be able to apply to a job. Already being in a foul mode that day he had roared at me for such thoughts, claiming that I was much to high-class to be working, with such a humble husband already doing so. The irony, really.