Before I Lost Myself

Prologue

The sky is blindingly bright tonight. An ocean of stars stretches above me, they are more brilliant than I’ve ever seen. It’s ironic, really. I’ve lived a life of luxury and excess, with elegant trips, designer clothes and first-class everything. I never had to lift a finger. There was always someone to handle things, for me or instead of me.

And yet, I never once took the time to simply lie back and look at the stars. Now, I have no time left to do so.

I can feel the energy draining from my body. I’m sprawled on the pavement, my bones shattered and though I no longer feel the pain. I know these are the final moments of my life. And it hurts not are the injuries, but the truth. The cruel, bitter truth that I’m dying as a fool, betrayed by my husband, my best friend, and the people I trusted most.

If only I could go back, there’s so much I would do differently. So much I would fix.

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It all began that morning, July 1st, 2025.

Something inside me whispered that the day would end in disaster. My phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Barely awake, I dragged myself out of my lavish bed and glanced at the caller ID.

Jeremy, he is my cousin.

The one person who never hesitated to tell me the truth, even when it hurt. Annoying as hell, always reminding me the world didn’t revolve around me, but I owed him my life. When I was little, he saved me. That’s the only reason I kept him close.

- “Jeremy, do you have any idea what time it is?” I groaned.

- “Marilyn, did you see the photos I sent you?” he asked urgently.

- “What photos? I just want to sleep,” I snapped, irritated.

- “They're of Gregory with Katherine, your best friend.”

My heart skipped a beat. And I say for me "No, no, no".

I opened my phone and saw them. There are my husband, the only man I’d ever loved. He is holding hands and kissing Katherine, walking into a hotel room.

Our hotel room. The same one where we spent our honeymoon.

I couldn’t breathe, and just I couldn’t think. There had to be an explanation, there had to be. My mind refused to believe it. But Jeremy’s voice pulled me back to reality.

— “I’m flying out right now,” I said, trembling. “Can you keep me updated?”

— “Are you sure you can handle this?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

— “I’m Marilyn Thompson,” I said coldly. “They’re about to learn exactly what that means.”

I booked the next flight to Ibiza. I didn’t even know what I was going to do. I threw on the first clothes I found, not bothering with hair or makeup. The fashion icon in me was gone, only a pair of oversized sunglasses hid my swollen eyes.

At the airport, I received emails I barely understood; about mentions of stock reductions, asset shifts and terms I never cared to read with seriously. Gregory and our partners always handled my investments. Now I realized how foolish I had been.

When I arrived in Ibiza, I booked a room in the same hotel. Jeremy met me in the lobby. He’d come along with a friend, Liam Montgomery, who was conducting business nearby but had twisted his ankle and stayed at the hotel. That’s how Jeremy saw it all.

I paid an obscene amount to get into Gregory’s room before they returned. Hours passed. Then, I heard the door.

They entered, laughing. And then the clothes flew. Moans followed. I hid in the closet, frozen, paralyzed. My best friend and my husband on the bed.

And then came the words.

— “With Marilyn, you’ll never feel what you do with me,” Katherine moaned.

— “Don’t mention that idiot. I married her for the inheritance. Now shut up and keep going,” Gregory growled.

That was it.

I exploded from the closet, hurling everything in sight. Gregory froze. Katherine screamed and grabbed the sheets, but I wasn’t about to let her hide. With strength that I didn’t know I had, I dragged her out of the room by her fire-red hair, naked, for the whole hotel to see.

— “Open the door, Gregory!” Katherine shrieked from the hall.

— “If you touch that handle,” I said, venom in every word, “you won’t just lose my money,I’ll take everything you own.”

She kept banging. Guests stared. Her body was marked by their “passion,” a disgusting display of betrayal and lust.

Inside, I threatened Gregory with a broken shard of glass, my eyes soaked with tears.

And then, he laughed.

— “You don’t have the guts,” he said. “You’ve never done anything on your own. All that money, all those schools, but you’re still a spoiled little girl who knows how to spend but not think. I married you for the deal. For your family’s influence. And let’s face it, after the first few nights, you were useless in bed too. Like everything else in your life.”

He pinned me against the wall, still naked, still reeking of her.

— “Go home, sweetheart. I control your money. I can ruin your parents. You need me to keep your perfect little life intact,” he hissed.

I shoved him away.

I don’t remember what I screamed, something like “I don’t care if everything burns,” or “never touch me again.” I opened the door, looked at Katherine, and said only this:

— “That’s what homewrecking whores deserve.”

And I left.

Later, I ran. I don’t remember how it happened exactly. Just the headlights. The screech of tires. The sound of my own body smashing against the asphalt. I saw their faces inside the car, Gregory and Katherine.

They didn’t stop. They left me there, broken and bleeding on cold pavement. I am alone.

Now, the stars are fading. So is my vision. So is everything. Jeremy is dead. He died trying to protect me. Those bastards will get away with it all.

How unjust. How unbearably unjust. Darkness swallows everything.

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Until

A warm light. A familiar voice.

— “Miss, it’s late. Your parents will be upset if you’re late for the meeting with the Smith family. Wake up now,” says my nanny, July.

I open my eyes. I’m in my childhood bedroom.

I sit up. My body is uninjured. My hair is styled the way I wore it five years ago. I check the phone. My old phone.

January 7, 2020.

The day I got engaged to Gregory. I run outside to the garden, heart pounding.

There she is "Cookie". My dog. The one who died on my honeymoon.