How are you supposed to just start over? Is there just a refresh button you press which magically erases the past allowing you to move forward? Or do you ask for three wishes granted by a genie? Like how can I just accept the past and move forward? I'm divorced, I'm no longer interested pursuing things with Shane and I've quite possibly eradicated my career from publishing a hopeless love affair based off my own happenings. How do people do it? Especially those who genuinely can go numb and act as if everything is peachy? For the past two weeks, I've been up, memories and thoughts clattering my mind, forcing me to stay awake. Every time I close my eyes it feels like a huge weight is sat on my chest, suffocating me slowly. And now today has come.

The person stood before me in the vanity mirror is a stranger. Dark bags under her eyes, a lost look embracing her face and not an ounce of hope left. She's completely gone. Yet, she has to pretend everything is okay. I'm dreading it. I'm not sure I can go through with it. My dependence on Nick was more than apparent. I couldn't even go to my own book signing without him. The man who loved me, supported me and would chase the stars for me was absent from this important day. He would be there. Stood right behind me, reassuring me, softly squeezing my shoulders, gently kissing my neck and looking at my reflection through the mirror. I can hear him muttering terms of endearments.

"You've got this babe. You're incredible. I'm so proud of you," I hear him say.

Nothing but a fragmented memory. There's no one stood behind me. It's just me, alone, in my bedroom, wondering who on earth that person is staring right back at them. A stranger. Nothing but a stranger.

I miss his reassurance. I depended on it and without, I'm not sure I can go through with this. He's always been there. And what if no one turns up. What if my audience are offended, disgusted I could write a horrible affair that tears apart a couple, from a selfish mistake? How am I going to do this?

It must have taken me an extra twenty minutes to eat. The coffee was cold by the time I had went to take a swig. I can't really recall when I had last properly eaten. Most nights I had survived on soup, a crumb of bread or one bite of chicken refusing to feed myself with constant guilt ringing in the back of my mind. I think I'm doing it deliberately, starving myself to teach myself a lesson. As after-all, I don't deserve redemption, I don't deserve a second chance at happiness. I've destroyed Nick's, Angie's and even Shane's. I'm a horrible human being.

Now I sit at a wooden table, my published books stacked aside me, a black pen in front of me and a glass of water to the left of me, wondering how on earth I'm going to get through this. There's no getting out of this. There's a line of people stood up out the front waiting eagerly. My credentials on a poster in the bookstore window revealing my debut and my agent, Peter, briefing the security guard and bookstore manager on final details before the event officially starts. I'm clicking the pen anxiously, bouncing my knees and shuffling about in my chair. Nick's nowhere to be seen. Not like before. Not like the occasions where he would be standing by my side, supporting me, calming my nerves with a joke or two. No, Nick isn't here. It's just me. For once, just me. I have to depend on myself. No one else.

I think it came to be at that moment, when the doors suddenly opened revealing a formal line of people queuing in to approach me, that I had never been truly independent. When me and Nick first got together, we did everything together. Our plans, our decisions were a union. The books before this one? All influenced by Nick. I mean they were literally our relationship, just overly exaggerated for appeal. I just hadn't realised it till now. Nick. Everything was Nick, Nick, Nick. I don't think I've ever done something without Nick by my side. And it felt strangely empowering to be sat at that table alone. I could do this. Get today over and done with.

A woman with curly auburn hair was first to approach my table. I had expected her to throw the book at me and spit words of disgust but instead she smiled with glee and began blabbering incessantly about much she adored the book. I was surprised.

"I loved, loved, loved it. Elle is such an empowering figure. Granted she made a mistake but I'm glad she's working on herself," she had said, passing me over her book. It took me a while to adjust to what she had said as I sat there a little dumbfounded, unsure how to react as she stood there patiently, awaiting my response.

"You did?" I croaked a little at the back of my throat.

"Ah, yes," she chuckled a little, somewhat startled by my response. "It was so, so good. So authentic. I think it's your best one yet," she added.

Again, I was so confused. It was story about an affair. It pretty much gave everyone the blueprint on my affair. My horrid mistake. My despicable actions. But no, here was she praising my work.

"I-I'm glad you did," I replied a little dazed, inscribing my name in the inside of the front of the book before gently passing it back. Had that just happened? How was that possible? It didn't make sense. Praising it? Surely that was just a bluff. A test. No, I shouldn't be happy about that. I should be detested. Spat at. I was the monster. Elle, the main character was the monster. She didn't deserve praise.

"Hi, I'm so happy to finally meet you," a voice piped up, breaking my train of restless thought. Another reader stood before, again sharing a face of admiration as she spoke. "I loved this. Like I could relate to Elle on so many levels. It made me realise that I'm stuck in a loveless relationship and I shouldn't hold on it to anymore for the sake of their happiness. Thank you for writing this," she praised.

I had to blink three to four times. "It did?"

"Yes, you've helped me realise my potential," she responded, passing over her edition of the book.

Again, I was baffled. I slowly inscribed my name in the cover, passing it over gently as I quietly thanked her for her support. This was just a dream? This can't be real. There are no way people are actually praising this. But no, as the steady influx of people continued to approach the table, each one of them had thanked me. Some had said it had awoken them to the possibility of finding genuine happiness, not fearing being alone for the sake of staying in a loveless relationship. Others had quite rightly seen the wrong in Elle's actions to have an affair but could understand why. It was all a bit overwhelming. I hadn't expected the reactions that I had so far received. Surely, this was just all a dream that I'd wake up to.

I couldn't lie but the praise I had received for writing something so authentic and raw had boosted my confidence. I was starting to lighten up, climb out of my misery as I jumped more into the role of a published writer meeting their fans. For once, I felt a glimmer of hope. I was doing this without Nick. I was doing this all on my own.

Towards the end of the event, Peter had invited me to make a small toast with the remaining crowd of people. I took the opportunity feeling more elevated as I stood up and held my book up to make a small speech. Peter began to record it on his phone from the back as eager fans, lucky enough to catch more insight into the work, stood around each corner of the bookstore.

"I-I, am honestly so surprised by the reaction. I want to thank all of you for your support and honesty. Hearing all of your stories has meant so much to me. I cannot thank you enough. But, I want to be honest with you..." I paused as I looked down at the cover, somewhat proud that what I had seen as a monstrosity could somehow support others realise their right to happiness. "I wrote this because I started to become unhappy in my own marriage," I began, "I made a stupid mistake costing the people I loved around me, their happiness. I loved my partner. I still do but I can't love like them like I used to. I don't deserve pity and I know I'm in the wrong. I just wish I was honest at the start and gave them the opportunity to find their happiness than be destroyed by selfish need. I'm still trying to make things right." I paused again, surveying the room looking for faces of sudden shock or disgust but instead, I was met mostly with interest. "I didn't know this book was going to have such an impact on so many of you...I genuinely thought it would turn people away. Marriage and relationships are hard. They're not always straight-forward. You deserve to be in a relationship that makes you happy. So, if you're unsure, don't wait around for when it picks up, don't make stupid mistakes like me and hurt those you love, and please don't think that you don't deserve happiness. Because you do," I said, closing my speech as I placed the book back onto the table.

There was minute or two of silence and then a burst of applause erupted. I was caught off-guard but as my agent, Peter, came over and patted my back, I felt a little more encouraged that redemption could possibly be on my track.

"That took some nerve," he said quietly as the crowd of people dispersed slowly out the store in chatter. "You deserve just as well a second chance, pet," he added before heading off to attend to final checks.

I was aware that tabloids and other people would have their opinion. Some fans probably would boycott my work in shun of their learning of my affair in influence of the book but at that moment, I couldn't care less. I deserved to find my own happiness. Find my own path. I would just have to learn to live with my mistake, accept personal growth and take responsibility. I had to start working on me.

After the event was done and dusted, exiting the back entrance of the store, I was stopped in my tracks as I heard a familiar voice coming from the left of me down the alleyway.

"Excuse me, I ran a little late to the event. Could you sign this for me please?"

I turned with a warm smile to greet the stranger but immediately froze in my tracks as the sight of Nick took my heart hostage.

"Nick?"

It couldn't be Nick. There was no way it was him.

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