Livia walks out of her former bedroom with her head held high.
She is Livia Astor again, world-famous supermodel and the muse of top fashion designers. Her Grecian dress of pleated silk jersey wraps her body softly, but it is also her strongest armour again. Once more, she is confident in her own skin.
Her self-worth is no longer tied to the whims of a philandering and disloyal husband who heart chases after a hundred women.
She knows she is not destined to sit around like a fool and wither while waiting for love from a man who only remembers her when it is convenient. When he is bored. When his other playthings are not available. When he has some spare time before his next partner arrives.
She is Livia fucking Astor.
And she has children she loves and friends who love her. Her marriage may have failed, but it's no fault of hers and reflects nothing about her.
