The next morning, I woke up feeling disoriented. I couldn’t differentiate between reality and dream. Last night’s confession felt like a mere bedtime story.

Hera was nowhere to be found. Which—was quite common, I’d admit. At this hour of the day, she’d be out and about. She’d be attending her little business. Nothing strange... right?

Wrong.

I was such a naive little girl then, waiting for her to come back. I was such a fool, acting like she had no place to return to other than this shabby place. I was a simpleton, thinking I was the only one she had.

But I waited. Like the little clown I was, I waited so obediently. As if she would come back to me.

I waited all day, wondering her whereabouts and concerning her wellbeing. But at the end of the day, she didn’t come back.

Maybe, right from the start, she wanted to leave. Maybe, right from the start, I was just a little toy for her.

What a fool, trusting people so easily despite being betrayed once. Ironically, I waited again. I waited for days, holding onto the petty faith I had in her. A little portion of my sane mind yelled at me that she wouldn’t come back, but the bigger portion of my deluded mind hoped that she would come back like a knight.

Fool. Stupid. What a buffoon. Moron.

She never wished to be with me. She never loved me from the start.

Well, she was right, though—I was naive. A naive little girl who couldn’t see the reality right in front of her.

It took me a few days before I realized the obvious. That she was the Zelinda. That her name was Altair—not Hera, of course, because it was a name I gave to her. And—that I was tricked. Once again.

I know, I know. Should have been obvious from the start, but you can’t blame me. I was delusional. Like, I was living in my own bubble. We didn’t sneak into some wealthy man’s lair. We sneaked into her own house. I was a fool for thinking we were brave and cool by breaking into the riches’ lair. No, I was a mere uninvited guest who couldn’t even be welcomed through the front door.

My throat felt dry when the realization hit me. I cursed myself. I cursed faith. I cursed the world, and I cursed everything. Yet, I couldn’t curse her.