Not all betrayal should push you to the dead end.
Max, my fiancee, left me standing on the red carpet. And right in front of my eyes, he walked up to my suppose younger sister and led her to the priest.
Again, before my very own eyes, he got married to Fiona, and my parents cheered.
Funny how these same people had encouraged me into marriage.
If that was said to be embarrassing, then humiliation was when Fiona threw muddy water all over my white wedding dress.
I don't belong to high society; I'm ordinary. The daughter of a prostitute, I am not royalty. I'm not going to argue, nor am I going to fight, because I know there won't be an end if I do.
But there's one thing they all seem to forget: A diamond is just like an ordinary stone; it just needs a polisher to polish it and tell it its worth.
Life couldn't have treated me any better. Just by giving me the name Diamond, I knew for sure I wasn't going to a dead end.
I am the diamond; I just need the lucky one to polish me into lustre.
Do I need a polisher? Am I going to get one in order to get back at those who have literally stabbed me in the back? Or am I going to be my own polisher?
The changer of my own fate?