my story
When a love story goes wrong, the whole truth is the death of everything. My problem is that I don’t know the truth anymore. I do know I was head over heels in love. I know that I was in Europe on a romantic holiday with the man of my dreams. I also know, just from looking in the mirror, that something terrible happened to me. Something horrific.
Byron and I had been living together for almost two years. With Byron’s support I’d started No Saints, an ethical shoe company, we’d bought a home and had begun talking about marriage and children. My mum, back home in Brazil where I was born, was waiting for us to announce our engagement. I had
