The suitcase lay open on the bed. I meticulously folded a floral sundress, picturing myself twirling in it on a white sand beach. Maldives, I thought, the word itself a whisper of paradise. Rami had outdone himself. A honeymoon in the Maldives! I still couldn't quite believe it.He called from downstairs, "Dema, habibti, I'm leaving now, be ready in 15!""Okay!" I called back, my heart fluttering with anticipation. I zipped up the suitcase, a little too excited, and grabbed my passport. As I headed downstairs, I noticed Rami wasn't in the car."Just popping into the jewelry store,I won't be late," he said when I called him, He was back quickly, though, slipping a small, velvet box into my hand."What's this?" I asked, my fingers trembling as I opened it. Inside, nestled on a bed of satin, was the most exquisite ring I had ever seen. It was a delicate band of platinum, and the diamond… the diamond was breathtaking. It seemed to catch the light from every angle, sparkling with an inner
Rami and I decided to treat ourselves to a full spa day. It was just what we both needed. I settled in for a manicure, choosing a soft pink that I thought would complement my skin tone. "Habibi, what do you think of this color?" I asked him.He answered that it suited me so well, then he disappeared into a quiet room for a massage. I could practically feel the tension melting away from him just thinking about it.After my nails were perfect, it was my turn for some pampering. I opted for a facial and a relaxing massage. While I was being slathered in creams and having my muscles kneaded, Rami mentioned he was going to soak in a hot bath. He said he'd be waiting when I was done.A couple of hours later, we emerged from the spa feeling completely rejuvenated. My skin felt baby-soft, my nails looked great, and my body was relaxed and loose. Rami looked equally refreshed, his face relaxed and his shoulders no longer hunched. It was the perfect way to spend the day together. "So, where sha
The drive back from the airport felt longer than the flight itself. My mind was still replaying moments from our honeymoon – the blue sky mirroring the sea, the vibrant sunsets, Rami's laughter and how we danced on the beach . It all felt like a dream now, a beautiful, sweet dream. As our car pulled up to the gates of our mansion, a wave of warmth washed over me. Home. Finally, we were home.Rami squeezed my hand, a wide grin on his face. "We're home Habibti"I smiled, though a tiny sliver of sadness lingered. Honeymoons do have to end, I supposed. ,"Home sweet home." I replied.The front doors swung open and a line of maids stood waiting. Usually, their smiles were as bright as the morning sun, but today, something was off. Their faces were grim, their eyes shadowed. A knot of unease tightened in my stomach."Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Al-Masri," they chorused, but the words sounded hollow.Rami, oblivious, clapped his hands together. "It's good to be back! Everything alrig
The mall buzzed with the usual pre-holiday chaos. I was on a mission – find the perfect gift for my mother-in-law. She was a woman of discerning taste, and I wanted to make a good impression. As I browsed the jewelry store, a familiar voice cut through the noise."Well, well, look who it is," the voice sneered. My stomach dropped. It was Razan. Razan from college. A wave of unpleasant memories washed over me. Razan and I…we had history. And it wasn’t good.Back then, I was focused on my studies. I wanted to excel and I did. I was the top student back then while Razan, well, she wasn’t good at any subject and I heard she failed many tests. And for that reason, she made herself my enemy. She’d been relentlessly cruel, spreading rumors about me. She’d told everyone I was a broke orphan, I couldn't understand why she made up her mind to ruin my life. The worst was when she accused me of cheating on a test. That almost got me in serious trouble. If it hadn't been for Prof
When I woke up this morning I found myself on my bed, but something was wrong. I was in my bed, alone. Rami wasn't beside me. A little frown creased my forehead. He’s usually an early riser, but he always makes sure to kiss me goodbye, even if I’m still half-asleep.I pushed myself up, a slight stiffness in my back, and padded out of the bedroom. "Where's Rami?" I asked the first maid I saw, a young woman named Farah."Good morning, Madam Dema," she replied, with a polite smile."Mr. Rami came home very late last night. He left very early this morning, too. He said he didn't want to disturb you.""Oh," I murmured, a little knot of uneas tightening in my stomach. "Did he say anything else?"Farah shook her head. "No, Madam. He just said he had to leave quickly."I thanked her and went to the kitchen, the knot in my stomach growing. I poured myself a glass of water and then grabbed my phone. I scrolled through my contacts and tapped Rami’s name. He didn't answer and I tried 3 t
My shoulders slumped, the weight of my laptop bag feeling ten times heavier than usual. All I wanted was to crawl into bed and disappear. But the thought of facing the empty Bedroom, the silence amplifying my loneliness, made me hesitate. I’d tried to be subtle, of course. I casually walked past Rami’s office on my way out, hoping to catch him before he left. But his door was closed, and when I peeked in, his desk was bare. His new assistant, had said “He left about an hour ago. Big meeting with some partners. Said it was pretty important.” Important. Right. More important than a quick call? A text? Anything? My stomach twisted. It wasn’t like him. Or, at least, it wasn’t like him before. At least not since his confession to me. I’d replayed our last interaction a hundred times in my head. Had I said something wrong? Had I come across as too needy? Too clingy? I wracked my brain, searching for a clue, a hint, anything that could explain his silence. I unlocked my bedroom door, the
The shift finally ended and I could feel the tension drain out of my shoulders. It had been a brutal shift, everyone running ragged, it's been a stressful week, I'm proud of my team for pulling through, though, as a team we always do.I glanced around at their tired but satisfied faces as they gathered their things, ready to head home.I read an article once about the effects of strees on corporations employees, as someone who used to work many overtime shifts a week I know better than anyone what stress can do to a one's health.I decided that my team deserves a reward for their hard work."Hey everyone," I called out, trying to sound casual. "Before you all disappear, I wanted to say something. You all worked hard this week. Seriously, I'm so lucky to work with such a dedicated team." They mumbled their thanks, some still half-lost in their post-shift daze. "And because of that," I continued, a smile spreading across my face, "I have a little surprise for you all. Tomorrow night. Co
Ugh. I slammed the car door, harder than necessary, and stalked towards the building. My reflection in the glass doors did little to improve my mood. Frown lines were definitely making a comeback. I’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed, tangled in the sheets, with a heavy feeling I couldn’t shake. Even my usually reliable double espresso hadn’t done the trick.My phone buzzed in my pocket. Probably another text from Rami. I pulled it out, sighing. Yep. "Just landed. Meeting in an hour. Miss you." A simple heart emoji followed. Miss you too. Of course I missed him. That was the problem.We’d been playing phone tag for days. He was in London for this stupid conference, and I was stuck here, drowning in spreadsheets and deadlines. Every time I managed a free moment to call, he was in a meeting. Every time he called, I was in one too. The time difference was killing us.Texts were… fine. Better than nothing, I supposed. But they were so… sterile. Just words on a screen. I
The morning sun filters through the windows of Rami’s beach house, casting a warm glow over the chaos we’ve created. Balloons, streamers, and boxes of decorations are scattered everywhere. I’m holding a string of fairy lights, trying to untangle them, while Rami paces the room, his phone pressed to his ear. His jaw is tight, and I can tell by the way he’s muttering under his breath that his father isn’t answering—again.“He’s not picking up,” Rami says, finally lowering the phone. His voice is calm, but I can see the frustration in the way his shoulders tense. “I’ve called him five times already. I even texted him. He knows it’s her birthday. He has to come.”I set the lights down and walk over to him, placing a hand on his arm. “He’ll come, Rami. He has to. It’s your mom. He wouldn’t miss this.” I say it with more confidence than I feel. His father has always been... unpredictable. But today isn’t about him. It’s about her.Rami sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t g
I was at my desk, engrossed in work, when my phone buzzed. It was Rami. “Dema, can you come to my office for a moment?” he asked, his tone calm but with a hint of something I couldn’t quite place. Curiosity piqued, I grabbed my notebook and headed over.When I walked into Rami’s office, I was surprised to see his father, Mr. Al Nassar, sitting across from him. He looked as distinguished as ever, his presence commanding the room. Rami stood up as I entered, gesturing for me to join them. “Dema, my father just stopped by. I thought you should come and greet him.”I smiled politely, extending my hand. “Mr. Al Nassar, it’s so nice to see you.”He stood, shaking my hand with a warm smile. “Dema, always a pleasure. I just came by to thank you both for attending the event the other day. You both behaved so gracefully and I couldn’t be prouder.” He turned to me, his gaze softening. “And you, my dear, everyone was complimenting your beauty, grace, and class. You truly stood out.”I felt my che
As we walked into the grand living room of Rami’s parents’ house, I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The air was thick with anticipation, and the room was filled with familiar faces—Rami’s mother, his uncles, cousins, all seated in a semi-circle, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. Rami’s hand was warm in mine, a silent reassurance as we took our seats among the family. I glanced at him, and he gave me a small, encouraging smile, though I could tell he was just as nervous as I was. Something big was about to happen.Mr. Al Nassar, Rami’s father, stood at the center of the room, his posture commanding yet calm. He cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. All eyes were on him. My heart raced as I waited for him to speak, my mind racing with possibilities. What could this be about? The big Event we had attended with the prince just days ago still lingered in my thoughts—the grandeur, the conversations, the unspoken tension. I had felt then t
The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across my room, but I barely noticed. My mind was racing, my stomach in knots. Tonight was the event—the one Rami’s father had insisted we attend. Hosted by the crown prince himself. The crown prince. Just the thought made my palms sweat. This wasn’t just any event. It was the kind where every glance, every word, every step would be scrutinized. And I? I was not ready.I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my closet as if it held the answers to all my problems. What does one even wear to something like this? Something elegant, obviously, but not too flashy. Sophisticated, but not intimidating. I groaned, running a hand through my hair. This was impossible. I needed help. Professional help.I grabbed my phone and dialed my stylist. She picked up on the second ring, her voice calm and reassuring, as always. “Dema, darling, what’s the emergency?”“I need you. Right now. It’s the event tonight—the one with the crown pri
As Rami and I walked toward the stadium, the buzz of the crowd grew louder, but my mind was somewhere else entirely. I tried to keep up with his cheerful banter about the game, but I could feel the weight of work pressing down on me. My team’s struggles had been gnawing at me all week, and no matter how hard I tried to push it aside, the anxiety kept creeping back in.“Dema,” Rami said suddenly, his voice cutting through my thoughts. “You seem off. Is something wrong?”I hesitated, glancing at him. His brow was furrowed with concern, and I knew I couldn’t brush it off. “It’s just… work,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. “Things haven’t been great. The team’s numbers are down, and we’re struggling to hit our targets. I’ve been trying to figure out how to turn things around, but it’s been stressing me out.”Rami nodded thoughtfully, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets as we continued walking. “Have you thought about giving them an incentive?” he asked casually, as if it
I sat at my desk, staring at the latest report in front of me. The numbers were down—again. It felt like no matter what we did, we just couldn’t hit our targets. The weight of it all pressed down on me, and I could see the same frustration mirrored in the faces of my team. They were trying their best, I knew that, but the energy in the office had shifted. The usual buzz of productivity was gone, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to hang over us like a cloud.I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Was it the workload? The pressure? Or was it something else entirely? I decided to talk to Karim, our team leader. If anyone had insight into what was going on, it was him.I found him in the break room, sipping coffee and scrolling through his phone. He looked up as I walked in, and I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. “Hey, Karim,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Got a minute?”“Sure, Dema,” he said, setting his phone down. “
As I stepped into the elegant foyer of Alice’s home, I felt a quiet confidence in my choice of attire. My black skirt suit was timeless, tailored to perfection, and paired with simple jewelry that added just the right touch of sophistication. I didn’t need to scream luxury; I wanted to embody understated elegance, and I think I succeeded. I had officially decided to boycott top brands and I did, I bought this suit from a new designer I came across online, I loved her work so I decided to support her.Alice the wife of Rami's business partner invited me to her house for tea, she greeted me warmly when I arrived, her smile as polished as the silver watch she was wearing.“Dema, so glad you could make it!” she said, her voice dripping with the kind of charm that made you feel both welcomed and slightly scrutinized. I returned her smile, careful to match her poise. She led me into the sitting room, where the air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers and the soft murmur of conversation
I’m curled up on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting lights across the living room. *Pride and Prejudice* played out before me.While watching it I couldn't help but feel a strange pull in my chest as I watched Elizabeth Bennet. She was so real. Plain, humble, sharp-tongued, and unapologetically herself. I saw so much of me in her—or maybe I just want to. But then there’s Mr. Darcy, standing there with all his wealth, his pride, his quiet intensity. And my mind drifts to Rami.Rami. He’s nothing like Darcy, not really. Sure, he’s got the wealth, the influence, the confidence that comes with it. But where Darcy is reserved, Rami is magnetic. Charming. The kind of person who walks into a room and instantly owns it. Everyone loves him. Everyone wants to be near him. And why wouldn’t they? He’s outgoing, effortlessly likeable, and has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room when he talks to you. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? He makes everyone feel th
As I adjusted the hem of my long-sleeved black dress in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel a strange disconnect. The fabric was luxurious, the cut elegant, I couldn't help but think that it's just not me. Rami had insisted we dress to impress tonight, those are his words not mine. He stood behind me now, adjusting his gray tuxedo in the reflection, the golden watch on his wrist catching the light. He looked every bit the successful man he was, the tension between us was still there, hanging in the air, it was bitter and uncomfortable,I was growing sick of it, but there was nothing I can do about it.“You look stunning,” he said, his voice soft but distant, as if he were speaking to a stranger. I nodded, my lips forming a tight smile. I didn’t feel stunning. I felt hollow. The simple jewelry I’d chosen—a pair of pearl earrings and a delicate silver bracelet—felt like armor, a way to shield myself from the prying eyes of the people we were about to meet. Rami had mentioned how impor