Chapter 3, rich housewives

The soft rays of morning sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, gently coaxing me from my slumber. I stirred, blinking against the brightness as the events of the previous day flooded back—my wedding, the celebration, and the whirlwind of emotions that had accompanied it.

As I sat up, still wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, a light knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. The door opened slightly, and one of the maids peeked in with a warm smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Rami,” she said cheerfully. “Breakfast is ready whenever you are.”

“Thank you,” I replied, my voice still thick with sleep. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and took a moment to gather myself before standing.

After a quick shower and changing into a light dress, I made my way downstairs, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries filled the air. Rami was already seated at the grand dining table, his attention divided between his phone and the newspaper spread out before him.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted me with a smile, putting his phone down as I took a seat across from him. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am,” I replied, glancing at the spread before me—fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and pastries. It all looked delicious.

As we began to eat, Rami leaned forward, his expression shifting from casual to serious. “So, today you’ll be spending time with my mother,” he said, his tone all business. “She’s excited to see you.”

A flutter of nerves danced in my stomach. “Oh? What do you think we’ll be doing?” 

“Just some shopping and lunch at her favorite spot,” he replied matter-of-factly. “But remember to be obedient and lovely with her. She can be a bit… particular.” 

I nodded slowly, trying to mask my apprehension. “I’ll do my best.”

“And don’t forget to ask her about her interests,” Rami continued, his voice firm yet encouraging. “She loves discussing her garden and art. Just keep her talking about what she loves; it’ll go a long way.”

I smiled weakly, feeling the weight of his expectations pressing down on me. “I understand.”

Rami finished his coffee and glanced at his watch. “I have to head to the office soon,” he said, rising from his seat. “Make sure you’re ready by ten. I’ll have the car take you to my mom’s place.”

“Okay,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light despite the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface.

As he moved toward the door, he paused and turned back to me. “Oh, and Dema…” 

I looked up at him, surprised that he had used my name so casually. “Yes?”

“Call me Rami,” he said with a playful grin. “It’s only fair since we’re married now.”

A smile broke across my face at the sound of his name. “Alright, Rami,” I said softly.

“Good,” he replied, his expression softening. “Now go have fun with my mom. And remember—be lovely.” With that, he winked and stepped out of the room.

I sat for a moment in silence, absorbing everything he had said. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for the day ahead. As daunting as it seemed, I was determined to make a good impression—not just for Rami but for myself as well. Today would be about more than just following orders; it would be about finding my place in this new world.

The car ride to the shopping district was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional comment from Rami's mother, Laila, about the latest sales and new stores. I sat in the passenger seat, trying to absorb every detail of her effortless elegance. Laila was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, her hair perfectly styled, exuding an air of confidence that both inspired and intimidated me.

As we arrived at the bustling shopping district, Laila stepped out of the car with an elegance that made heads turn. I followed suit, trying to mirror her poise as we walked through the doors of a high-end boutique. The shop was filled with luxurious fabrics and exquisite designs that made my heart race—and not just from excitement.

“Let’s find you something lovely,” she said, her eyes scanning the racks with a discerning gaze. She picked up a stunning silk dress in a deep emerald green and held it up against me. “This would look beautiful on you.”

I took it from her, feeling the soft fabric between my fingers. “It’s gorgeous,” I admitted, but self-doubt crept in. Would it really suit me?

Laila nodded approvingly and ushered me toward the changing room. “Try it on. You’ll see.”

As I slipped into the dress, I felt a rush of confidence wash over me. The color complemented my skin tone, and the fit was perfect. I stepped out of the changing room, and Laila’s eyes lit up.

“See? I told you!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You look stunning!”

I blushed at her praise, but before I could respond, she was already moving on to accessories, picking out a delicate necklace and matching earrings. After a whirlwind of shopping—each piece more extravagant than the last—I found myself laden with bags as we made our way to the horse riding club.

The club was a sprawling estate, complete with manicured lawns and pristine stables. As we entered, I noticed several women gathered near the paddock, their laughter ringing out like music. They were all impeccably dressed, exuding wealth and sophistication.

“Dema!” Laila called out, drawing my attention back to her. “Let me introduce you to my friends.”

My stomach fluttered with nerves as she led me toward the group. They were all strikingly beautiful, with an air of confidence that made me feel like a fish out of water.

“Ladies,” Laila began, her voice warm and inviting. “This is my daughter-in-law, Dema.”

“Welcome, Dema!” one woman said, stepping forward with a bright smile. “I’m Celeste. It’s lovely to meet you.” She extended her hand, and I shook it, trying to match her enthusiasm.

“Thank you,” I managed to say, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

Another woman chimed in, “You’re lucky to have Rami! He’s such a catch.” Her comment elicited giggles from the group, and I felt my cheeks flush.

“Yes, he is,” I replied quickly, hoping to keep up with their banter.

Laila guided me deeper into the group, introducing me to each woman—Marina, a successful entrepreneur; Isabelle, a renowned interior designer; and Sofia, who owned several luxury boutiques. Each introduction came with compliments and questions about my interests and background.

As they chatted animatedly about their latest business ventures and travels, I struggled to find my footing in the conversation. My experiences felt so mundane compared to theirs; they spoke of galas in Paris and exclusive retreats in the Maldives while I tried to remember when I last took a vacation that didn’t involve family obligations.

“Dema,” Marina said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um…” My mind raced for an answer. “I’m still figuring things out,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I’ve mostly been focused on settling in.”

“Of course,” Laila interjected smoothly. “She’s just getting accustomed to our world.”

The women nodded knowingly, but I could sense their curiosity lingering. I tried to engage more actively in their conversation, asking questions about their businesses and sharing snippets of my life where I could. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider looking in.

After what felt like an eternity of mingling, we moved to the riding area where horses were being saddled for an afternoon ride. Laila’s friends were all seasoned riders; they moved with grace and confidence as they prepared their horses.

“Have you ridden before?” Celeste asked as she adjusted her riding gloves.

“A few times as a child,” I admitted sheepishly.

“You’ll love it! It’s exhilarating,” Sofia said enthusiastically. “Laila can show you the ropes.”

As I mounted my horse—a gentle mare named Bella—I felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with anxiety. The other women rode effortlessly alongside me, chatting and laughing as we trotted around the paddock.

I tried to focus on keeping my posture straight and controlling Bella as we rode in tandem with Laila. But every time I glanced over at the other women—so confident and poised—I felt that familiar wave of inadequacy wash over me.

“Just relax,” Laila called back to me encouragingly. “You’re doing great!”

With her words echoing in my mind, I took a deep breath and allowed myself to enjoy the ride. Maybe today wouldn’t be about impressing them or fitting in perfectly; perhaps it was enough just to be present and try my best.

As we rode on under the warm sun, laughter ringing in the air, I realized that this

new chapter of my life was just beginning—and maybe I could carve out my own place in it after all.