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chapter 13, The charity event
Last Updated:
2025-01-27 01:41:16
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I stood in front of the mirror, watching as my stylist made the final adjustments to my outfit. The deep emerald-green dress hugged my figure perfectly, its silky fabric flowing elegantly down to my ankles. The subtle gold accents on the cuffs and neckline added just the right touch of sophistication. My makeup was flawless—soft, yet striking—and my hair fell in perfect waves over my shoulders. For once, I felt completely in control."Perfect," my stylist said with a satisfied smile, stepping back to admire her work.I took a deep breath. Today, I wasn’t going to let my mother-in-law catch me off guard. The last time she invited me for tea, she had dissected my outfit, my manners, and practically everything else with that sharp, scrutinizing gaze of hers. But today? Today, I was ready.Arriving at her house, I walked into the grand sitting room, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor. She was already seated by the window, sipping tea from one of her impossibly delicate porc
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The salt spray kissed my face as I stepped out of the car, the scent of the ocean a welcome counterpoint to the nervous flutter in my stomach. Omar's uncle's beach house was always a scene, a whirlwind of extended family, boisterous laughter, and the inevitable comparisons. I smoothed down the silk of my dress, a masterpiece from a boutique in the city and adjusted the oversized sunglasses perched on my nose."You look like you're going to the Oscars, not a family barbecue," Omar grumbled, his brow furrowed.I rolled my eyes, a practiced move. "Ramu your mother will be there. I can't just show up in jeans and a t-shirt. I have to look the part."He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The part of what? A fashion magazine cover? You're going to feel suffocated in that thing.""And you'd rather I show up looking like I haven't left the house in weeks? Let's be realistic, Rami. Appearances matter. Especially when your mother is around."He knew I was right. Rami's mother, bless her
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A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I stared out the window. Another gray day, mirroring my mood. It had been days since that awful barbecue party, and the dark cloud hanging over me hadn't budged. My maids, bless their hearts, had tried their best to cheer me up. "They're just jealous, Dema," they said, bustling around me with cups of mint tea and plates of delicate pastries. " They are jealous of your beauty, your style, and your husband's love."It sounded nice, a comforting little fairytale. But I wasn't a fool. I knew the truth and what I'd seen, the thinly veiled insults, the pointed whispers, the way they’d all huddled together, excluding me, their smiles tight and fake. They hadn't been jealous. They'd been… spiteful. And the worst part? My husband's indifference toward the whole situation.I’d tried to tell him, of course. The moment we got home, I’d poured out my heart, the hurt bubbling over. I’d expected comfort, a reassuring hug, maybe even a word or two of reprimand for hi
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The silence in this apartment is deafening. It’s a thick, heavy blanket that smothers every other sound, including the insistent buzzing of my phone. I know who it is. Probably the maids they’ve been trying all day. I haven’t eaten since last night. My stomach growls, a hollow, echoing complaint, but I ignore it. Food feels… unnecessary. Everything feels unnecessary.I stare at the peeling paint on the opposite wall, tracing the faded pattern with my eyes. This apartment… it’s a relic. A ghost of a life I used to live. A life I thought I’d escaped. And yet, here I am, back in its dusty embrace, feeling just as lost and empty as I did before.A memory flickers. Warm, like a hearth fire in the dead of winter. Professor El-Masri. Her kind eyes, the gentle curve of her smile. She’d seen me, really seen me, back when I was nothing but a shadow drifting through the university halls. Homeless, hungry, and utterly alone. Everyone else just saw the surface – the quiet girl who always sat in
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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
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A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I stared out the window. Another gray day, mirroring my mood. It had been days since that awful barbecue party, and the dark cloud hanging over me hadn't budged. My maids, bless their hearts, had tried their best to cheer me up. "They're just jealous, Dema," they said, bustling around me with cups of mint tea and plates of delicate pastries. " They are jealous of your beauty, your style, and your husband's love."It sounded nice, a comforting little fairytale. But I wasn't a fool. I knew the truth and what I'd seen, the thinly veiled insults, the pointed whispers, the way they’d all huddled together, excluding me, their smiles tight and fake. They hadn't been jealous. They'd been… spiteful. And the worst part? My husband's indifference toward the whole situation.I’d tried to tell him, of course. The moment we got home, I’d poured out my heart, the hurt bubbling over. I’d expected comfort, a reassuring hug, maybe even a word or two of reprimand for hi
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I stood in front of the mirror, watching as my stylist made the final adjustments to my outfit. The deep emerald-green dress hugged my figure perfectly, its silky fabric flowing elegantly down to my ankles. The subtle gold accents on the cuffs and neckline added just the right touch of sophistication. My makeup was flawless—soft, yet striking—and my hair fell in perfect waves over my shoulders. For once, I felt completely in control."Perfect," my stylist said with a satisfied smile, stepping back to admire her work.I took a deep breath. Today, I wasn’t going to let my mother-in-law catch me off guard. The last time she invited me for tea, she had dissected my outfit, my manners, and practically everything else with that sharp, scrutinizing gaze of hers. But today? Today, I was ready.Arriving at her house, I walked into the grand sitting room, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor. She was already seated by the window, sipping tea from one of her impossibly delicate porc
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO chapter 13, The charity event
As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of my dress, a sense of nervous excitement fluttered in my chest. Tonight was important. I had spent days preparing for this charity event, carefully crafting my speech, making sure every word would leave an impact. Public speaking wasn’t exactly my forte, but I felt ready this time. The speech was heartfelt, personal—something I knew would resonate with the audience.I smoothed my dress one last time, the deep blue fabric falling perfectly against my figure. It was modest yet elegant—appropriate for an event focused on helping those in need. I grabbed my notecards, tucking them neatly into my clutch, and took a deep breath before heading out.The venue was grander than I expected, with twinkling fairy lights lining the entrance and a red carpet rolled out along the way. As I walked inside, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor, I took in the beautifully decorated hall. Everything was perfect—until I caught sight of the
