The restaurant buzzed with the sound of soft conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the quiet hum of background music. I sat across from Samuel, my fingers lightly tracing the edge of the menu in front of me. My eyes skimmed the dishes, but my mind was far from the elegant descriptions of salads and entrees. The table between us was small, but the distance between our lives felt vast—so much pain, anger, and betrayal that no menu could paper over.I glanced up at him, sitting there with his usual calm demeanor, his eyes fixed on the menu as if this was just any other lunch as if we hadn’t spent years locked in a twisted, bitter marriage. Samuel looked composed, almost too composed, like he had rehearsed this moment. Maybe he had. I knew why he was here, and what he was trying to do, and it made my stomach twist with resentment. I was no longer the naive girl he could manipulate, yet here I was, sitting across from him, playing this game.As I stared at him, my thoughts drifted bac
Two days after I graduated from business school felt surreal, like the calm before a storm I could neither predict nor avoid. Grandma was ecstatic, proud in her silent way, and after the ceremony, she said it was time for me to visit the office—the first time since the meltdown that had sent me spiraling. The mere thought of it made my stomach twist. That meltdown, my first major bipolar episode after returning to the Edgewood mansion, still haunted me. Grandma, always supportive, had been my rock, ensuring I got the best care and medication. Yet, even the best drugs couldn’t drown out my anxiety entirely. But I needed to do this. For myself. For the family. For everything I had worked toward in business school.“Anna, my dear,” Grandma said as she poured her tea, her voice soft yet commanding. “You’ve earned your place. It’s time you saw the company with your own eyes. Henry’s there, of course, but this is your moment.”Her words were a mixture of comfort and pressure. I knew she wa
After my unexpected triumph at the office, a sense of accomplishment followed me all the way home. It was rare, this feeling of stability. It wasn’t the peace of having everything figured out, but rather the confidence that I could face whatever was coming next. I wasn’t the same scared girl who had come back to the Edgewood mansion months ago—I was the new CEO of a legacy I had yet to fully understand but was starting to make my own.As soon as I stepped through the front door, I knew where I wanted to go. Grandma’s room had always been a sanctuary. Her presence, even in the most difficult times, had been my anchor. I hurried up the stairs, eager to share the day’s events with her. When I opened her door, there she was, lying comfortably on her large bed, the picture of elegance and strength, even in her old age.“Anna,” she greeted me, her voice warm and welcoming. “Come here, darling. Tell me everything.”Without hesitation, I climbed into bed beside her, settling into the plush pi
I rushed into my grandmother's room, barely able to breathe. The air felt thick with dread as I flung the door open, my voice breaking as I called out, "Grandma, Grandma, are you okay?"There she was, lying in her bed, pale and fragile, her once vibrant eyes now tired but still filled with love. I raced to her bedside, collapsing into the chair next to her, my heart pounding in my chest. "Grandma, please," I whispered, my hand shaking as I reached for hers, "tell me you're okay."She tried to smile, her lips trembling as she looked at me with the same warmth she always had, but it was laced with something more—something I hadn’t seen before. “My princess,” she whispered, her voice weak but steady. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Henry will take care of you.”Henry, who had been standing by the window with his arms crossed, gave me a tight smile, but there was something in his eyes that made my stomach twist. Confusion swept over me, and I couldn’t hide the panic in my voice as I turned to
"Are you ready, Anna? To serve Samuel his divorce papers?" His voice was gentle as if he could sense my hesitation.I nodded slowly, unable to find the words. This was it. After years of suffering, I was finally taking back my life. The papers felt heavy in my hands, symbolic of every battle I had endured. Every tear, every sleepless night.The maid, standing by the door, glanced at Mr. Mike, awaiting his signal. "Go and call Mr. Samuel. He’s in the guest house," he instructed.I could hear the faint thump of music coming from the guest house, the sound of Samuel’s "good life." The man I had married had turned into a stranger, indulging in the company of others, in everything that had nothing to do with me. I had long since stopped wondering where I went wrong because I knew now—it was never about me.I glanced toward my grandmother, Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, lying weakly in her bed. She had been my rock through all of this, her frail hands still able to hold my spirit together even as
I sat at the edge of the bed, dressed in the black gown I hadn’t taken off in days. It had been two months since Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, the woman who had been like a mother to me, passed away. And I hadn’t left my room since the funeral. The outside world felt distant, like a memory that no longer belonged to me. My world had shrunk to the size of this room, this bed. I couldn’t shake the hollow emptiness that settled in my chest like a permanent weight. Grief had consumed me, and with each passing day, it grew harder to remember what it was like to feel anything else.The door creaked open, and I glanced up just in time to see Henry stepping inside. His face softened the moment he saw me, concern etched into every line of his expression. He walked slowly toward me, as though afraid that too much movement might cause me to break."Hey," he said softly, sitting down on the bed next to me. His presence was calming and familiar, and for a moment, I felt a small spark of warmth.“Hey,”
I was awoken by the soft clinking of china against the tray beside me. At first, the sound felt distant, like it was part of a dream, but as my eyes fluttered open, I was greeted by the golden rays of the morning sun streaming in through the curtains. The warmth of the light made everything feel soft like the world was wrapped in a comforting glow. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness, and then I saw him.Henry was standing by the bed, a small, proud smile playing on his lips as he arranged the tray on the bedside table. His eyes caught mine, and I couldn’t help but smile back. He had asked the maid to prepare breakfast for us, the thoughtful gesture warming me from the inside. The smell of fresh tea and warm croissants filled the room, making the moment feel even more surreal and peaceful.“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Henry whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. His lips lingered for a second longer as if he was savoring the simplicity of the mome
Sitting across from Henry at the small, cozy café, I couldn’t help but smile as the afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden glow. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, the kind of place that made you forget about the world outside. We had been talking about everything and nothing for the past hour, letting time slip by unnoticed as we enjoyed each other's company.Henry looked at me with that familiar warmth in his eyes, his fingers gently playing with the rim of his coffee cup. “You know, Anna, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. The way he said it, like it was a fact he couldn’t help but notice, made my cheeks flush.I let out a small laugh, trying to brush off the compliment, but he wasn’t having it.“No, really,” he continued, leaning in slightly. “You have this light about you. The kind that draws people in. I’ve felt it since the moment I first saw you.”I glanced down at my plate, suddenly feeling shy. "Henry, stop, you’re making me blush.”B
“Welcome back, Miss Anna,” Lydia said, taking the bags from my hands before I could protest. She was always like that—quietly efficient, never allowing me to do too much myself.“Thanks, Lydia. It’s good to be home,” I replied, though my voice felt hollow. Home. This house used to feel like that, but now... now it just felt like an empty shell, haunted by my grandmother’s absence.“I picked up some groceries on the way,” I added as she took my things.“I’ll take care of them,” she said, her hands already full but still moving with that same quiet grace.I was about to head toward my chambers when I heard it—a sound that shouldn’t have been there. A rustling, followed by the faint thud of something heavy being moved. My brows furrowed. It was coming from my grandmother’s chambers.Her room. The room that was supposed to be mine now, but I couldn’t bring myself to move into it. It had been two months since she passed, and I still refused to rearrange the mansion or even touch her belong
I sat quietly beside my mother, watching her frail hands resting on the blanket. There was something unsettling about seeing her so vulnerable. A woman who, once upon a time, was full of life, now appeared fragile and worn. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt rush over me. I should have been here more often. But, then again, when had I ever been good at staying?I was deep in thought when the door opened, and someone stepped inside. I turned my head and froze for a second, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. It was the nurse- that nurse- the one I had been flirting with outside the nurse’s station earlier today.Her name was Jennifer. I’d seen her outside my mother’s room and we’d exchanged flirtatious glances, harmless small talk, and a few compliments. But seeing her now, walking into my mother’s room, caught me off guard.“Well, well, Jennifer,” I said, my voice laced with amusement, “didn’t expect to see you here.”She smiled politely, though her eyes held a flicker of
I stood outside the door for an eternity, my hand shaking before the handle. The last time I visited my mother was brief, awkward, and honestly, unremarkable. It had been Anna who insisted on keeping my mother here, in this place, tho safe, comfortable, well taken care of. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Anna had taken care of so much. More than I deserved, to be honest.Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open gently. The room was beautiful, and tastefully decorated, with nice flowers and warm light spilling from the large window that had the view of the garden. A slight breeze moved the curtains, letting in the faint scent of jasmine. My mother lying in bed with her thin, frail body swallowed by the thick knit blanket draped over her body. She didn’t notice me at first, but when I cleared my throat, she turned, and the surprise in her eyes was… too much.Her gaze locked onto mine, wide with total disbelief, almost as if she were looking at a ghost. I felt a pang of guilt in my che
It had been a while since I’d visited Mrs. Idris, and as I walked through the quiet halls of the nursing home, a heavy sense of guilt settled in the pit of my stomach. The scent of antiseptic mixed with the faint smell of lavender drifted through the air, and I found myself clenching and unclenching my fists to keep my nerves at bay.Mrs. Idris had been under my guardianship ever since her health began to decline. I’d ensured she was taken care of, well-fed, comfortable, and treated with the respect she deserved. But I hadn’t been here as much as I should have lately. With everything happening—my grandmother’s death, the business responsibilities—I had let too much time slip by. I entered her room quietly. The pale yellow curtains let in a soft, golden light that bathed the room in warmth. Mrs. Idris lay on her bed, propped with pillows, her frail frame barely making an impression under the blankets. Her eyes fluttered open as she heard the door click shut.“Mrs. Idris,” I called sof
It had been a week since that unsettling lunch with Henry, where I saw the woman staring at me through the window. The memory still played in my mind, a gnawing discomfort at the back of my thoughts. I hadn't mentioned it to Henry, trying to brush it off as a coincidence, but I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that her eyes were filled with something more than curiosity. Today, however, all of that would come to light.I was sitting in the library, going through some paperwork, when the housekeeper knocked on the door, her voice timid. “Miss Anna, there’s someone at the door asking for you. She says her name is Lara.”I froze, my pen hovering over the page. Lara. The woman from the restaurant. I cleared my throat, setting the papers aside. “Send her in.”As the housekeeper left, my heart raced, my thoughts swirling. What could she possibly want? And why now?Moments later, Lara entered the room. She looked different from that day—worn, perhaps, but with a determined expression. She
Sitting across from Henry at the small, cozy café, I couldn’t help but smile as the afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden glow. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, the kind of place that made you forget about the world outside. We had been talking about everything and nothing for the past hour, letting time slip by unnoticed as we enjoyed each other's company.Henry looked at me with that familiar warmth in his eyes, his fingers gently playing with the rim of his coffee cup. “You know, Anna, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. The way he said it, like it was a fact he couldn’t help but notice, made my cheeks flush.I let out a small laugh, trying to brush off the compliment, but he wasn’t having it.“No, really,” he continued, leaning in slightly. “You have this light about you. The kind that draws people in. I’ve felt it since the moment I first saw you.”I glanced down at my plate, suddenly feeling shy. "Henry, stop, you’re making me blush.”B
I was awoken by the soft clinking of china against the tray beside me. At first, the sound felt distant, like it was part of a dream, but as my eyes fluttered open, I was greeted by the golden rays of the morning sun streaming in through the curtains. The warmth of the light made everything feel soft like the world was wrapped in a comforting glow. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness, and then I saw him.Henry was standing by the bed, a small, proud smile playing on his lips as he arranged the tray on the bedside table. His eyes caught mine, and I couldn’t help but smile back. He had asked the maid to prepare breakfast for us, the thoughtful gesture warming me from the inside. The smell of fresh tea and warm croissants filled the room, making the moment feel even more surreal and peaceful.“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Henry whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. His lips lingered for a second longer as if he was savoring the simplicity of the mome
I sat at the edge of the bed, dressed in the black gown I hadn’t taken off in days. It had been two months since Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, the woman who had been like a mother to me, passed away. And I hadn’t left my room since the funeral. The outside world felt distant, like a memory that no longer belonged to me. My world had shrunk to the size of this room, this bed. I couldn’t shake the hollow emptiness that settled in my chest like a permanent weight. Grief had consumed me, and with each passing day, it grew harder to remember what it was like to feel anything else.The door creaked open, and I glanced up just in time to see Henry stepping inside. His face softened the moment he saw me, concern etched into every line of his expression. He walked slowly toward me, as though afraid that too much movement might cause me to break."Hey," he said softly, sitting down on the bed next to me. His presence was calming and familiar, and for a moment, I felt a small spark of warmth.“Hey,”
"Are you ready, Anna? To serve Samuel his divorce papers?" His voice was gentle as if he could sense my hesitation.I nodded slowly, unable to find the words. This was it. After years of suffering, I was finally taking back my life. The papers felt heavy in my hands, symbolic of every battle I had endured. Every tear, every sleepless night.The maid, standing by the door, glanced at Mr. Mike, awaiting his signal. "Go and call Mr. Samuel. He’s in the guest house," he instructed.I could hear the faint thump of music coming from the guest house, the sound of Samuel’s "good life." The man I had married had turned into a stranger, indulging in the company of others, in everything that had nothing to do with me. I had long since stopped wondering where I went wrong because I knew now—it was never about me.I glanced toward my grandmother, Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, lying weakly in her bed. She had been my rock through all of this, her frail hands still able to hold my spirit together even as