“No, it’s not!” Kara snaps.“You come here, uninvited, and demand I help Fiona? And you expect me to be okay with it? After all the crap you’ve pulled? You’ve badmouthed Amanda—yeah, I know about that—because you don’t like me and she is my best friend. You’ve criticized every decision I’ve ever made, and now you think I owe you?”“Don't forget, I'm sick too. And you're the contributors.”Her mother stands abruptly, her hands trembling slightly. “That’s not our fault. We didn’t do it on purpose.”“Yeah, but it's true that you caused it. Double standard. Treat Fiona and me differently, right?”The room falls silent for a moment, the tension so thick Amanda feels like she can’t breathe.Even though it's Kara's family business, Amanda feels like she should say something.She couldn't interject just now, but
Kara’s parents look stunned, their faces a mix of anger and disbelief.Amanda doesn’t waver, meeting their gazes head-on.Kara breaks the silence, her voice quiet but firm. “She’s right. You’ve done enough damage. I’ve had enough.”She stands, moving to Amanda’s side, her posture strong despite the tremor in her hands.“Get out.”Her mother sputters. “Kara, we’re trying to help—”“No,” Kara says, cutting her off. “You’re not. You never have. Now leave.”Her father looks like he’s about to argue, but something in Kara’s expression stops him. He grabs his coat and heads for the door, her mother trailing behind him.As the door slams shut, Kara sinks onto the sofa, her face pale but determined. Amanda sits beside her, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.“You didn’t ha
Amanda stays a whole day in Kara’s house.The sun is setting as she steps out, the soft glow casting warm hues across the quiet street.The day has been long but strangely soothing—a much-needed pause after everything that’s happened lately.She tightens her scarf against the crisp evening air, feeling the faint scent of the incense still lingering on her coat.Sliding into the driver’s seat, Amanda takes a moment before starting the car.The leather of the steering wheel is cold against her fingers.She glances back at Kara’s house.Through the window, she catches a glimpse of her friend, curled up on the sofa, the faint glow of the lit incense stick flickering in the dim room.Amanda smiles softly to herself.It looks like she comes at the right time today.As the engine hums to life, Amanda adjusts the rear-view mirror.The drive bac
He looks down, his voice breaking slightly. “You left, and I thought I’d get used to it. But I haven’t. I can’t. Every moment you’re gone, I think about you. About us. And I realized… I love you, Amanda. I always have. I was just too blind, too stupid to see it.”Riley looks back at her, his eyes pleading. “I know I’ve been awful. I know I don’t deserve another chance. But I want to change. I will change. Please… don’t divorce me. Let me try to make this right.”“Please give me a chance to make it up to you.”Amanda looks away, her gaze flicking to the roses, then back to Riley’s face.“And I hope you can meet some of my friends—Rex, Shawn, even Faye. I want you to be part of every part of my life.”He pauses, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I know I’ve got a lot to
“Why? You don't want to be beholden to me?”“No, of course it's not because of this. Just because it's not working for us anymore.”Riley gives a puzzled look. “What does that mean?”“I’ve already took Kara to Dr. Hayes a long time ago.” Amanda explains.Riley stares at Amanda, her words settling heavily between them like a stone dropped in still water.“You already saw Dr. Hayes?” Riley repeats her words again, his voice barely above a whisper.Amanda nods, her fingers lightly resting on the edge of the table. “Yes, about a half year ago? Kara had her first appointment shortly after I called you.”Riley’s brow furrows as fragments of memory begin piecing themselves together.He remembers that phone call vividly now.He had been in a hotel room on a business trip, rushing to prepare for a major client meeting. At the tim
Riley feels the weight of her words settle into his chest.He looks down at the roses he has brought, now resting on the table between them.They seem ridiculous, almost insulting, in the face of everything Amanda has endured.“Is there nothing I can do?” he asks softly, his voice barely audible.Amanda stands, smoothing her hands over her dress.“You can let me go,” she said gently. “That’s what you can do, Riley. Let me live the life I’ve built for myself.”Riley lowers his head and doesn’t speak for a long time.Amanda ignores him and walks into the room.A few minutes later, she walks out of the room, a necklace in her hand.She hands Riley the necklace and says, “Give it back to you. It’s yours.”Riley looks up, surprised, at the necklace in Amanda's hand. “This—”“Maybe you don't rem
Riley bites his lip gently. He’s thinking about how to explain their relationship.He thinks about the photo Amanda has posted to insta—that mysterious man.He also remembers what Rex and Shawn has said to him.Riley takes a deep breath. His fingers clutch at his pants.“I wonder if... you can give me a moment,” he begins. “to talk about Faye.”Amanda sits upright and gently pushes her hair back off her forehead. And then she nods to Riley to show she’s listening.“Sure.” She answers.He exhales slowly, trying to find the right way to say it. “Do you know how my mum passed away?”Amanda freezes for a moment, giving Riley a sad look.She shakes her head slowly.It suddenly hit Riley that Amanda had asked him about his mom a few years ago but he didn’t tell her.He lowers his eyelids, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It was a air cr
Still, life doesn’t pause for reflection, and Riley forces himself to carry on.Determined to find a solution, he resolves to speak with Shawn and Rex, hoping their perspectives might offer clarity.But before he can arrange a time, his butler, Mr. Harris, calls to inform him that the villa’s cleaning has been completed.It has been a while since Riley last set foot in the villa.Ever since Amanda moved out, he’s only been back a handful of times.The place feels empty, too vast for one person, and its silence is oppressive.Riley has avoided it whenever possible, preferring the comfort of his more modest city apartment.Now, with the villa cleaned, he decides it’s time to return.Mr. Harris mentions something peculiar before ending the call.The janitors had discovered a few items in the rubbish bin that didn’t look like trash. Uncertain about what
From the beginning, there were signs their relationship wouldn’t last. Riley was distant, even cold at times. Amanda gave everything to make it work, hoping her love would be enough.She prepared his favorite meals, listened patiently to his complaints, and stayed up late to help him prepare for meetings. Riley never acknowledged her efforts.He never remembered her birthday unless she reminded him. When she brought him coffee, he didn’t look up from his laptop. And when she smiled at him across the dinner table, he barely glanced her way.Amanda told herself this was just who Riley was. He wasn’t expressive, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.She clung to the tiny moments of happiness they shared. The time he brushed a strand of hair from her face without saying a word. The rare evenings they spent watching TV together, his arm loosely draped over her shoulder.But those moments were like drops of water in a vast desert.One night, Amanda sat at her desk, staring at a sticky not
Amanda was left standing in the wreckage of a life she no longer recognized. She wasn’t even an adult yet.While other kids her age were worrying about exams or crushes, Amanda was learning how to survive.She remembered how everything felt hollow during those days. Her life turned into something flat and lifeless, like a piece of paper too thin to hold any weight. Most of the time, it felt like she was floating in a gray fog, detached from the world around her.There were days when she doubted everything—herself, her purpose, her reason for existing. She questioned why she was alive, why she had been given so much only to have it ripped away. She cried until there were no tears left, screamed at the universe in her empty room, and then cried again.But through it all, she survived.Amanda’s gaze drops to her drink as she swirls the ice again, her grip tightening slightly. She remembers how, even in the darkest moments, there were small lights. Friends who stayed by her side, eve
Fiona looks down at her drink, swirling the remaining liquid. Her lips press into a thin line.She decides to stop thinking about Amanda. Maybe they just don’t get along—it happens sometimes, she tells herself. Not everyone has to like everyone.Amanda, on the other hand, barely notices Fiona’s mood. Her thoughts are elsewhere.That familiar figure she thought she saw earlier still lingers in her mind. She glances around the bar again, scanning the crowd, but there’s no sign of anyone who looks like Riley.She shakes her head and lets out a quiet breath, trying to dismiss the idea. Riley couldn’t possibly be here. It must have been a trick of the light, or maybe just her imagination playing with her.There’s no way it was him. She’s sure of it.The crowd around the pool table finally starts to break up, their excitement fading into quieter conversations and laughter.Amanda doesn&r
Grace is the first to react.She lets out a cheer and rushes over to Amanda, throwing her arms around her. “You were amazing!” she exclaims, her voice loud and full of pride.Amanda laughs, hugging her back. Her cheeks are flushed, but it’s not from embarrassment—it’s from exhilaration.Around Amanda, the crowd gathers, clapping and congratulating her.For a moment, Amanda allows herself to bask in the attention, her smile wide and unrestrained.Henry walks over, cue stick in hand. He’s smiling, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He extends a hand to Amanda.“Great game,” he says, his tone easygoing. “You’re really good. Where’d you learn to play like that?”Amanda shakes his hand, her grip firm. “Just practice,” she replies simply. “Guess it paid off.”Henry nods, though he can’t shake the strange feelin
Amanda shakes the thought away, forcing herself to refocus on the game.But the memory lingers. It takes her back to when Riley first taught her how to play pool.It was early in their marriage, during one of his rare evenings off. He had laughed as he guided her hands on the cue stick, explaining the basic rules.“It’s all about precision,” he’d said, his tone light but firm. “Think like you’re playing chess, but faster.”Back then, Amanda had thrown herself into learning, desperate to connect with him in any way she could. Riley loved pool, and Amanda had wanted to love it too—just like how she’d taken golf lessons to keep up with his hobbies.But their lives grew busier, and Riley grew more distant. Pool became just another forgotten thing, one more piece of him she could never quite reach.Yet, Amanda never gave up.She hired a coach, practicing un
Grace stands frozen for a moment.Amanda’s expression and tone take her back to their university days. It feels like she’s seeing the old Amanda again—the one who stood confidently in front of large crowds, fearless and full of energy.She remembers how Amanda led their debate team, always believing she could bring victory to her side.Grace breaks into a big smile.Suddenly, she doesn’t care anymore—winning or losing, none of it matters. Henry, Fiona—all of that feels unimportant now.What truly matters is this: Amanda has found her way back.Grace had invited Amanda to the bar to help her relax, meet new people, and maybe forget her troubles for a while.She just wanted Amanda to have a break, even if it meant using alcohol to dull her pain.She knew how much Amanda had loved Riley, and even though Amanda had decided to divorce him, Grace was scared that
Fiona shifts slightly in her seat, her fingers lightly drumming on the stem of her wine glass. She takes a slow sip, her gaze lingering on Amanda, though she pretends to focus on Henry instead.The conversation flows easily around her, Amanda’s voice carrying the kind of warmth and confidence that seems to draw everyone in.“Well,” Fiona says suddenly, cutting into the conversation. Her tone is light, but there’s a faint edge to it.“It’s great that you get to be so creative, Amanda. I really envy you for having that kind of freedom.” She pauses, tilting her head slightly and giving a practiced smile. “I hope one day I can earn that for myself—doing something I truly love.”It seems that Fiona doesn’t know Amanda at all. Amanda can see it from Fiona’s expression and words.So Amanda decides to pretend it’s the first time that she meets Fiona.Amanda tur
Amanda notices that Fiona’s gaze darts between Henry and her. Then Fiona's eyes linger on her for a long timeAmanda can feel Fiona’s gaze on her, even though she doesn’t look directly at her. The dim lighting of the bar can’t hide that kind of intensity.It’s the kind of look that burns—not in admiration, but in jealousy.Amanda knows it well.She doesn’t react.She’s learned not to.Attention, whether kind or cruel, has been a constant in her life.Back in school, she was one of those girls people naturally gravitated toward. Friends liked her wit and warmth, and boys—well, they liked her for other reasons.Almost all she felt at that time was kindness, and it seemed that the little bit of unkindness was drowned in the warm atmosphere around her.But what truly steeled her were her parents’ death and the five years she spent as Ri
Amanda moves through her day with quiet focus, the kind that comes from a well-worn routine. After finishing her breakfast, she spends the morning packaging orders for her online shop, carefully wrapping intense and candles in tissue paper before sliding them into sturdy boxes. She puts small thank-you notes in the box for each customer, her handwriting looping neatly across the cards.By noon, her workspace smells faintly of bitter orange and bergamot. She’s used to use different scent every day, which lets her creative juice flow.She tidies up and grabs her sketchpad, settling into the sunny corner of her living room. The hours slip by as she draws, her pencil tracing the contours of imagined landscapes and whimsical florals.Occasionally, she breaks away from her work. Some days, she packs a small bag and heads out on a solo trip. She’s visited nearby towns, strolled through markets, and even spent a quiet weekend hiking in the hills. These short getaways recharge her, filli