Ray found himself sitting at a corner table in one of the most upscale restaurants in the city, nursing his third glass of scotch. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The evening had started out as a routine business dinner, a gathering with potential investors to discuss a lucrative new deal. But after a few drinks, Ray couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut, the persistent reminder that something was deeply wrong at home. Samira had been distant for weeks now, almost like a stranger living in his house. He couldn’t get her to open up, couldn’t find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between them. No matter what he said or how much he tried to reassure her, it always seemed like there was an invisible wall standing between them. The investors chatted on, laughing, their conversation buzzing around him like static. Ray’s mind, however, was elsewhere. The whiskey burned as he downed the last of his drink, and for a brief moment, he welcomed the warmth it brought. It was ea
Ray stepped out of Delly’s apartment, his head pounding from both the hangover and the crushing weight of what had just happened. His entire body ached with regret, guilt swirling in his chest like a storm ready to tear him apart. He couldn’t believe what he had allowed to happen, what he had done. The cold morning air did little to clear the fog in his mind, the realization of his mistake bearing down on him like a physical weight. As he hurried down the steps, pulling his phone from his jacket, Ray felt his heart race. The first person he thought of was Samira. Guilt knifed through him again as her face flashed in his mind—the woman he loved, the woman he had betrayed. He had to get home, had to find a way to fix this mess before it got any worse. But as soon as he unlocked his phone, a barrage of missed calls and notifications lit up the screen. His stomach lurched. Most of them were from Mike and several other business contacts, but one message stood out—the one from Samira's pa
Ray sat motionless in the hospital chair, his body slumped forward, elbows resting on his knees, his head buried in his hands. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a sickly glow over everything in the ICU. Time seemed to stretch and contract in strange, disjointed intervals—he couldn’t tell how long he had been sitting there, waiting. Waiting for news that would either break him or bring a small glimmer of hope. Samira had just undergone an emergency surgery as a last, desperate attempt to save her life. Ray had barely caught the doctor's words as they rushed her into the operating room, the sounds of alarms and the frantic shuffle of nurses ringing in his ears. It had all blurred together, becoming just another wave of horror in a day that already felt unbearable. He had spent the entirety of the surgery in a fog, pacing the narrow waiting area, replaying the events of the last few days in his mind. The scandal, the betrayal, his drunken mistake with Delly it al
Early that afternoon, rain pattered softly against the window, the rhythm echoing the pounding of Samira Wiley’s heart. She stood by the counter of the boutique in Brookside City, rearranging an already perfect display of silk scarves. The routine was a welcome distraction from her thoughts. Her reflection in the glass revealed a young woman of twenty-two, with tired eyes but a determined spirit. Life had not been kind, but she had persevered.Samira’s thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of the door chime. She turned to see her childhood friend, Delly Thompson, striding in with her usual flair. Delly, the embodiment of charisma and confidence, drew eyes wherever she went. Her glossy, auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her emerald green dress clung to her figure like a second skin. Delly had been adopted from the orphanage at sixteen, thrust into a life of luxury and socialite events, while Samira remained behind, working to support the orphanage that had been the
New Jersey City Clothed in one of Delly's expensive dresses, Samira walked out of the airport. She still couldn't believe that she was in this kind of situation, acting like a winning actress of the year, taking on the role of Delly. Just yesterday, she was in the boutique attending to customers, and now here she was, in another city, far from home. The whole thing began to feel scary, and she was deciding whether to leave or stay when a man dressed in black approached her. "You must be Miss Delly?" the man asked. She nodded. "I am Mike, head of the security team to Mr. Rays, your fiancé. I have been ordered to accompany you to the hotel," Mike said, showing her a card to verify his statement. She followed him and got into the Mercedes he had driven to the airport. In the car, she took off her glasses and stared at the city of Brookside. All her life, she had lived in one place. She never had the time or money to travel, but now here she was, doing just that. She smiled to
Together they walked into the restaurant, it was located at the far end of the city, near a lake, the atmosphere was cool, no wonder he'd chosen that place as there first date place, and as soon as he entered, two waiters quickly approached, guiding them to their table. "Let me take your coat, Miss," one of the waiters said. Knowing the daring dress she wore underneath, she hesitated to give it to him. She was about to refuse when she noticed a man at a nearby table staring at her. With an idea forming, she decided to take off the coat, challenging Chris with her gaze. From her periphery, she saw the man lustfully eyeing her body. Smiling to herself, she thought her third act would surely work. As she sat down, she noticed Ray's eyes fixated on her cleavage. Trying to act nonchalant, she picked up the menu and pretended to peruse it. Why is he staring at me like that? Does he really want to marry me? she wondered, finally choosing a dish. "Did you wear this dress for me?" he a
When they were about to arrive at the Grand Hotel, Samira was still lost in the kiss. It wasn’t until Ray announced their almost arrival that she snapped back to reality, immediately feeling a surge of panic and anger. She remembered she wasn't the real Delly and couldn't have kissed him back. "Didn't you do all of this to tease me?" he asked for the second time, and Samira stared at him in silence. Her mission to do things that men hate and make him dislike her hadn't worked. Instead, it only seemed to make him more determined to marry her. When she took too long to answer, he took hold of her hand, trying to pull her into his arms again. She pushed him away forcefully. "I'm not teasing you, nor am I trying to turn you on. I'm actually hoping for the opposite," she yelled at him. "Opposite being?" he prompted, clearly enjoying the confrontation. "That you cancel this whole marriage nonsense! I don't want to marry you," she retorted, her frustration boiling over. Instead
IN THE AFTERNOON~ Dressed in a modest black knee-length dress, Samira walked down the stairs. She hoped her conservative outfit would make Chris think twice about pursuing her. As she was about to leave, Mike stopped her. "You look lovely," he commented. "Lovely enough to make your boss lose interest in me," she replied, half-jokingly. "Why? Didn't you like going out with him last night?" he queried. "I didn't, and I want to put an end to this. I don't like your boss, Mike. He frightens me," Samira confessed, sharing her own feelings rather than what Delly would have said. Mike, looking at her seriously, she had spoken matter-of-fact. "You can't call it off with the boss. You've got to make it work with him." "Why? Why can't I call it off with him? Just what are you keeping from me?" Samira asked, her curiosity piqued. Mike was about to reply when Delly called her. Mike collected her things and took them to the car while she followed. She noticed the manager staring at her
Ray sat motionless in the hospital chair, his body slumped forward, elbows resting on his knees, his head buried in his hands. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a sickly glow over everything in the ICU. Time seemed to stretch and contract in strange, disjointed intervals—he couldn’t tell how long he had been sitting there, waiting. Waiting for news that would either break him or bring a small glimmer of hope. Samira had just undergone an emergency surgery as a last, desperate attempt to save her life. Ray had barely caught the doctor's words as they rushed her into the operating room, the sounds of alarms and the frantic shuffle of nurses ringing in his ears. It had all blurred together, becoming just another wave of horror in a day that already felt unbearable. He had spent the entirety of the surgery in a fog, pacing the narrow waiting area, replaying the events of the last few days in his mind. The scandal, the betrayal, his drunken mistake with Delly it al
Ray stepped out of Delly’s apartment, his head pounding from both the hangover and the crushing weight of what had just happened. His entire body ached with regret, guilt swirling in his chest like a storm ready to tear him apart. He couldn’t believe what he had allowed to happen, what he had done. The cold morning air did little to clear the fog in his mind, the realization of his mistake bearing down on him like a physical weight. As he hurried down the steps, pulling his phone from his jacket, Ray felt his heart race. The first person he thought of was Samira. Guilt knifed through him again as her face flashed in his mind—the woman he loved, the woman he had betrayed. He had to get home, had to find a way to fix this mess before it got any worse. But as soon as he unlocked his phone, a barrage of missed calls and notifications lit up the screen. His stomach lurched. Most of them were from Mike and several other business contacts, but one message stood out—the one from Samira's pa
Ray found himself sitting at a corner table in one of the most upscale restaurants in the city, nursing his third glass of scotch. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The evening had started out as a routine business dinner, a gathering with potential investors to discuss a lucrative new deal. But after a few drinks, Ray couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut, the persistent reminder that something was deeply wrong at home. Samira had been distant for weeks now, almost like a stranger living in his house. He couldn’t get her to open up, couldn’t find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between them. No matter what he said or how much he tried to reassure her, it always seemed like there was an invisible wall standing between them. The investors chatted on, laughing, their conversation buzzing around him like static. Ray’s mind, however, was elsewhere. The whiskey burned as he downed the last of his drink, and for a brief moment, he welcomed the warmth it brought. It was ea
The news about her and Ray hit the gossipy Media like a storm. Ray was a well-known figure in the business world, his every move was always scrutinized by the press. And now, after a long period of silence about his personal life, a major media outlet had somehow gotten wind of his marriage to Samira. The story was everywhere—headlines speculating about their relationship, photos of them together at romantic hotels, there were also wild rumors about family drama, and, of course, the inevitable speculation about when they would start a family since they were already married for over a year now. Samira hadn’t been prepared for any of it. She had left the house that evening to find her peace of mind because the house had felt kind of stuffy, she sat on the park bench, seeking some solitude. The cool breeze carried with it a fleeting sense of peace as she closed her eyes, trying to block out the world. For a moment, she felt distant from everything. But peace was a luxury she didn’t ge
The days after Elena’s departure felt like an eerie calm. Samira had managed to keep up her polite, dutiful wife routine while Elena was around, even engaging in brief touches and stolen kisses with Ray, all under Elena’s watchful eyes. It was like playing a role on a stage, a performance they both had to give. But now that Elena was gone, the façade crumbled. It started small. Samira found herself flinching when Ray reached for her hand at night, instinctively pulling away. She couldn’t even explain why it happened. His touch—once familiar, warm, and reassuring—now felt foreign, almost repulsive. Each time he tried to kiss her, she felt nothing, no flutter in her stomach, no soft warmth spreading across her chest like it used to. There was just… nothing. She would lie awake at night, Ray's arm draped across her waist, his breaths soft against her neck, and wonder when things had changed so much. There had been a time when his presence made her feel safe, cherished. Now, it was suff
Ray lay on his side of the bed that night, keeping a deliberate distance from Samira. The room was silent except for the faint sound of the ceiling fan turning slowly above them. The air between them felt heavier than it ever had, weighed down by unspoken words and lingering doubts. Samira could sense the tension in Ray's body, the way he kept his back to her, as if touching her might shatter the fragile peace they had managed to hold onto since that call. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with the memory of Delly’s video and Ray’s promise that he had never lied to her. A part of her wanted to believe him, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw that look on his face in the video—comfortable, intimate, with Delly. It didn’t add up, but for now, Samira told herself to trust him, no matter how much it hurt to push the doubt aside. The days that followed were quiet. Ray left for work early and returned late, and although they shared meals together, the words between them w
Samira’s hands trembled as she set her phone down on the table, her mind swirling in a storm of confusion and betrayal. She had wanted to believe Ray, to hold onto the warmth of his proposal, the hope of a future filled with love and forgiveness. But now looking at Delly’s video, she felt like she was free-falling into a dark chasm, that made her unable to catch herself. The room she was currently in felt suffocating, She paced back and forth in the living room, as her footsteps echoed in the silence. Everything in her screamed for answers, for a confrontation, but at the same time, she feared what she might uncover if she pushed too hard. Finally, Samira sank down onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. How could Ray do this to her? Hadn’t they been through enough already? The short memories of their fights, their moments of reconciliation, the promises made—and broken—appeared to be just a farce. And now, just when she had started to believe in him again, to trust in their
Ray had always envisioned a grand proposal, one that would sweep Samira off her feet, leaving her breathless and undeniably sure that he was her forever. But as the plane descended back into the city, he realized that what mattered most wasn’t the grandeur, but the sincerity. Samira wasn’t the kind of woman who needed extravagant displays of love; she needed honesty, commitment, and a promise that he would be by her side, no matter how rocky the road got. When Ray finally made it back to their shared home, he found Samira sitting in the living room, lost in her thoughts. Her gaze was fixed out the window, and he couldn’t help but feel the sadness around her considering she'd just lost a competition and her job. But tonight, he was determined to change that. “Hey,” he said softly as he entered the room. Samira turned her head slightly but didn’t fully meet his eyes. “You’re back,” she said quietly, her tone neutral, revealing nothing of what she was feeling. Ray sat beside her on
As Samira pushed through the heavy glass doors of Joey's company, the cool breeze from outside kissed her flushed skin, offering a momentary reprieve from the heat bubbling inside her. Fired. She couldn't get that word out of her head. It echoed over and over, like a cruel joke that she couldn't escape. She clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to steady her racing heart. But just as she was about to make her way to where she'd parked the new mountain bike she'd chosen to drive today, since the day she bought it with Ray's credit cards, her eyes landed on a familiar figure standing by the entrance—a tall, elegant woman with dark hair tied neatly into a bun. Her posture was regal, her gaze sharp, and her lips set in a soft, knowing smile. Elena. Ray's mother. Samira's chest tightened. Of all the people she wanted to avoid today, Elena ranked high on the list. But there was no turning back now. She forced a smile onto her face as she approach