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He should come to her.
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2024-09-09 12:38:16As Ray turned his back to take the call, Samira felt a rush of cold air hit her skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of their stolen heat moment. The door pressed hard against her back feeling like the hardest contact she'd ever got into, and she stood there rooted to the ground, her breath still catching in her throat, her body humming with the remnants of Ray's touch. Yet, the room felt suddenly too small for her liking, the walls had started closing in as the weight of reality settled heavily on her shoulders.
Samira wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the emptiness where Ray’s touch had been. The bed sheet lay forgotten at her feet, and she couldn’t bring herself to move, couldn’t bring herself to gather the fabric that had been her only shield moments before. Instead, she watched Ray—his posture tense, his voice low and serious—completely immersed in the conversation that was worlds away from the two of them. His brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line asRelated chapters
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Samira walked slowly down the dimly lit street, the chill of the evening air biting at her cheeks. The day had stretched longer than she’d planned, her thoughts wrapped tightly around the image of Ray and Lila in the hotel lounge. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them leaning in close, their conversation just out of earshot but so full of unspoken familiarity. It wasn’t the first time Ray’s work had come between them, but this felt different. Lila wasn’t just business; she was poised, confident, and everything Samira feared she wasn’t. Even with the excitement of being chosen as a finalist in the Global Perfume Creation Competition, Samira couldn’t shake the feeling that Ray’s world was moving on without her. She fumbled with her keys as she approached the front door of their home, her hands shaking with a mix of anger and exhaustion. The lock clicked, and she stepped inside, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The apartment was dark, save for
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Samira stood at the edge of the Seine, her fingers brushing against the delicate fabric of her gown as she gazed at the glittering lights of Paris. It was the night she had dreamed of, the culmination of months of hard work, late nights, and restless mornings. The final round of the perfume competition was tomorrow, and she was here, standing in the city of lights, her future hanging in the balance. Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t shake the weight on her chest—the remnants of everything unresolved between her and Ray. She inhaled deeply, trying to draw in the calmness of the evening, but it felt forced, like she was pushing away the storm brewing inside her. Samira had spent so long chasing this dream, fighting for her place in a world that often felt like it had no room for her. And now that she was here, the silence was deafening. The soft hum of her phone pulled her back to the moment. Mike had texted her, asking how things were going. She smiled faintly at his concern. He had
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Ray’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at the figure standing across the room. Delly. He blinked, his mind struggling to catch up with the surprise of seeing her here. She was the last person he expected to see in Paris, let alone in the middle of the most important night of Samira’s life. Samira, for her part, was completely blindsided. Of all the people to appear, it had to be Delly—her friend, the one who had dragged her into the mess with Ray in the first place. The one who had asked her to impersonate her on the night Ray had proposed, insisting she turn him down on Delly’s behalf. Samira had agreed, partly because she hadn’t thought much of Ray at the time and partly because she had felt loyal to Delly. But now, standing here, her heart pounding in her chest as she faced both Ray and Delly in the same room, she felt her world tilt dangerously out of control. Ray recovered first, his eyes narrowing in on Delly. He hadn’t seen her in years, not since that fateful night w
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Samira stood frozen on the stage, the sound of applause fading into the background as the announcer’s voice reverberated in her ears. “The winner is… Sabine Lafleur!” The crowd erupted, but Samira barely registered it. Her heart plummeted as she tried to keep her face neutral. The room blurred around her, and suddenly, the weight of everything crashed down on her shoulders. She had lost. She wasn't even amongst the first three, not even the top ten. She was supposed to be happy for Sabine, but all Samira could feel was a deep ache gnawing at her insides. This competition had meant everything. She’d worked tirelessly for years, sacrificing so much just to prove to herself whenever an opportunity comes her way, she'd just gotten that opportunity when she joined , and maybe to prove to Ray, that she was worth something—beyond the tangled mess of impersonation and lies that had bound them together. And now… now she had nothing. Her body moved automatically, a forced smile plastered
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Ray had been silent for most of the drive since they left the backstage, but his hand never left Samira's hand, he was gripping it as if he could transfer his strength to her. The lights of Paris flickered past the window, but Samira barely noticed. Her thoughts were a tangled mess of emotions—fear, doubt, and that ever-present ache of uncertainty about her place in Ray's life. The city of love held little comfort tonight, and even Ray’s touch, felt heavy with everything unsaid between them.They arrived at his suite in one of Paris’s grandest hotels, a place that exuded elegance and understated luxury. The doorman greeted them with a polite nod as they stepped inside, the warm glow of chandeliers bathing the lobby in a soft golden light. Ray guided her to the private elevator, and as the doors slid closed, the silence between them grew thicker.When they finally reached the penthouse, Samira could hardly bring herself to appreciate the breathtaking view of the Eiffel Tower that gree
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Ray’s smile vanished completely when he saw the image on Samira's phone. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened with concern. He stepped closer, dropping down the towel from around his neck and sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. "Samira," he began, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "I was going to tell you about the ring. I left it in Canada during my last business trip after our wedding, but I had planned to get it back. I had no idea who has it now, or how it ended up in someone else’s hands." He searched her face, trying to gauge her reaction, but she remained stone-faced. Samira's fingers clenched around the phone as she studied his expression. There was something genuine about the way he said it. His voice didn’t waver, and his body language remained calm, during other times Ray would have asked her if she was jealous, but at the moment she could clearly see he wasn't feigning, but her trust was fragile—frayed at the edges by d
Last Updated : 2024-09-23
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
In between kisses I whisper What did you show her?
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
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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
In between kisses I whisper back to her
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
