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He should come to her.
As 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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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
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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
In between kisses I whisper Is he a kisser
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
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