The day had gone from bad to worse.
Samira stood frozen outside Charlie’s office, her mind still reeling from what had just happened. Fired. She’d been fired from her position on the perfume production team. The words felt heavy in her chest, sinking deep into her bones. She tried to swallow down the bitterness, but it stayed there, clinging to her throat. Her career had always been something she held onto with pride. It was the one constant, the one place where she had control, creativity, and respect. But now? Now it was all gone, like smoke dissipating in the wind. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, though. After days of tension with Ray, the lack of communication, and then the trip to the airport that never happened, her focus had slipped. She had been absent from work without notice and made the reckless decision to enter an external competition with a fragrance she’d developed. A side project. It had seemed harmless atAs 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
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
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 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
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
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
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