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
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