CHAPTER 15ANNAThe team of nurses comes in to take my father’s body to the mortuary. It feels like a dream as a lot has happened to me during the past few days. My life has shattered right before me and I am finding it hard to come to terms with it.“Hey Anna, please stop crying. Everything will be fine. I am here with you. Your Dad is in Heaven watching over you.”Lola consoles me as she pulls me into an embrace. I haven’t been able to stop crying but her words give me hope.I sit and Lola follows suit with sadness all over her face. “Thank you, Lola, I appreciate you being here with me. Your presence gives me hope that everything will be fine with me”.“That’s fine Anna. I am glad that you find solicit in my company. I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. I am your best friend don’t forget that.” she reassures me again.I embrace my friend like my life depends on it. “You’ll be fine Anna”, Lola wipes my tears and smiles at me.“What’s it, Lola? I ask as she gives me a m
CHAPTER 16DAMIENI make the necessary arrangements for the burial with the help of Dr.Lambert before I head back home.I have to get a new driver now as Mr Smith is no more since I don’t enjoy driving myself.I get home and Miss Rosie welcomes me with a big smile on her face. She doesn’t know about the passing of Mr.Smith yet. I feel like a bad person at the moment as I am about to break the news to her.“Hey my boy, how was your day? You’re a little bit late today,” she says.“Miss Rosie, my day was not a good one. I am stressed as I have a lot going on right now,| I complain to her.“You this boy, I know you’re complaining because you have been driving yourself these past few days. Don’t worry Mr Smith will be fine soon,” she tells me with much hope.I take in a deep breath, “That won’t be possible anymore, Miss Rosie.”“What do you mean by that, my boy?” she asks sounding confused.“Mr.Smith is no more. He died earlier today at the hospital.” I inform her in a low tone.“Oh my godde
CHAPTER 17 ANNAAs I step into the house, an eerie silence greets me. Once neat and inviting, the living room now looks like a war zone.The coffee table is overturned, and the cushions from the sofa are slashed open, foam spilling out. Picture frames of my parents lie shattered, their glass fragments glinting menacingly in the dim light. I move slowly, my heart pounding, noticing the gaping emptiness where the television and other electronics used to be.In the kitchen, cabinet doors hang open, and broken dishes litter the countertops and floor. The refrigerator door is wide open, its contents hastily ransacked. I step over the debris, feeling anger and sadness wash over me.As I head upstairs, my footfalls echo in the unsettling quiet. The bedrooms are no better; closets are emptied, and clothes and personal belongings are tossed carelessly around. I pause at the doorway of the master bedroom, seeing the open safe with its contents missing.The sense of violation is overwhelming. I
CHAPTER 18ANNAThe morning light filters softly through the curtains, waking me gently from my slumber. I forget where I am for a moment, but the cozy surroundings quickly remind me of Lola’s guest bedroom. I stretch and sit up, feeling more rested than I have in days.I swing my legs over the side of the bed and slip into my slippers. The house is quiet, and I can hear the faint chirping of birds outside. It’s a peaceful sound, a stark contrast to the turmoil of yesterday. I gather my things and head to the bathroom down the hall to freshen up.After a quick shower, I make my way downstairs. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greets me, mingling with the scent of something delicious cooking. I follow the smells to the kitchen, where I find Lola at the stove, flipping pancakes."Good morning," she says with a bright smile. "I hope you slept well.""I did, thank you. This smells amazing," I reply, taking a seat at the kitchen island.Lola hands me a steaming mug of coffee. "I thought
CHAPTER 19ANNAThe day of the funeral dawns gray and sad as if the sky itself mourns my father’s passing. I stand at the entrance of St. Mary’s Church, feeling the chill in the air seep into my bones. Friends and family mill around, their faces etched with sorrow, sharing quiet condolences and supportive hugs.Inside, the church is filled with the soft strains of Beethoven, the music echoing through the vaulted ceilings. The scent of lilies and roses fills the air, their white petals starkly contrasting to the darkness I feel inside. I take a deep breath and step forward, my heart heavy with grief. Damien really sorted everything as he said and I am grateful.As I walk down the aisle with Lola, I see my father’s casket at the front of the church, draped in a simple, elegant cloth. Tears blur my vision, and I feel Damien’s stare on me. Lola holds my hand, gently squeezing it, reminding me that I’m not alone.We take our seats in the front row, and I can feel the weight of everyone’s ey
CHAPTER 20ANNAThe next morning, I wake up to a house that feels too quiet, too still. The weight of yesterday hangs heavily in the air, and I don’t move for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. It takes a few seconds to remember where I am—Lola’s guest room.I pull myself out of bed, every movement slow and heavy. The sunlight filters weakly through the curtains, casting a dull glow on the walls. It doesn’t feel like a new day; it feels like a continuation of the one before, as if time is stuck in the same endless loop of grief.I shuffle to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are puffy, red-rimmed, and exhausted. I barely recognize the person looking back at me. It’s like I’ve aged years in a day.When I finally step into the hallway, I hear the faint clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen. Lola’s already up, of course—she’s always been the early riser, the one who keeps things together. The smell of coffee drifts throug
ANNAI walk into the wedding planner's office with a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. Damien is already there, sitting stiffly in one of the plush chairs, his jaw set in a hard line. He barely glances up when I enter, his focus fixed on the wedding planner’s notes spread out on the table.“Glad you could finally make it,” he says, his tone clipped. The wedding planner, a petite woman with perfectly coiffed hair and a bright smile, looks up at me with a warm greeting, but I can barely muster a nod in return.I take a seat beside Damien, the tension between us palpable. My hands tremble as I reach for the glass of water in front of me, trying to steady my nerves. The planner starts going over the agenda, her voice chirpy and professional, but all I can hear is the echo of Damien's harsh words from our phone call.“We’ve got a lot to cover today,” the planner says, flipping through her notes. “First, let’s finalize the guest list. We need to make sure everyone important is includ
DAMIENI sit across from Anna in the wedding planner’s office, barely listening to whatever nonsense is being discussed. My mind is elsewhere—on the mess of this whole situation, on how suffocating it’s all become. She’s staring at me, I can feel it, but I refuse to meet her gaze. What’s the point? Every time I look at her, I see the weight of everything she’s been through, and it just drags me down.Then the planner’s phone buzzes, and I watch as she glances at the screen. Her face pales instantly, and she stammers something before pushing the phone across the table toward Anna. I keep my expression neutral. Whatever this is, I’ll deal with it like I always do.Anna’s hand shakes as she picks up the phone, and for a second, I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. But as soon as she reads the message, She looks at me like I’m some monster, and maybe I am, but I’m not about to grovel.“What is it?” I ask, my tone flat, completely unbothered. She whispers something about it being about m
ANNAThe cold air bites at my cheeks as I step out of the terminal at JFK Airport, clutching my suitcase. The New York skyline looms in the distance, a strange mixture of awe and dread settling over me. Ian’s text with his address burns in my mind. My hands tremble slightly as I hail a cab.Was this the right decision?Doubt claws at me, but I shove it aside. Damien doesn’t care. He hasn’t cared for a long time or so I tell myself. The memory of his angry eyes last night twists something deep in my chest, but I force myself to breathe. This is about me now. About starting over.The cab ride feels endless, and when it finally pulls up to a towering building, my stomach churns. Nicholas’s directions lead me to a penthouse suite, the opulence of the place making me hesitate for a moment before knocking.The door swings open almost immediately, and there he is Nicholas, looking as polished as ever in a tailored suit, his dark eyes sharp and calculating."Anna," he greets, his lips curlin
DAMIENThe moment I read Anna’s message, my entire world shifts."Don’t bother coming home tonight. I won’t be here when you do."The words burn in my mind as I grab my car keys and race out of the office. Every mile I drive feels like a lifetime, the thought of her leaving consuming me. She can’t leave. Not like this. Not without me setting things right.My tyres screech as I pull into the driveway, the house eerily silent. The lights are on, but the emptiness screams louder than words. I storm inside, calling out her name."Anna!"No answer.I head upstairs, my chest tightening as I push open the bedroom door. The sight stops me cold. Her side of the closet is half-empty, drawers open and rifled through. A suitcase is gone. My heart pounds.She’s gone."Miss Rosie!" I bellow, my voice echoing through the halls.My appears at the bottom of the stairs, her face pinched with worry. "Damien, what’s wrong?"I take the steps two at a time, reaching her in seconds. "Where is she? Where’s A
ANNAI pace the living room, phone pressed tightly to my ear, waiting for Lola to pick up. My hands are trembling, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something I can’t quite name boiling inside me. After what feels like an eternity, her familiar voice answers."Hey, girl! What’s up?"Lola’s voice is light and casual, but I can’t match her tone."Lola," I say, my voice strained, "I need to talk to you."Her tone shifts immediately. "What’s wrong? Did something happen with Damien?"I sink into the couch, pulling a blanket over my lap. "Everything. Everything is wrong, Lola. We argued last night, and it was bad. He’s distant, I’m distant it’s like we’re tearing each other apart."I pour everything out, my words tumbling over each other in a rush. I tell her about the fight, about Nicholas, and how Damien discovered the messages. I even admit to avoiding Damien due to her advice on being distant from him. By the time I finish, I’m out of breath, my throat tight from holding back tears.L
ANNAThe room feels suffocatingly empty. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears sliding silently down my cheeks. The weight of my argument with Damien presses on my chest like a boulder, making breathing hard.How did we get here? One moment, we’re building something fragile yet hopeful; the next, it’s all crumbling beneath our feet.I glance at the door, hoping against hope that he’ll walk in and say something anything to bridge the widening chasm between us. But the house is eerily quiet.When the clock strikes midnight and there’s still no sign of Damien, the pain in my chest intensifies. He’s always been composed, never one to let his emotions get the better of him, but tonight, he was raw, unfiltered. The anger in his eyes, the hurt in his voice it’s all on replay in my mind.I pull the covers up to my chin, curling into myself as the tears come faster now, sobs shaking my body. The truth of it all stings: I messed up. I avoided him, and let Nicholas’s messages fill a void I
DAMIEN Tonight, I’ve had enough. As I walk into the bedroom, I see her sitting on the bed, scrolling through her phone. My chest tightens. Her phone. Again.“Anna,” I say, my voice low but firm.She looks up, startled. “What?”“We need to talk.”Her expression hardens immediately, and she puts her phone down on the nightstand. “About what?”“You know damn well what.”She crosses her arms, her defensiveness a barrier I know all too well. “If this is about me not talking to you much lately, maybe you should look in the mirror first.”That sparks something in me a simmering anger I’ve been trying to suppress for days. “Oh, so this is my fault now?”“Well, you’ve been distant, Damien! You come home late, barely say a word to me, and act like I don’t even exist. What do you expect me to do?”I take a step closer, my voice rising. “Don’t you dare put this on me? You’ve been avoiding me first! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you shutting me out, glued to your phone like it’s the only thing th
DAMIENThe tension in the house is thick enough to choke on. Anna and I move around each other like ghosts, existing in the same space but never really crossing paths. She barely looks at me, her silence a sharp blade that cuts deeper with every passing hour. I tell myself to give her time, but patience has never been my strong suit.It’s late evening when I walk into the living room and find her curled up on the couch, her phone glued to her hand. She doesn’t glance up when I enter, her fingers flying across the screen. I wonder who she’s texting so eagerly, but I push the thought aside. I don’t want to be the paranoid husband.“Anna,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.“Hmm?” she murmurs, not looking up.“I’m ordering dinner. Do you want anything?”“I’m fine,” she replies, her tone clipped.I nod, even though she doesn’t see it, and walk into the kitchen. The tension is unbearable, and I feel like I’m suffocating in my own home. I’ve tried to bridge the gap between us, but ever
ANNADamien comes down the stairs, his steps steady and deliberate. I’m sitting at the dining table, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. He stops in the doorway, his presence filling the room even before he speaks.“Morning,” he says, his voice soft but edged with something I can’t quite place.I glance up briefly and mutter, “Morning,” before returning my attention to the screen.“Any plans for today?” he asks, trying to sound casual.“Not really,” I reply, my tone clipped.He pauses as if waiting for me to say more, but when I don’t, he pulls out a chair and sits across from me.“Anna,” he says after a moment, leaning forward slightly. “What’s going on?”I don’t answer right away, pretending to be engrossed in my phone.“Don’t do this,” he says, his voice firmer now. “If something’s bothering you, just tell me.”I sigh, finally looking up at him. His eyes are searching mine, filled with an earnestness that makes me uncomfortable. “It’s nothing, Damien. I just need some space.”“Sp
ANNAThe phone feels heavy in my hand as I stare at Lola’s contact picture. It’s been weeks since the wedding, and though we’ve exchanged a few texts here and there, I haven’t seen her in person. She’s been busy with work, and I… well, I’ve been too caught up in the whirlwind of emotions and confusion that is my life with Damien.I hesitate for a moment, chewing on my bottom lip before I finally hit the call button. The line rings twice before her familiar, cheerful voice answers.“Hey, Mrs. Donovan,” she teases. I can practically hear the grin in her voice.“Lola,” I groan, rolling my eyes even though she can’t see me. “Don’t start.”She laughs. “Fine, fine. What’s up? It’s been a minute.”“Can you meet me during your lunch break?” I ask, my voice a little more urgent than I intended. “There’s… a lot I need to talk to you about.”There’s a pause on her end, and I can tell she’s trying to gauge how serious I am. “Are you okay?” she asks, her tone softening.“I will be. I just… I really
ANNAI’m sitting in the living room, scrolling through my phone, mindlessly flipping through photos when I see a notification at the top of my screen. My heart does a small flip as I recognise the name. Nicolas. The guy I met briefly on my honeymoon in the Maldives. I almost laugh at the thought—it seems like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a few weeks.“Hey, Anna! I just thought I’d check-in. Hope you’re doing well!”I bite my lip, trying to decide how to respond. Nicolas and I didn’t have any deep connection; it was just a friendly conversation on a beach, a passing encounter. But still, something about him was refreshing, a carefree energy that felt like a brief escape in the middle of everything. I decide to respond, keeping it light and friendly.“Hey, Nicolas! I’m doing well, thanks for checking in. How about you? Still, chasing sunsets in paradise?”A minute later, his reply comes through. “Haha, yes, still living the dream! Life’s good here. Let me know if you and