"I'm Bertha," she said, her tone friendly but with a hint of something I couldn't quite place. "And you must be Amelia. It's nice to finally meet you," She smiled, holding out a hand and further deepening my confused state. Before I could respond, heavy footsteps approached, and my father appeared behind Bertha. The change in his demeanor was so jarring it made me blink in disbelief. Gone was the broken man I'd glimpsed at the cemetery. Instead, his face was lit with a smile broader and more genuine than any I'd seen in years. "Ah, Bertha! I see you found the room on your own," he said, his voice warm with affection. He placed a hand on her shoulder, the casual intimacy of the gesture making my stomach churn. "What do you think? It's the second largest bedroom in the house." Bertha glanced around, taking in the pale blue walls, the window seat overlooking the garden, the bookshelf crammed with my favorite novels. "I like it," she declared with a nod. "Much better than the other
Roman didn't come back to his house for three days, a decision I was grateful for because I wasn't sure how to face him now that he plagued my dreams like a fucking disease after that stupid kiss. I never should have let it happen, most especially before I made a bet that I wouldn't bail on this farce. The opening of the department stores was in two days, and I had no idea how I was going to walk into that place, hand in hand with a man I could not face. “Is there something bothering you, Miss Amelia?” Trenton asked as he handed me a glass of water and sat on the stool next to me. I met the man's kind eyes and forced a smile. “Not really…” I muttered, staring down my fiddling fingers. A bad habit I had when something was bothering me. No doubt, Trenton knew me well enough to know as well. “Actually…” I turned to look at Trenton with a curious gaze, “I do have a question,” Trenton nodded. “Why are you here?” I asked, “I mean, how did you end up being the Wellin
Three whole days he didn't come home and the one time he did? He brought Bertha with him. From what Trenton said, it seemed like this wasn't the first time. If he knew I loved him so much that such a sight would bother me…why doesn't he have the common courtesy to keep his mistress out of what's supposed to be a matrimonial home? “Why are you getting so upset?” Jessica asked from over the phone as she heard my ramblings, no doubt eager for me to shut my pie hole and talk about the vacation instead. I shook my head, though I knew she didn't see me, “No, I'm not upset,” I lied. “I'm just irritated by her presence, that's all,” I replied and then let out a heavy sigh, propping up the pillow behind my head so I would be more comfortable. “I just mean, he brought her here yesterday, we have an important event to discuss and prepare for tomorrow…does he plan on taking her?” I scoffed, biting noisily through the chips in my hand. I heard Jessica laugh, “It doesn't matter,
ROMANFIVE YEARS EARLIER I stared out the window of my Moscow apartment, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. The cool glass pressed against my forehead as I sighed, my breath fogging up the pane. My phone buzzed insistently on the nearby table, my father's name flashing on the screen. I knew I should answer it. I'd been avoiding my family's calls for weeks now, making excuses about being too busy with work. But the truth was, I just didn't want to talk to them. Every conversation left me feeling drained and irritated. The buzzing stopped, then started again almost immediately. I groaned, pushing myself away from the window and grabbing the phone. "Hello, Father," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. "Roman! Finally, you answer. I've been trying to reach you for days," my father's gruff voice came through the speaker. "I've been busy. You know how it is with work," I replied, the lie coming easily to my lips. "Too busy to talk to your own father? Th
Bertha was upset. Crying, soaking my shirt through with her tears and quite frankly, all I could do was hold her to my chest and pat her back. Everything makes her upset these days, everything makes her cry. Almost like after she came back, she became a whole different person. Not the strong woman I knew her to be, that never cared whenever Amelia was near or whatever it was Amelia said to her. Now she was constantly emotional and as much as I hated to admit it, it was throwing me off. Still, it was my fault. I was the incompetent one for not divorcing Amelia and keeping her happy, it was all my fault. But a selfish part of me wishes she wouldn't be affected by it so much, I wished she would understand just how hard it was for me as well. Does she think I want to stay married to Amelia? “Bertha, I'm pretty sure, whatever your sister said to you, she didn't mean it…she was probably upset as well…” Bertha pulled back abruptly looking up at me with a teary gaze,
AMELIAThe dress I picked was the royal blue dress Roman had gotten for me when we went shopping. Mainly because I bought him a suit with the same color. A deep royal blue that I knew for a fact would look fantastic on him. There was a look in his eyes when I wore that dress, one that gave me a lot to think about. To see that look in his eyes again… No. I shook my head and watched my reflection. No need to think like a stupid person. Why would you want him to look at you with desire in his eyes? You don't want him! After pulling on the dress, I zipped it up as far as my hand could reach and proceeded to work on my hair. The event was starting in three hours and I had to be done in thirty minutes. After our so-called truce, Roman and I were now seemingly on good terms and quite frankly, he didn't annoy me as much but, a part of me dreaded going to the event. Not just because there'll be countless people staring but because I know he'll leave me alone to handle it a
There's so much I want to say to him, yet I knew it would be better to stay silent. I didn't trust myself to speak around him anymore, I seem to say the most stupid shit when I look into his eyes. Unlike what it looked like the last time I saw it, the department store looked magnificent. It was finished, higher than I remembered and painted a golden and silver shade that made the entrance alone scream luxury. Roman's arm was around my waist as the driver rounded the corner and we stepped down. Reporters and countless cameras flooded the entrance, all rushing towards us and asking a flurry of questions that I struggled to grasp. What bothered me was the flashes from the cameras, they felt uncomfortable and had my heart racing faster than necessary. I slowly tensed, panic rising in my throat as my ears rang and all the tiny hairs on my skin stood on alert. I didn't like it one bit. I couldn't see a thing, I couldn't understand why seeing so many flashes affected me,
“As much as I would love to take all the credit, all of this wouldn't have been possible without my wife here,” Roman announced, practically bragging as his warm arm came around my shoulder. His wife. There was that tingling feeling again. “Is that so?” Henderson’s eyss glinted with realization, “Well then I should be thanking you as well, Amelia, not only have you graced us with the presence of one as beautiful as you, you've also gifted us with such beauty,” He gestured at the wide expanse of the store. “You flatter me, Mr. Henderson,” I smiled like a fool, feeling my cheeks heat up as a compliment. He simply grinned and then nodded respectfully at Roman who now had a rather stiff expression on his face. “I will leave you two to attend to other guests,” Then he turned to me, “I do hope you will save a dance for me, Amelia…” My name sounded rather smooth on his tongue. He didn't call me Mrs. Wellington like the others and quite frankly, it was a breath of fresh air
The argument replayed in my mind like a broken record, each harsh word cutting deeper with each repetition.‘All you see is your own pain.’The accusation stung particularly sharp because it was untrue. I'd spent weeks trying to understand Roman's pain, making excuses for his absence, convincing myself that his distance was just his way of coping. And now he had the audacity to throw that in my face?That son of a–My phone felt heavy in my pocket. I could call Jessica, or Alexander—they'd be here in minutes. But what would I say? That my husband, the man who'd been my rock through everything, had just revealed a side of himself I'd never seen before? That he was keeping secrets about who had poisoned me?Instead, I did something I hadn't dared since being discharged; I walked upstairs to the nursery door.My hand trembled as it touched the doorknob. We'd painted it white just two weeks ago, discussing whether we should add some kind of decorative element. Roman had wanted to paint l
AMELIAHome was supposed to feel like a sanctuary. Instead, the walls seemed to close in around me, each room holding memories that felt more like wounds. The nursery door remained firmly shut—neither of us had the courage to face what lay behind it.I for one knew that I would break down into tiny pieces if I saw what was behind that door. I had already given instructions for the room to be emptied, without my knowledge, of course. I didn't want to see them. The crib. The stuffed animals, the onesies. Fiona had left or rather…fired. I had a feeling she had something to do with the poisoning seeing as Roman was being kind of secretive about why she left or why he fired her. He never really gave me a straight answer, not even when he hired an older woman to fill in as both housekeeper and maid for the meantime. Roman had been adamant about me staying home. "You need to rest," he'd say, his tone leaving no room for argument. But rest felt impossible when my mind wouldn't stop spinnin
The night air was cool against my skin as I stepped out of the hospital, fishing my phone out of my purse to order another Uber. The parking lot was mostly empty, illuminated by scattered streetlights that created pools of yellow light in the darkness. The sound of rapid footsteps behind me made my heart jump, but before I could turn around, I heard his voice."Greece!"Just one word. My name. But the way Colson said it made something inside me twist. I turned to find him slightly out of breath, as if he'd run to catch up with me. The sight of him – powerful, composed Colson – actually running after someone was so unexpected that for a moment, I could only stare."What are you doing here?" I asked, hating how my voice betrayed my awareness of him. Even in the dim light, he was devastating – the shadows playing across his features only emphasized the sharp angles of his face, the intensity of his gaze."It's too dark for you to be out alone," he said, his tone still carrying that profe
GREECE“Why…” I inhaled deeply, “...are you here?” I asked softly. I didn't know he was back from Mexico. But then again, we haven't kept any contact since I left. He couldn't be here for me, right? "Wellington Corp has a meeting with the university board today," Colson said, his voice carrying that familiar professional tone that I'd almost forgotten existed. "With Roman at the hospital with Amelia, I'm handling the meeting with the dean."The words hit me like a splash of cold water, washing away whatever foolish notions I'd been entertaining. Of course. He wasn't here for me. He was here for business, just like always. The realization stung more than it should have, but I refused to let it show on my face."It's nice to see you again," I managed to say, proud of how steady my voice sounded despite the chaos in my chest. But even as I spoke, my traitorous eyes kept drifting to his lips, remembering how they'd felt against mine that night in Mexico. The warmth, the intensity, the
GREECEThe lecture hall felt suffocating despite its size. Professor Williams droned on about corporate law, but my mind was elsewhere, wandering back to memories of Mexico City – memories I couldn't seem to shake no matter how hard I tried. It had been a month since I'd returned, since Colson had practically forced me onto that plane, and yet everything still felt fresh. Raw.The scent of his cologne. The intensity of his gaze. The way his hands felt when they caught me from falling. The almost-kiss on the balcony that still haunted my dreams."Miss Stavros?" Professor Williams's voice cut through my reverie. "Care to share your thoughts on the Jensen case?"I straightened in my seat, forcing myself to focus on the present. "The Jensen case highlighted the importance of fiduciary duty in corporate governance," I began, drawing on whatever information I could remember from last night's reading. "The board's decision to..."As I continued my response, I couldn't help but notice how dif
The days that followed blurred together like watercolors in the rain. I felt disconnected from my body, as if I were floating somewhere above myself, tethered only by the thinnest of threads to the physical world below. The hospital room became my entire universe—a bubble where time moved differently, where every breath felt like an effort against the crushing weight of loss.I used to think I was a strong person, I used to think if I could have survived this far, after everything…then I could handle anything. But this? This pain? It was something I wouldn't wish even my worst enemy. Jessica was my constant companion, her presence both comforting and guilt-inducing. She'd pull up a chair beside my bed, her white coat wrinkled from long hours, dark circles under her eyes betraying her exhaustion."You need to get back to work," I told her one afternoon, my voice still carrying that hollow quality I couldn't seem to shake. "Your patients need you more than I do."She looked up from h
AMELIADarkness. Unrelenting. Suffocating.The memory crashed over me like a violent wave, fragmentary and disjointed. Marcus. The name itself was a razor blade against my consciousness, cutting through the soft, sedated edges of my hospital room's tranquility.I could see him—not his face, never his complete face—but his presence. Overwhelming. Menacing. A shadow that had stalked me longer than I could comprehend. His voice was a low, calculated whisper that seemed to echo through the chambers of my most terrifying memories. "Finally," he had said. "Finally, I have you."I remember being so afraid that I couldn't speak, every time he walked into a room, every time he told me about his love for me…how many times he's watched me, how many times he's just been in the shadows…looking, seeing everything and anything that has happened to me, even times I had forgotten. Flashes of my previous attempts to escape flickered like a damaged film reel. The sharp object I'd used against him—som
AMELIAThe silence was almost like a living, breathing entity. It wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket, pressing against my chest, making each breath feel like a monumental effort. My body felt alien—a vessel that had somehow failed its most fundamental purpose. The white hospital walls seemed to close in, choking me yet at the same time those white walls managed to keep me calm despite the screams and wails I could hear in my head.Or perhaps it was just me, still recovering from the shock. Roman's voice broke through my fog, soft and tentative. "Do you need anything, Amy? Water? Another blanket?" His words were gentle, carefully constructed, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile composure I was desperately trying to maintain.I turned my head slowly, mechanically, meeting his gaze. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and though I never saw it was obvious that he had cried. A concept that I'd never really associated with Roman up until that very moment.
T.W(Miscarriage) I had fallen back asleep. My body was probably unable to handle the exhaustion that came with my fear. Roman hadn't said a word to me which only served to make me feel worse. He just told me to wait till the doctor got there. My nerves were all over the fucking place and all that remained was fear. The world came into focus slowly, like a camera lens adjusting. White walls, the sterile smell of disinfectant, the soft beeping of medical equipment - everything screamed hospital. My body felt heavy, disconnected, as if I were floating just slightly above myself.Roman hadn't moved from my side. His hand was still clasped around mine, his thumb making small, repetitive circles on my skin - a gesture of comfort, of connection. I could see the strain in his face, the lines of worry etched deeply around his eyes and mouth. He looked so exhausted that my heart ached. But not just for his state, but because of mine. I could hear the blood rushing to my ears as my heart beg