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
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