She was betrayed by her husband
She was betrayed by her husband
I could hear the joyful laughs emitting a door away from me. They were loud and blatantly happy, making my weak heart hide further into its shell. I had worked hard to work with steel and develop a rigid layer, but all that took to break past my shield and tear me apart was a single vulnerability; my attached feelings.
I truly cared for Iyaz and tolerated his careless ways
to keep him happy. He would disappear for days, with people warning me about him having another family, but I simply listened to the rumours with
calm. I believed that his absence meant little because of him
always returning back. My fragile and naive heart had assumed
that him coming back was hinting towards his heart caring for
me. Trust makes you do that...it makes you pick up every single gesture and colour it with hope 6 and maybes.
I was so used to ignoring my husband's heartless ways, always turning my nose in the other direction when he claimed to be attending a business meeting, yet people had seen him in places hanging out with a young woman
and a child. He depicted all signs
of disloyalty, and I let him.
My helper, Pinky-a young caucasian girl-she would often scold me for my weak and forgiving ways. She was adamant in convincing me that what I felt was nothing but toxic harming.
I wasn't having any of it. What Pinky didn't get was that I believed my feelings...completely trusted Iyaz's promises.. His secrets meant nothing to me. They couldn't tear up what I presumed to be the most real experience of my life. Yet, I had never been proven so wrong, until now.
Deciding to, for the first time in my life, follow my husband to one of his business meetings, park my car a street away from his, watch him enter a house where a child called him father and a woman (who used to work at his office)
was referred as his wife, stand outside that house's window and just stare at how Iyaz was treating his son with so much adoration...stuffing his arms with gifts, I was struck thunderously
by reality.
My hopes and dreams had so badly been crushed.
And suddenly, I was lost,
spluttering between what I had always assumed and what was
real. The harsh face of reality had literally made me feel suffocated.
The happy laughs were too real to
be faked. Only a strong emotion
could make one laugh like that.
Thus, rushing away from the house, I ran under the thundering sky and collapsed ona bench that was placed a few blocks away from the house. Strong wind was doing a good job in camouflaging
my tears and making me shiver with emotions. I deserved all the pain for being so foolish, for being so naive.
While hating myself in an empty street, I heard low shouts of my name floating over the pondering rain. Soon, the shouts seemed to grow anxious and louder as they neared me, and I finally managed to make out the silhouette behind the noises. It was Pinky.
Fuming, she neared me with anger and increased her phase
at my sight. Her fragile ways were making it hard for her fight against the wind and run. Quickly engulfing me in a warm hug, she then moved away and scolded.
"Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking?" She scowled, wiping her face. Seldom
wind was making her shake. She seemed like a much-needed friend in this midst of pain.
"I have lost him, Pinky," I glumly spoke, staring at the closed shops right across the road. "I have
finally realized that he never
cared." I sniffed, feeling a pang as
I said it out loud. Speaking made
this epiphany more real. | 4 |
"There, there," she sympathised, sitting down next to me. "Tell me what happened?" She tilted her head towards me, making me turn and meet her eyes. The warmth in her gentle eyes and the familiar vibes of strength and pure concern emitting from her soul made me grow even more emotional and broken. Iyaz had left me feeling so lonely
"Pinky, he doesn't care," I sobbed, crying my heart out. "I chose to be patient, accepting and even kind with him, but that wasn't enough.
I wasn't enough," I emphasized
now pushing my face into the
palm of my hands. The sound
of the seemed to be making me
more antsy and emotional. 2 |
"Don't cry," she cooed. "It's his
loss. I always knew you were too
good for him. Now, it is time for
you to see that, too." She tried consoling, making me wince and
pull away from my palms | 2 |
Wiping both tears and rain away from my face with exaggerating gestures, I frowned.
"But that's where you are
wrong, Pinky. I have never been strong; always terrible with relationships, horrible with achievements. I am the one who has lost here-not him, and it pangs me how easily I had fooled myself into thinking otherwise,"
I confessed, lowering my gaze
while shifting away from her.
My thoughts were all mellow and depressed.
"You are right. Maybe you are not the one for him," she supplied, making my soul turn silent. I wanted her to agree, but having her agree to with my words made me feel shattered; I was such
a confused mess. "But, I don't think anything will ever be good enough for that selfish brat, and you need to find someone who truly values the treasure you are." She continued. I tilted my face back towards her.
"How?" I gave a completely helpless and broken look. I was literally so lost and down at the moment.
Intently holding on to my attention, she gently
reprimanded, "It's time to
stop hiding behind books and clouding your mind with negative presumptions, Mahira. The world has done enough by making you see things from its perspective. Now, it's time for you to take a stand up and show your strength. No need to keep fearing the what ifs. If the world doesn't classify
you as good enough, then who cares. Happiness doesn't believe
in good enough, and you need
to do just that; you need to ° experience being cherished."
"But I was cherished. Iyaz." I glumly countered, slumping my shoulders, "Iyaz was my hero, but he just doesn't see that."
"And he might never, but someone else will," she consoled, making me give her a tiny smile. She was trying, unlike most
people in my life.
"Thank you," I then softly spoke after a few minute, with my gaze turned back towards the shops ahead of us. Their presence was soothing for some reason.
"Now come on." she then
spoke, "It's time to go home
now. Any longer, and cold will
be our companion for days,"
she supplied, getting up. Her comment made me smile. This woman was a gem.
Now walking beside Pinky, I kept quiet as we both headed back towards our home.
A soothing cup of tea was what I desperately needed at the moment. My pain was new, and I was sure that a cup of tea was needed for being able to
bandage my wounds; I had never thaught that I would be the one to be experiencing the blues
of a heartbreak, but now that I
was defeated, I needed to find strength in me to fight-to stop
hiding and make a change.
No more vulnerable Mahira.
With a frightened heart. I was going to show the world that I was Strong, and that no selfish smiles could destroy me.
I was going to prove myself as a
warrior.
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Janet was adopted when she was a kid -- a dream come true for orphans. However, her life was anything but happy. Her adoptive mother taunted and bullied her all her life. Janet got the love and affection of a parent from the old maid who raised her. Unfortunately, the old woman fell ill, and Janet had to marry a worthless man in place of her parents' biological daughter to meet the maid's medical expenses. Could this be a Cinderella's tale? But the man was far from a prince, except for his handsome appearance. Ethan was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family who lived a reckless life and barely made ends meet. He got married to fulfill his mother's last wish. However, on his wedding night, he had an inkling that his wife was different from what he had heard about her. Fate had united the two people with deep secrets. Was Ethan truly the man we thought he was? Surprisingly, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the impenetrable wealthiest man in the city. Would he find out that Janet married him in place of her sister? Would their marriage be a romantic tale or an utter disaster? Read on to unravel Janet and Ethan's journey.
The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.
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Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, "Do you think you deserve it?" Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, "Marry me?"
Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.
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