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Chapter 86, Barefaced.
Last Updated:
2025-04-07 04:37:03
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I walked into the office today in clothes I wouldn’t normally wear to work—an oversized coat, simple blouse underneath, flowy pants, and flat shoes instead of my usual heels. My hair wasn’t perfectly styled, probably a bit greasy, and my face was bare. No makeup. No effort. Not that anyone would dare comment on it. I settled into my chair and mechanically started reviewing reports, replying to emails, drafting responses—anything to keep my mind occupied. The work was a welcome distraction, something solid to focus on instead of the mess inside my head. Then Karim, the team leader, knocked on my door. He looked tense. "Three people called in sick today," he said, rubbing his temple. "The workload is overwhelming. I don’t know if we can handle it." I barely hesitated. "It’s fine. I’ll take their place." His eyebrows shot up. I wasn’t the type to step in like that—not directly, not like some hands-on manager. But today, I needed this. I needed to drown in something other than m
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The library was quiet, the way I liked it—just the soft rustle of pages turning from the wind coming from the big open windows and the faint scent of old books surrounding me. I had told Tala earlier that I needed the entire day to study, to revise what I’d learned in college about business and economic science. No distractions. No interruptions. She had nodded, understanding, and left me alone with my thoughts and my books. Hours passed, the words blurring together as I flipped through case studies and theories. My stomach growled, a sharp reminder that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I leaned back in my chair, stretching my stiff shoulders, and glanced at the clock. Late afternoon already. A craving hit me then—one I’d been suppressing for months. That burger sandwich from the new restaurant downtown, the one with the golden brioche bun and thick, juicy patty I’d seen advertised everywhere. I had resisted, of course. Because of the diet. Because I wanted to stay fit for him. But
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I stared at my phone after Bayan walked out, my fingers trembling as I dialed Rola’s number. The moment she answered, my voice came out sharp, accusing. "Why did you tell Bayan? I thought you were helping me, not messing with me!"Rola sighed on the other end, her tone annoyingly calm. "Dema, if you really want to break Rami’s cycle of cheating, you have to be brave. Bayan can help us—she’s been through this before."I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling up. "Bayan is obviously up to something! She’s not here to help—she just wants to mess with me!""You don’t even know her,"Rola shot back. "You only met her once. How can you be so sure?" I fell silent, my chest tight. She was right—I didn’t know Bayan. But something about her, the way she looked at me, like she already held all the cards… it set me on edge. "You should at least hear her side of the story before you make up your mind about her." She added.Finally, I let out a slow breath. "Fine. I’ll… think about it. I’ll call
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I couldn’t stay in that mansion for even another second. Not after what I’d just found out. The maids who I considered my friends—had been lying to me this whole time. And Tala…Ya Allah , Tala. I thought she was different. I thought she was the first real friend I’d ever had. But no. Just another person playing a role, pretending to care. My hands clenched the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. I didn’t even know where I was going. Just away. Away from the lies, away from the betrayal, away from the suffocating walls of that house that had never truly been a home. The road blurred in front of me, tears burning my eyes. I swiped at them angrily. Why did I keep letting myself believe things could be different? That people could be different? I drove until my head started spinning, until the weight in my chest made it hard to breathe. Finally, I pulled over near some public park—I didn’t even know which one. The engine cut, and silence rushed in, heavy and suffocat
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The keys to the beach house felt heavy in my hand—not from weight, but from possibility. This was mine. Entirely mine. No compromises, no opinions to consider except my own. The salt-kissed air rushed past me as I pushed open the door, the empty rooms echoing with potential. I walked through the bare space, my fingers trailing along the walls, already imagining the colors they would wear. Soft, grey and sky blue? Or maybe something bolder, like the deep turquoise of the ocean at dusk? I smiled. I’ll decide later. Every choice would be mine, down to the smallest detail. The living room was bathed in golden afternoon light, and I tilted my head up, picturing a chandelier—something delicate but striking, like crystal droplets catching the sun. Not the kind you’d find in a showroom, but something unique, something that felt like it belonged only here. I crouched, pressing my palm against the cool tile floor. These would have to go. Maybe something in a pale, weathered stone, or hand
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I hadn’t planned on going back to the office so soon, but my team needed me—and honestly, I needed them too. For the first time in weeks, I actually wanted to step back into that world. I stood in front of my closet, running my fingers over fabric until I found it—the burgundy suit, sharp and elegant, the color rich against my skin. I paired it with gold: a delicate bracelet, small earrings, and a simple necklace that caught the light just right. No makeup—my skin was still healing, still tender from the last breakout—but for once, I didn’t care. The confidence wasn’t in the coverage; it was in the way I carried myself today. When I walked into the office, I could feel the shift before anyone said a word. The murmurs, the glances, the way conversations paused just a beat too long. My heels clicked against the floor, steady, sure. "Dema!" Sarah from was the first to speak, her eyes widening. "You look—" "Different?" I finished for her, smiling. She shook her head. "Refreshed."
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The furniture store is vast, filled with endless possibilities, but my eyes are immediately drawn upward—to the chandeliers. Dalia walks beside me, her fingers trailing over a catalog as she hums in thought. "That one,"I say suddenly, pointing to a stunning spiral glass chandelier. Its delicate branches twist like a frozen tree caught in mid-growth, each piece catching the light in a way that makes it shimmer like ice. Dalia tilts her head, studying it before smiling. "An excellent choice. It’s unique—just like you."I grin, pleased. "Exactly what I was thinking." We move to the living room section next, and I run my hand over the fabric of a sleek grey couch. It’s soft but sturdy, and when I spot the dark green pillows, I know it’s perfect. "These," I say, arranging them against the back. "With that organic wood table—see how the grain flows?" Dalia nods approvingly. "Moody and elegant. Now, curtains?"I scan the options, searching for something that ties it all together—deep
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I was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through furniture magazines on my phone,saving ideas for the beach house decoration. The more I looked, the more I got excited for Thursday. The door creaked open, and Rami walked in, hands in his pockets, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I took the day off,” he announced. I glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “Why?” He shrugged. “Thought we could go shopping. Unless you’ve changed your mind about the whole redecorating thing.” I sighed, tossing my phone aside. “Actually, I have. I was just thinking—the furniture in the mansion is classic. It’s refined. Changing it would be a waste.” Rami chuckled, shaking his head. “So all those hours of browsing were for nothing?” “Call it a change of heart,” I said dryly. “Well,” he said, stepping closer, “since I already took the day off, we might as well go out. Get dressed—I’m taking you to that new Palestinian restaurant everyone’s talking about.” A smile tugged at my lips. “Fine. But only bec
Last Updated : 2025-04-12
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A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 154, Rami's Dairies Part 29.
I’m the worst husband on earth. I’ve come to terms with that fact, no I actually accepted it. It’s not just some fleeting thought anymore, not some dramatic exaggeration to wallow in self-pity. It’s the truth, carved into my bones, etched into every regret that keeps me awake at night. I know it now, with a certainty that aches worse than any wound. And the worst part? I’m used to this feeling. It’s familiar, like an old coat I’ve worn so long I’ve forgotten the weight of it. Before Dema, I was careless. No—worse than careless. I was cruel in the most effortless way, the kind of cruelty that doesn’t even recognize itself. I moved through the world like a proud hawk I was untouchable, unbothered by anything. I did what I wanted, went where I pleased, let people drift into my orbit just long enough to make them believe in something that was never real. I’d smile, I’d charm them , I’d let them hope I would let them dream and then, when the novelty wore off or the guilt prickled too sha
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 153, Rami's Dairies Part 28.
My mom left today, and with her departure, the last barrier between Dema and me vanished. There was no more avoiding the elephant in the room—no more excuses, no more distractions. Dema had no choice but to talk to me now, and as much as I didn’t want to push her, I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. I needed answers. I needed to know what I had done wrong, or else the cracks in our relationship would only deepen until there was nothing left to salvage. When I finally gathered the courage to approach her, to ask her why she was so distant, why the anger in her eyes never seemed to fade, things spiraled out of control almost immediately. The moment I opened my mouth, it was like stepping on a landmine. She brought up that night—the night of the commercial event. The night I made a reckless, selfish mistake by staying out late with a woman who wasn’t my wife. My stomach twisted at the memory, at the way I had tried to justify it instead of just owning up to my poor judgme
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 152, Rami's Dairies Part 27.
The first few days after Dema gave birth, I told myself it was normal—the exhaustion, the mood swings, the distance. But the way she looked at me, or rather, didn’t look at me, made my chest tighten with something uneasy. I tried to approach her one evening as she sat by the window, the dim light casting shadows over her tired face. The baby was finally asleep, and I thought maybe now she’d let me in, even just a little. “Dema,” I said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling?” She didn’t turn. Just stiffened under my touch before shrugging me off. “I’m fine.” The words were ice. I swallowed, forcing a smile she couldn’t see. “You’ve been quiet. I just… I want to make sure you’re okay.” A pause. Then a sigh, heavy with something unspoken. “I said I’m fine.” I hesitated, my hand hovering in the air before dropping to my side. “If you need anything—” “I don’t.” The finality in her voice cut deeper than I expected. I stood there, useless, before finally
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 151, Rami's Dairies Part 26.
The day Dema’s water broke, I wasn’t there. Of course, I wasn’t. I had a packed schedule, meetings stacked back-to-back, and I was all the way on the other side of the city. When I got the call, my stomach dropped. I tried to wrap things up fast, but the discussion dragged on, every minute stretching like hours. By the time I finally got out, my hands were shaking as I fumbled with my keys. I jumped in the car, swearing under my breath as I mapped out every possible shortcut. But of course—just my luck—the traffic was a nightmare. Cars inched forward like they were moving through tar. I gripped the wheel, my foot tapping impatiently, heart pounding in my ears. "Come on, come on."When it became clear I wasn’t getting anywhere fast, I made a split-second decision. I pulled into the first rental parking lot I saw, threw the car into park, and bolted. I ran until my lungs burned, dodging pedestrians, my dress shoes slapping against the pavement. At the highway, I flagged down a taxi,I
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 150, Rami's Dairies Part 25.
I had planned to take Dema to the commercial event and even picked out a beautiful dress for her as a surprise. I imagined how happy she’d be when she sees it and how lovely she’d look that evening. But when I got home, I found her lying on her back on the couch, exhausted. “I’m too tired,” she said weakly. When I told her about the event, she shook her head. “I can’t go. I’m exhausted—I don’t feel good, and I don’t look good enough to attend.” I left Dema alone at home and went to the event by myself. The evening dragged on—my team handled everything perfectly, leaving me with little to do. That’s when I spotted her.Her name is Jasmine . She's One of our former managers. She’d quit years ago when she got pregnant, choosing to raise her son over climbing the corporate ladder. Now here she was, gliding through the crowd like she’d never left. She smiled when she saw me. “Rami, how are you? It's been a long time.”We fell into easy conversation, reminiscing about her old days at
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 149, Rami's Dairies Part 24.
Last night was one of the longest nights I’ve ever experienced. Dema had been throwing up on and off for hours, her discomfort keeping both of us awake well past midnight. Each time I heard her retching in the bathroom, my chest tightened with worry. I hovered near the door, offering water, a cold towel, anything to ease her nausea. At one point, I even suggested taking her to the emergency room, fearing she might be seriously ill, but she waved me off weakly. "It’s fine, really," she insisted, her voice hoarse from the strain."This is normal—just part of it." I didn’t understand how anything so exhausting could be normal but she assured me it was just her body adjusting. Still, I couldn’t shake the helplessness gnawing at me. Eventually, the vomiting subsided, but sleep remained out of reach for her. Restless and drained, she wandered out to the balcony, seeking the cool night air. I watched from the doorway as she settled into the wicker chair, her silhouette outlined by the p
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 148, Rami's Dairies Part 23.
When Dema told me she was pregnant, I didn’t know what came over me. My chest tightened, my thoughts raced, and for a moment, I couldn’t even form a response. We had talked about having kids many times before—long conversations that stretched late into the night, filled with hopes, fears, and unspoken tensions. Every time, I told her I wasn’t ready, that the timing wasn’t right, that we needed to wait. And every time, she would look at me with those deep, pleading eyes, her voice soft but unwavering as she explained why she wanted this so badly. She had been an orphan, raised in a system that never gave her the warmth of a real family. She told me how she used to watch other children with their parents, aching for something she never had—a home, stability, unconditional love. To her, having a child wasn’t just a desire; it was a need, a way to fill a void that had been hollowed out by years of loneliness. She feared that if we kept dismissing the idea, she might never get the chance
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 147, Rami's Dairies Part 22.
Love is such a strong word, if you ask me. It's a kind of driving force—something deep and complicated for some people, yet so simple and spontaneous for others. I used to believe that people who have more get more love: people who have more money than others, people who have more influence, more beauty. That's why I didn't believe in love, because I believed it was just another term used to justify capitalistic ideals, a cover for people’s lust and greed. And it's true—some people do use love to get what they want, or they just don't know the difference between love and ambition. My whole life, I thought that I deserved love because I had money, status, and looks. I had the whole package; I was at the top of the social pyramid. That's just how our world works—but again, this is ambition, not real love. Real love is loving someone even when they have nothing. Real love is loving someone for the way they treat you. You can truly love someone for a certain quality about them, and
A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO Chapter 146, Rami's Dairies Part 21.
Love is such a complicated matter. It is very mysterious to me, especially identifying love. Identifying your own emotions is the tricky part. Do you really love this person, or do you just like this person? Do you love them despite their flaws? Do you love them as a whole, or do you just love a specific quality about this person ? Would you still love this person if they lost everything? Would you still love them if they changed? These questions have been on my mind my whole life, and I’ve given up on finding answers. I thought I loved Bayan, yet I moved on with my life just fine after she disappeared. I thought I liked Rola, but when she broke our engagement and left, I didn’t feel anything—I didn’t even shed a single tear. But when I realized for the first time that I could lose Dema, it frightened my soul. For the first time, I felt like my entire world would crash. --- I’ve never felt anything like this before with anyone else. Yes, I admit I’ve been with many wo
