A Nightmare

I swallowed hard.

Finally, I found my voice.

“Ryan… what the hell is going on?”

The two of them exchanged a look before Ryan turned back to me.

“What does it look like?” he asked.

I frowned, my voice rising with disbelief.

“Can you explain to me what is going on in our house—our home? Who is this woman? Who is that little girl? What is happening here?.... Who are these people?”

I gestured around the room, trying to make sense of it, trying to hold onto something that still made sense.

And then Ryan laughed. He actually laughed.

At my confusion. In my desperation.

The hurt still laced in my voice, as if what I was seeing wasn’t real—wasn’t enough.

He reached for the woman and pulled her into his side, his arm resting around her waist.

He kissed her softly, smiling.

“This is the woman of my life,” he said with ease. “You could say she’s my childhood sweetheart. Her name is Ariana.”

I froze again.

The love of his life?

His childhood sweetheart?

I had never heard the name “Ariana” before in my life. Where was all of this coming from?

"Where did she come from? And what the hell was she doing in my house?" I snapped.

But Ryan just smirked.

“This is my house, Monique,” he said, his tone heartless. “So take the volume of your voice down when you're addressing me.”

Then he added coldly, “Just so you know, This is the woman I love. And that little girl—she’s my precious daughter.”

I felt the pain. A sharp, cruel stab right in the middle of my chest.

The pain was so real, it knocked the breath out of me. I clutched my stomach, doubling slightly.

The tears were there—hot, burning—but they wouldn’t fall, trapped behind my eyes.

“You can't be serious. This isn’t real.”

I shook my head. No matter what I had just seen, no matter what was happening in front of me, it couldn’t be real.

The life I lived with this man—this man I married—was different.

"This isn't real...."

But Ryan looked at me now with something close to disgust.

“Who gave you the permission to come back here?” he snapped.

My eyes narrowed.

“This is my house,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “I wanted to surprise you.”

He scoffed. “You know how I hate surprises. I want you where I want you. I want you to appear when I say so.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, staring at him like I didn’t know him anymore.

“Are you that dense?” he said sharply. “Are you really that stupid?”

Ariana placed a gentle hand on his chest, her voice syrupy and soft.

“Calm down, my love. Don’t be mad at her… she didn’t know what she was doing.”

“You’re right,” Ryan said, turning back to me with a cold smile. “Take your things and tell Maria to take them upstairs. Ariana and I are using the master bedroom. You can use one of the guest rooms—for now. We’ll talk more later.”

And just like that, it hit me. This was really happening. This wasn’t a nightmare.

I knew that I had to be strong. I had to remember who I was—the girl who had given her life to this man, her love, her inheritance, her years.

I had gotten married thinking I was the happiest woman alive. Living the dream. Living the life. But now—

“No,” I said.

They both turned toward me.

“No,” I repeated, louder this time. “I don’t know who this woman is. I don’t know what lies you’ve cooked up together, but I want her out of my house. Both of you.”

Ryan’s expression darkened.

“Nobody’s leaving this house,” he said flatly. “Unless it’s you, of course.”

He stepped forward.

“Like I said, this is the woman I love. And that little girl is my child. This is their home. This is our home.”

Then, as if he were offering me a favour:

“If you don’t feel comfortable living here, that’s fine. You’re welcome to stay at any of the properties I own. You can choose any apartment. But Ariana...”

He locked eyes with me. “ is not leaving this house.”

“What happened to you, Ryan? What happened to our love? Our vows...?”

My voice trembled as I tried to reach him, to reach the man I had spent ten years loving.

I was still hopeful... I was hoping I could still find a piece of the man who married me. The man who showed me love all these years. What is happening right now?

I blinked, trying to make sense of the betrayal unfolding in front of me.

“I felt your love. It was real. We were real. What happened?”

Ryan let out another laugh and Ariana joined him. They were laughing at me. Me.

“You’re so stupid, Monique,” Ryan said, shaking his head like I was nothing more than a joke.

“It wasn’t even hard. You were desperate for love. All I had to do was act like a book boyfriend—give you attention, shower you with gifts, tell you what you wanted to hear…”

He shrugged. “And you fell right into my arms. It was never personal.”

He pulled Ariana closer, placing a hand on her stomach—rubbing it.

“I can’t keep hiding Ariana anymore. She’s the woman I love. And we’re expecting our second child.”

His voice was casual. Cold. Proud.

“You can’t be serious,” I whispered, rage and heartbreak burning in my chest.

“You told me we couldn’t have babies yet because you wanted to be there for them... For us,” I choked. “We had a plan. We were five years away from that plan. And the whole time—”

I stopped, realizing the truth, horror settling in.

“You were building a family with her.”

He didn’t even look guilty.

“I don’t love you, Monique,” he said flatly. “I used you. For your father’s connections. For your money. That’s all it was.”

He sighed like he was doing me a favour.

“You’re a good person. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or anything. But the game is the game. Blame the game.”

I stared at him, stunned.

“What? What are you saying?” I breathed. “What does that even mean?”

He turned away like he was already done with me.

“I said what I said,” he muttered. “I’ll call the driver. He’ll take you to a hotel so you can spend some time thinking everything through.”

Then he turned back to me, his voice suddenly filled with annoyance.

“And once you’re done moping, you can come back and apologize for this little drama you’ve caused here.”

I walked toward Ryan, hand raised, ready to slap him with every ounce of fury I had left...But he caught my wrist midair—tight.

His grip was iron, cruel, and painful. I let out a small whimper from the pain.

I turned towards Ariana. She was smiling. Smiling like my pain was her favourite show.

I didn’t even know her, how long has she known about me?

“You’re hurting me,” I whispered.

Ryan finally let go, shoving me backwards with a force that made me stumble. He waved me off like I was an annoying insect.

“I’m not leaving,” I snapped, straightening myself. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my house. My inheritance..." I took a deep breath and continued,

"My father’s money—put you where you are today. His connections, his properties, his name. This house is mine. Everything you own is because of me. You and your mistress and your child—get the hell out of my house.”

That’s when Ryan laughed. A deep, real laugh that echoed and sliced straight through me.

“Your money?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You have no money, Monique. You gave it all to me because you were stupid. Naïve. Desperate to prove your love.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a taunting whisper.

“I should make sure my daughter never turns out like you. You’re not a bad example—you’re a warning.”

He stepped back, arms spread as if mocking me.

“Nothing is in your name. Not the company. Not the house. Not even two per cent of the shares. That bank card you’ve been using?” He scoffed. “It’s under my name. You don’t own anything.”

He took a step closer, eyes glinting with cruelty.

“And if I’m being honest, everything I’ve given you was out of pity. So before I change my mind and take that back too—get the fuck out of my face.”

They walked away. Just like that while I stood there, swallowed by silence.

Anger. Sadness. Heartbreak. Betrayal. Every emotion hit me like waves, one after another until I couldn’t tell which was which.

I stumbled out of the house, headed to the garage, grabbed the keys to one of the cars, and drove—fast and without thinking—to Ryan’s parents’ house.

They would understand... She would understand. His mother loved me. There had to be an explanation, a misunderstanding. Maybe I’d wake up from this nightmare.

When I got there, I parked the car and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red. My face is a mess. I wiped my tears, straightened my hair, and took a deep breath.

Then I stepped out and headed toward the house. I wasn’t paying attention. My mind was a jumbled mess.

And just like that—bam—I walked straight into someone. I nearly lost my footing, but a strong arm caught me, steadying me.

I looked up… and froze.