Seven

The next morning.

Despite everything that had happened the day before, Sahara still woke up early.

She quietly got out of bed and headed downstairs to prepare breakfast before her husband left for work.

There were no household staff in the house, so she handled everything herself—from doing the laundry and cleaning the house to preparing meals.

Wifely duties, huh? Leaf almost scoffed when he walked into the kitchen and found his wife busy cooking.

She was wearing a simple white tank top and a pair of denim shorts.

Nothing extravagant. Nothing intentionally seductive.

Yet the sight of her still affected him.

His gaze lingered longer than it should have.

He didn't understand why she had this effect on him. Even dressed so simply, she looked effortlessly beautiful.

For a moment, he simply stood there watching her.

Then he cleared his throat.

"Ahem."

Sahara immediately turned toward him.

And just like that, Leaf found himself frozen.

A few strands of hair had escaped her ponytail. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on her forehead from the heat of the stove. She looked soft. Innocent.

Real.

His eyes followed the movement of her hand as she brushed away the sweat on her brow.

His throat tightened.

Damn it.

He looked away.

"Go ahead and sit in the dining room," Sahara said with a small smile. "I'm almost done."

Her voice snapped him out of whatever trance he had fallen into.

Without another word, he turned and headed for the dining area.

A few minutes later, he was seated at the table waiting for breakfast.

Sahara entered carrying a single plate and a set of utensils.

She carefully placed them in front of him.

Scrambled eggs.

Toast.

Fresh fruit.

And a steaming cup of coffee.

She smiled politely.

"Breakfast is ready." Then she remained standing beside the table.

Leaf frowned.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

Sahara blinked in confusion. Her green eyes widened slightly as she studied him.

"What do you mean?"

Leaf gestured toward the empty chair.

"Why aren't you sitting down?"

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

"I remembered everything you said yesterday."

Something in her tone made him uneasy. "You told me you didn't want me eating with you." She lowered her gaze. "So I thought it would be better if I stayed out of your way."

Then she added softly, "Just call me if you need anything."

Leaf felt something unpleasant twist inside his chest.

She was right.

He had said that.

Yesterday, he had practically ordered her to serve him instead of sharing a meal with him.

But now that she was doing exactly what he wanted, why did it irritate him so much?

He glanced over his shoulder.

Sahara stood nearly a meter away from him.

Like a servant waiting for instructions.

Not like a wife.

"Yes?" she asked when she noticed him staring. "Do you need something?"

She sounded perfectly calm.

Too calm.

As if she had already accepted her place in his life.

As if she had stopped expecting anything from him.

Leaf found himself annoyed by that realization.

"Come here."

Sahara pointed to herself.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

Her eyes widened.

"Are you sure?" She sounded genuinely surprised. "You told me yesterday—"

"I know what I said." His voice came out sharper than intended. "Just get over here and eat with me."

Sahara stared at him for a few seconds, clearly confused.

But she obeyed.

She fetched another plate and set of utensils before taking the seat across from him.

For the first time since their marriage, they shared a meal together.

The silence between them felt awkward.

Sahara tried to focus on her food, but every few seconds she found herself glancing at him.

Leaf noticed.

Of course he noticed.

"Stop staring."

His voice made her nearly choke.

Sahara immediately lowered her head.

Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

Great.

He had caught her.

Again.

She forced herself to focus entirely on her breakfast after that.

No more stolen glances.

No more looking at him.

No more hoping.

When they finished eating, Leaf stood and grabbed his things.

Sahara silently watched him.

For a brief moment, she waited.

Maybe he would say goodbye.

Maybe he would tell her to take care.

Maybe he would at least acknowledge her existence.

But he simply walked out the door.

Without a word.

Without a glance.

Without looking back.

The front door closed behind him.

And once again, Sahara was left alone.

The familiar ache returned to her chest.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop feeling like she was invisible to him.

Like she didn't matter at all.

She wasn’t heartless enough not to feel hurt by her husband’s indifference. This was supposed to be their honeymoon, yet he wasn’t there. He was busy with work again. They hadn’t even made their way to the Maldives for their honeymoon—a gift from Leaf’s mother Sharlene.

The pain inside her was unbearable, and the tears in her eyes refused to stop falling. Her eyes were already swollen from crying, yet the tears still kept coming, one after another.

She kept remembering what had happened between them the night before. She never thought her husband would whisper another woman’s name while he was with her.

Still, Sahara tried to understand. From the very beginning of their marriage, there had never really been love from him. It was only her who loved him—only her who was willing to play the role of a wife, even if it hurt.

She was already in this situation now. All she could do was endure it.

Sharlene’s hands stayed gently wrapped around Sahara’s, as if she could somehow feel everything her daughter-in-law was trying so hard to hide.

“Princess…” she said softly. “Are you really okay here? ”

Sahara forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yes, Mom. I’m okay.”

But Sharlene didn’t look convinced. Her gaze drifted over Sahara’s arms—the faint scratches, the signs of exhaustion—and her brows slowly drew together.

“You’ve only been here a week,” she said gently, “and you already look like you’re carrying the whole house on your back.”

Sahara quickly shook her head.

“It’s just adjusting, Mom. I’ll be fine. I just need time.”

Sharlene sighed and tightened her hold on her hands.

“This house is too big for you to manage alone, Sahara. Leaf should have arranged help for you. Why are you doing everything yourself? ”

Sahara hesitated, then gave a light, practiced laugh.

“It’s okay. I want to learn. Being a housewife means taking care of your home, right? ”

Her voice was calm, but something about it felt too controlled—too careful.

Sharlene studied her longer this time.

“Is that really what you want, princess? ” she asked quietly. “Or are you just convincing yourself? ”

Sahara’s fingers tensed around her hand.

“I really want it,” she answered quickly. “I’ve always dreamed of it.”

A brief silence followed.

Then Sharlene softened her voice.

“You’ve always been a gentle child…but sometimes, you carry too much without telling anyone.”

Sahara lowered her gaze.

And then, more carefully, Sharlene asked,

“And Leaf…is he treating you well? ”

That question made everything inside Sahara tighten.

For a second, she nearly broke.

But she forced herself to smile again.

“Yes, Mom,” she said softly. “He’s just busy with work. You know him.”

Sharlene let out a slow breath, as if trying to accept it.

“He’s always been like that,” she murmured. “Focused on work…distant…but I always thought—” She paused, then gave Sahara a faint, hopeful smile. “I always thought he would be different with you.”

Different.

The word echoed painfully in Sahara’s chest.

If only.

“I’m fine, Mom,” she said again, firmer this time, as if trying to convince both of them. “Really.”

Sharlene didn’t press further. Instead, she reached up and gently brushed Sahara’s hair behind her ear.

“If anything ever gets too heavy,” she said softly, “you tell me. You’re not just my daughter-in-law…you’re like my own daughter.”

That was what almost broke her.

Sahara nodded quickly, afraid her voice would give her away.

“I will, Mom.”

They stayed like that for a moment—mother-in-law and daughter-in-law bound by affection and a truth neither of them was ready to speak aloud.

Then Sharlene slowly stood.

“I won’t stay long, Princess. I just wanted to see you myself.”

Sahara walked her to the door.

“Please take care, Mom.”

At the doorway, Sharlene paused and turned back.

“And Sahara…”

“Yes, Mom? ”

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself too. Not just the house. Not just Leaf.”

Sahara froze for a second.

Then she smiled—soft, controlled, practiced.

“Yes, Mom.”

When the door finally closed, the house fell silent again.

And Sahara was left standing alone in a home that never truly felt like hers.

Once again, she was left alone in that house.

Sahara kept herself busy cleaning, trying to distract her mind from everything that had happened. By five in the afternoon, she had already started preparing dinner.

In the past week since they got married, her husband had never once refused to eat what she cooked. He always finished every meal she prepared, and that alone gave her a small sense of relief. At least her efforts weren’t wasted. At least she was able to take care of him in her own way.

Because no matter what happened, she would do everything she could just to make him love her.

But that fragile hope shattered the moment her husband came home…with another woman.

Like always, Sahara was already by his side, ready to support him.

“Is she your maid, hon? ” the woman asked in a spoiled, overly sweet voice.

Sahara didn’t know her. But the way she clung to Leaf’s arm made it seem like she was the real wife.

Leaf didn’t answer her.

Instead, he looked at Sahara.

She was still wearing her apron—she had been in the middle of cooking when they arrived.

“Have you prepared dinner? ” he asked, his arm still wrapped around the beautiful woman beside him. She had smooth olive skin, was elegant, and looked almost the same age as Leaf.

Sahara swallowed hard, fighting the lump in her throat.

“Yes, Leaf,” she answered softly. “Dinner is ready.”

“Add another plate,” he said casually.

Sahara’s hand moved to her lips as she watched the two suddenly kiss in front of her.

She froze.

Her grip on the spoon loosened, and she quickly turned away, rushing back to the kitchen. But even then, tears were already falling uncontrollably. She wiped them quickly, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

When she returned, she only set down two plates on the table.

She didn’t want to sit with them. She didn’t want to see anything else that might break her further.

“Can I have water? ” the woman asked.

Sahara turned to her and silently obeyed.

“D-Do you need anything else? ” she asked, her voice trembling as she tried hard not to cry.

There was a heavy silence.

“Nothing,” Leaf finally said.

Sahara kept her head down. After that, she quietly excused herself.

She stepped outside and walked toward the gazebo in the garden. She sat on one of the small couches, wrapping her arms around herself.

Earlier, she had been so excited to show Leaf the new dish she cooked. She had imagined him tasting it, maybe even praising her.

But instead, she was met with another woman.

Who was she?

Leaf never even introduced her.

And then…they kissed.

Right in front of her.

Her chest tightened painfully at the memory.

What exactly was Leaf doing to her?

Was he hurting her on purpose?

Why did it feel like everything was intentional?

She never wanted their marriage to be like this. She loved him too much for it to end this way.

But even so, she had to stand her ground.

She was his wife. And that woman had no right to kiss him in front of her.

“I've been looking for you everywhere. But you're just out here." Sahara nearly jumped when she heard his voice.

Slowly, she turned around. The garden lights were dim, and she couldn’t clearly see his expression—but she knew he was watching her closely.

“D-Do you need something? ” she asked softly.

“Eat dinner,” he said simply.

And just like that, he turned away and left.

Sahara stayed there for a moment, staring after him.

A small, painful hope bloomed in her chest.

Maybe…he still cared a little.

She stood up and went back inside.

Dinner was already set for her.

The woman was gone.

She sat down alone and ate in silence.