CHAPTER NINE: I Forgot My Companion…

He was gone before I could even ask what he meant by "revealing." I stood there for a moment, a whirlwind of thoughts in my mind, but his words echoed, plus he was already fully dressed when he came to give me the gifts.

“Listen to your husband, respect his decisions for you.” The words caught up in my head, leaving me with no time to waste. I was to be ready, and I was to be revealing.

I went into the bathroom, which was even more lavish than the one I'd used the night before. The air was a symphony of fragrances: the sweet, delicate scent of rose, the fresh, clean aroma of lily, and the bright, zesty notes of orange. It was a scent that always made me feel calm, a stark contrast to the rush I just put myself in. The white tiled floor felt cool against my feet, a welcoming surface that made me want to simply lie down and relax.

I took a warm shower, scented with rose, and it washed away my worries. Even though I was still feeling sore in my core, I ignored the pains and readied myself for the task at hand.

When I was done, I walked to the walk-in closet and opened the doors. The sight was mesmerizing. Clothes of every colour were arranged in perfect harmony, but my eyes were drawn to a small, rainbow-colored cotton dress. I loved it and wanted to wear it so badly, then took it and checked it out, It felt like a perfect fit, something that would not only fulfil his request but also complement my skin.

"You want it so bad? I'll do more than that," I whispered, imagining I was speaking to Collins.

When I unfolded the dress, I was surprised to find it was a bandeau. It had a delicate tie from the chest to the neck area, and the hem was short and tight, promising to hug my figure.

The dress was more than just fabric; it was a second skin, a perfect whisper against my body. From the soft swell of my chest, it flowed downward, a seamless cascade of material that draped and hugged, ending precisely where it should—a tantalizing three inches below my backside. Every inch felt custom-made, a perfect union of fabric and form. It wasn't just a dress; it was a statement of elegance and confidence.

My breasts felt like they were going to burst out of the fabric, but I endured the discomfort. The dress worked perfectly with the new chain he had gifted me this morning. I fondled the pendant, and as I admired myself in the mirror, there was a faint knock on the door.

"Good day, ma'am," a man's voice called out. "The boss asked me to hand you this package."

"Another surprise?" I murmured to myself, then told him to come inside. He came in and placed several packages and boxes on the bed before bowing slightly and leaving.

“Thank you” I whispered, while giving a broad smile.

A box of makeup was already waiting for me on a glass table. I was astonished by the sheer thoughtfulness. He had truly provided everything. I applied a light touch of makeup, a bold slash of red lipstick, and put on a pair of butterfly earrings. I pulled my hair back, revealing my neckline.

I opened one of the boxes and found a pair of stiletto red heels and a red hermes purse. They were the perfect final touch. I put them on, and as I looked at my reflection, I felt a surge of confidence.

"Everything is giving!" I said to myself, smiling. I finished by spraying a little of Collins's cosy perfume on my body. The scent of him settled around me, and I felt like a princess, ready to take on the world.

The chill of the brass doorknob against my palm evaporated in a jolt of panic. My fingers, mid-twist, froze. A cold dread, sharp and sudden as a needle, pierced through me as the realization hit: my phone. I could have kicked myself. The memory of leaving it with Sarah, a day-old mistake, now felt like a fresh wound.

The air felt thin, a vacuum where a familiar weight should have been. My hand kept rubbing my hips, a phantom limb searching for its missing twin. My phone. My closest confidante, the digital extension of my soul, was gone. Not lost, but left behind. A betrayal of the most intimate kind.

A sharp tang of anger cut through the air, a metallic taste on my tongue. How could I have forgotten it? My phone, the keeper of secrets, the witness to late-night confessions and whispered dreams. It was my connection to the world, a lifeline tethering me to Sarah's laughter and my father's gruff affection.

A knot of unease tightened in my stomach. Sarah. Had she tried to send it? The silence from her was a heavy blanket, muffling the usual buzz of messages and calls. Has something happened? A cold dread, slick and oily, seeped into my bones. Or had my father, with his hawk-like gaze and unwavering disapproval, intervened? The thought sent a jolt of icy fear through me.

“You had better discard that phone of yours and focus on your upcoming wedding!.” He would have said because he had always seen my phone as a frivolous distraction, a rival for my attention.

The room, once filled with the warmth of gifts and embraces, now felt hollow and vast. Every material seemed to hold a question. Every sound of the clock ticks a judgment. The scent of my husband's perfume, usually a comfort, now seemed to carry a hint of something sour and unknown. My phone. The silent witness. The forgotten companion. Where was it? And why did its absence feel like a part of me had been ripped away?

An electric current of adrenaline shot through my veins, sparking every nerve ending to life. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the dying silence.

Ignoring the amplifying sound of the wall clock, I sprinted down the stairs, each step a desperate plea for speed. I needed to get to Collins’s drivers, to beg one to take me to Sarah’s, a beacon of hope in a sea of rising anxiety. But as I burst onto the ground floor, the sight that met my eyes slammed the brakes on my frantic rush.