LOGINThe loud movement downstairs dragged me the hell out of sleep.
At first, I thought I was dreaming when I kept hearing voices and strange sounds in my head. The sounds came muffled through the wooden floors, persistent enough to keep tugging at my consciousness until I finally decided to open my eyes. My head throbbed. I lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to pull myself together after a messy night. The awkwardness and disgrace slowly returned to my mind in flashes. I turned to the other side of the bed and realised I was alone. If I weren’t so bent on living in a made-up reality, I would have realised the pattern that was going on. With one elbow I pushed myself up and pressed my palm into his pillow. The vibration from the nightstand broke the silence. I looked and noticed that it was Daniel’s phone that had lit up and not mine. I stared at it as it buzzed again, the sound too loud in the quiet room, calling out to my curiosity. There was only one name on his screen, and it belonged to Chloe, the secretary from the previous night. A message preview shimmered on the screen. CHLOE: [CAN’T WAIT TO GO OVER THE NEW CONTRACT DETAILS] I read it once, then again and again. The words were clean, professional and looked harmless to anyone who saw them. But at seven-thirty in the morning, in the bedroom I had shared with my husband for five years, they didn’t feel like anything. Something inside of me knew this was more than what it seemed to normal eyes. Downstairs, something thudded causing me to freeze. Another loud thud followed almost like furniture dragging across tile. I slid out of bed and tied my robe tightly around my waist. The wooden floor felt warm under my feet. When I opened the bedroom door, the noise hit me fully. The sound of footsteps, tools and instructions being dished out. I stepped into the hallway. Two men carrying a mattress brushed past me. “The guest room,” one muttered to the other. “He said the guest room.” The guest room? “Careful with that frame!” Daniel’s voice rang like a lion in the jungle. “If it scratches, I’ll deduct it from your pay.” I looked down the corridor. He stood at the far end, already dressed. He had pressed trousers and a crisp white shirt on. His hair was still damp from a shower. He held his tablet in one hand and gestured impatiently with the other. “No, not there, you twat! Closer to the window and use the Egyptian cotton sheets, not the regular ones.” I watched him for a full second before speaking. “Good morning.” He glanced at me briefly. “Morning.” Then his attention snapped right back to the movers. “Set up the Wi-Fi extender in that room. I don’t want complaints about the connection.” “What’s going on?” I asked. He didn’t answer. “Daniel?” He turned slowly, irritation already in his eyes. “Sorry. What is it?” “What’s going on?” Instead of answering, he leaned over the railing and shouted downstairs, “Where’s my coffee?!” His voice echoed through the house. “I feel like I ran into a building!” A housekeeper hurried past me with a tray. Daniel pressed his fingers against his temple. “Urgh. What happened last night?” Then he looked at me as if he’d just remembered I existed. “What were you saying?” I folded my arms across my chest. “I asked what’s going on.” He exhaled sharply. “Oh yeah. Come downstairs with me.” “That’s not an answer.” “Damn it, woman. Will you just do as you are asked?” He brushed past me without waiting, almost like I looked nothing like the woman he swore to love years ago. The staircase felt longer than usual. Staff moved around us with boxes, folded linens, and a standing lamp. I could smell fresh detergent mixing with the rich scent of brewing coffee. Daniel reached the kitchen first and pulled out a chair at the breakfast table. He sat heavily. A staff member placed a steaming mug in front of him. “Finally,” he muttered, wrapping both hands around it. “Was that so hard?” She lowered her eyes and stepped back. I stayed standing. “Daniel.” He took a long sip and winced. “Gosh. My head.” I waited. He looked up at me like I was the inconvenience. “Sit.” “I’m fine.” “What is happening in my house?” “Our house,” he corrected automatically. I held his gaze. “Then tell me.” He leaned back in his chair. “There are going to be some changes.” My stomach tightened. “What kind of changes?” “One of my staff lost their apartment,” he said casually. “Burst pipe which flooded everything. They need somewhere to stay for a few days.” “And?” I asked. “And I told them they could use the guest room.” I couldn’t believe he had really said that to my face. “You told them?” I repeated. “Yes.” “You didn’t think to ask me?” “It’s just temporary, Nina,” he said with a frown. “That’s not the point.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Then what’s the fuzz? It’s just a few days.” “Why can’t you give this person money?” I asked. “Or pay for a hotel somewhere?” He laughed, like actually laughed. “Would I be a good boss if I weren’t hospitable to my staff?” “That’s not hospitality. That’s moving them into our home.” He took another sip of coffee. “Hotels aren’t safe this time of year. Conferences everywhere. Strangers coming in and out. I’d rather know they’re somewhere secure.” “Secure?” My voice sharpened. “You mean here.” “Yes. Here.” I stepped closer to the table. “Well, my answer is no.” He paused mid-sip. “What?” “No. My answer is no.” I said clearly. “Go and tell the movers to stop the setup, all of it.” Silence spread across the kitchen. He set the cup down slowly. “You’re serious.” “Very.” I retorted. He studied my face like he was looking for weakness. “C’mon, Nina. You’re overreacting.” “I am not.” “It’s a guest room, Nina. It’s not like they’re moving into our bedroom.” “Wait a minute. You have to be kidding me, right?” he muttered. “Is this about last night?” I didn’t respond. “Grow up,” he snapped. “It was a charity event and I need the investors to invest.” “You humiliated me.” “I thanked my staff.” “You thanked her.” His jaw tightened. “She earned it.” “And what did I earn?” I asked quietly. “Tell me, Daniel?!” He stared at me. “Years of work,” I continued. “Nights reviewing your contracts. The promotions and career pursuits I declined for your sake. The money I poured into your ‘borrowed desk in my parents’ apartment.’ What did that earn me?” “This isn’t about that.” “It is to me.” He pushed his chair back abruptly and started walking away from me like I was taking all the air in the room. “You’re making this dramatic.” “I’m asking you to respect me.” “I do respect you.” “Then act like it and give me my flowers.” His expression hardened instantly. “You don’t get to dictate how I run my company.” “The same company I helped you build when you couldn’t even give a simple pitch?” “That was in the past. This house runs on the income I generate.” he shot back. The words stung because they were true. My life had taken a downward spiral when I pushed my dreams down the toilet to support Daniel. “I contributed to building that income,” I said evenly. He stepped closer. “I am the man of this house and you should remember your place!” Something inside me went very, very still. “Remember my place?” I repeated. “I make the decisions here,” he said, gesturing upward. “You make them alone now?” “Yes. You got that right, Nina!” “And I’m supposed to just… what? Smile?” “Support me.” “I have.” “Then keep doing it and let’s not argue over nothing.” I shook my head. “No way. Not like this.” He finally snapped into someone I had never seen. He slammed his coffee cup to the ground. It shattered all over, hot liquid spilling over the floor. Staff in the hallway froze and he didn’t even look at them. “Enough!” he ordered loudly. But a car horn sounded outside causing Daniel’s head to turn toward the front door. There was another honk and his irritation slowly turned into joy for some reason when he checked his watch. “Ah,” he murmured. I followed his gaze. “What do you know?” he muttered, straightening his shirt. “I think she is here already.” My guts dropped to the ground. “She?” He was already walking toward the door. I followed him. “She?” He didn’t slow down. “She?” My voice rose this time around. “The staff you’re helping is a lady?” He reached the front door and wrapped his hand around the handle. He glanced back at me with a plain, emotionless look on his face. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s my secretary, Chloe.”The diner was nothing like the places I usually ended up in.No glass walls, no polished marble, no staff who spoke like they were trained to measure every word. Just warm lighting, slightly worn booths, the soft clatter of plates, and the smell of fried food and coffee that had been brewed too many times but still somehow worked.I sat by the window even though there was nothing to see outside except a dim streetlight and the occasional passing car. It wasn’t about the view. It was about distance. From everything.Especially my kitchen.I exhaled slowly, pushing my fingers through my hair as I picked up the menu again for no reason at all. I already knew what I wanted. I just didn’t want to think.“You look like someone trying to negotiate with a menu,” a voice said.I looked up.The man standing there wasn’t flashy. Just… present. African American, calm expression, shirt slightly loose like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were observant in a
“Okay,” I muttered to myself, dropping my bag and tying my hair back. “We’re doing something normal to end the day.”Cooking counted as normal. I thought.I pulled out ingredients without thinking too much about it, setting them on the counter in a neat line like I was organising a presentation instead of making dinner. The knife felt unfamiliar in my hand when I picked it up, heavier than it should have been, but I started chopping anyway, a little too fast, a little too hard.After a few seconds, I reached for my phone and called Amanda, putting it on speaker as I kept working.She picked up almost immediately. “Tell me you didn’t just call me to say you didn’t go to therapy.”I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see me. “I went.”There was a pause, then, “And?”“It was pointless,” I said quickly, chopping harder than necessary. “Completely pointless. She just sat there asking obvious questions like she had discovered something profound.”Amanda hummed softly. “Uh-huh.”“No, se
“I still don’t understand why I had to come with you,” I muttered, pushing the grocery cart slowly as we moved down the produce aisle, my fingers tapping lightly against the handle like I needed something to do with the restlessness in my body.My neighbour laughed softly beside me, reaching for a bunch of tomatoes and inspecting them like she had all the time in the world. “Because,” she said, dropping them gently into the cart, “you’ve been locked in that apartment for days pretending you’re fine, and I decided I don’t believe you.”“I am fine,” I replied immediately, not even looking at her.“Mhm,” she hummed, clearly unconvinced. “That’s why you said yes so quickly when I asked you to come out.”“I needed groceries,” I said.“You needed air,” she corrected lightly.I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. It wasn’t worth it.We moved to the next aisle, the hum of refrigerators blending with quiet chatter from other shoppers, carts rolling, items shifting, everything normal in a w
I had been seated for almost five minutes now.The soft ticking of a clock somewhere behind me, the faint hum of air conditioning, the rustle of paper as the woman across from me adjusted something on her notepad. It all felt amplified, like the space was forcing me to notice things I would rather ignore.I sat on the edge of the couch, my back straight, my hands loosely clasped in my lap like I was trying to look like I belonged there. I didn’t. The neutral tones of the room, the soft lighting, the carefully arranged furniture—it all felt too intentional, too calm, like it was designed to pull things out of people.I didn’t like that.“What brought you here, Nina?” she asked gently.Her voice was calm and direct, as if she had all the time in the world.I shrugged, keeping my eyes anywhere but directly on her. “A friend of mine, I suppose.”“Not you?” she asked. “This wasn’t your idea?”I let out a small breath, shifting slightly in my seat. “I didn’t say it was.”She nodded once, li
I moved through the space like I had something to prove, heels clicking in sharp, steady rhythms against the floor as I walked past desks, conversations, and people who greeted me with smiles I barely returned. My laptop was tucked under my arm, my phone in my hand, my mind locked on tasks, deadlines, numbers, anything that didn’t involve thinking about him.“Morning, Nina,” someone called out.“Morning,” I replied automatically, not slowing down.I didn’t stop moving. That was the point. If I kept moving, kept working, kept everything tight and controlled, then maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with anything else. Maybe I wouldn’t have to think about elevators, or mistakes, or the way his eyes had looked at me after.I turned a corner too fast.And walked straight into him.The impact wasn’t hard, but it was enough. My coffee tilted in my hand, hot liquid spilling forward before I could stop it, soaking into the front of his shirt.Everything froze.For a second, neither of us
The café was too calm for how loud my head was.Amanda was talking about something—I caught pieces of it, something about a client, a ridiculous meeting, a joke she clearly expected me to laugh at—but the words slid past me without sticking. I sat across from her, stirring my drink long after the sugar had dissolved, the spoon clinking softly against the glass in a rhythm that didn’t match anything except the tension sitting under my skin. My fingers tapped against the table between stirs, restless, betraying everything I was trying to keep contained.“Nina.”I didn’t respond.“Nina.”“What?” I snapped lightly, not even looking up.Amanda went quiet for a second, then leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as she studied me. “Okay… what happened?”“Nothing,” I said immediately, the word automatic, too quick.She raised a brow, unimpressed. “You only say ‘nothing’ when something is very wrong.”“I always say nothing,” I muttered, finally looking at her.“And I always ignore it,” s
The moment I pushed the door open, laughter hit me first.It was careless, almost childish, and it didn’t belong in my house. I stepped into the living room and stopped, my fingers squeezing my purse as my eyes landed on them.Daniel and Olivia.They were sprawled across the couch, a bowl of popcor
“Jesus Christ! What the hell are you doing in my house?!” I mouthed off silently at him.Liam didn’t even flinch. Instead, he leaned back slightly against the counter, looking at me like something was amusing about all of this to him. Then he laughed, the same one that drew me closer to him at the
The music swelled louder as the ceremony turned into a full-blown party, laughter rising in waves across the reception. Glasses of champagne clinked together as the day suddenly began to give way to the night. There I was standing near one of the cocktail tables, fingers wrapped loosely around an
The drive back was quieter than I expected. Not the kind of silence that anyone would love to be a part of, but the heavy kind that pressed against your chest and made every breath feel deliberate. What wouldn’t stop annoying was the damned radio that felt this was the right moment for a slow song







