Missing the Old Days

AYAH'S POV

"Please… I don’t want everyone to know I’m associated with the richest family in the country. Besides, I already disowned you when you didn’t support me in my marriage," I said, feeling the familiar weight of dissatisfaction settle on my chest.

"Ayah, you clearly don’t know what you’re getting into. Your husband doesn’t love you," my mother said, trying to plant doubt in my mind. I shook my head. No. I knew the truth.

"No. I know he loves me," I said firmly. "Mia doesn’t have anyone—no relatives, no friends. Only my husband can be there for her. I understand what they’re doing. Don’t come near me again." Without hesitation, I left her behind.

As I drove, my vision blurred. I nearly swerved into another car. My exhaustion, my heartbreak, the heaviness in my chest—it was all too much.

When I got home, I felt numb. Empty. Walking into the house where we had once been so happy felt like stepping into a memory I no longer belonged to. What had happened to my marriage? Ten years of love, of trust, and I had always believed that misunderstandings were just part of being together. But this… another woman, his childhood sweetheart, stepping into our lives. Could he really turn his back on me?

After hours of crying, I forced myself to freshen up. When I heard Ethan’s car pull into the driveway, I pretended to be busy cleaning the house.

"Honey," I greeted him, trying to sound bright. I leaned in to kiss him, but he flinched, avoiding me.

"I didn’t like what you did today. I hope you’ll never be someone I hate. You’ve become… immature all of a sudden. What’s wrong with you?" His words hit me like a knife. Was this really my fault? I swallowed my pride and forced a faint smile.

"O-of course… I won’t be immature. I was wrong," I whispered, biting back every ounce of hurt, desperate to keep the peace. He didn’t reply—he only went upstairs. I followed quietly.

"What do you want for dinner?" I asked softly, trying to soften the tension.

"I’m not hungry," he said coldly. I hesitated. Should I tell him I was pregnant? But seeing his indifferent expression, I felt like it didn’t matter.

"Honey," I said again, my voice sweeter this time, hoping to wish him a happy anniversary and give him the gift I had prepared. I hugged him, but he removed my arms.

"Stop being annoying. I’m tired. I want to rest. Which part of that don’t you understand?" he snapped. I smiled awkwardly and let him be.

That night, sleep didn’t come. He had clearly forgotten that today was our fifth wedding anniversary. I stared at the gifts I had prepared. All my love, all my care, felt meaningless. All I could feel was pity—for myself.

I went to the room I owned—the only room with my key. Inside, my safe held letters, gifts, and my pregnancy records. I locked it carefully and looked around. That’s when I noticed my old phone, a gift from my father ten years ago. It still worked.

Thinking of my family and friends, and how harshly I had treated them when I disowned them, tears rolled down my cheeks. All the happy memories flashed before me. How had I become so different? My sweet, open personality had turned guarded; my bold, noisy mouth now only gave awkward smiles. I had no one to talk to.

I opened my old phone and saw messages from the people who mattered most. I wanted to reach out, but didn’t know what to say. How were Kyla, Xette, Isaac…? My parents and grandparents? My older brother? My younger sister? They all must believe I hated them.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. My chest ached. I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my sobs.

As I was about to put the phone back, a message popped up:

"I know you didn’t leave us. Where are you?"

It was from my closest friend—Isaac. My fingers shook as I called him immediately, desperate to hear a familiar voice.

"Ayah? Ayah, is that really you? Talk to me!" His voice filled me with a warmth I hadn’t realized I was craving.

"Isaac…" I whispered, barely able to speak.

"Ayah! What happened to you?" I hesitated. I couldn’t tell him about Ethan, Mia, or everything that had gone wrong. My throat tightened, and I ended the call. He tried calling back, but I ignored it. I laughed bitterly at myself. Had I really been gone from everyone for so long?

Scrolling through my contacts, I found Bryan’s number. Seeing our old messages made my cheeks burn. I had chased him desperately back then, only to reject him when I fell in love with Ethan. Ironic. On impulse, I dialed.

No—

"Hmm?" His calm, familiar voice answered. My heart raced. I didn’t know what to say.

"Bry—" I froze as a chill ran down my spine. Ethan’s footsteps sounded outside the door.

"Ayah, what are you doing there?" he asked coldly. My heart jumped. I hid my phone quickly.

"I… I was just… cleaning my old room," I stammered, trying to sound natural. Ethan nodded. "I know you will listen to me. You won't use your phone to communicate with people who will not contribute any good to our marriage, right?"

"Of course, honey, I know you want the best for me." After that, I heard footsteps going away.

I exhaled, glancing at my phone. The call was still active. Bryan’s voice floated through the line.

"Do you really want to stay there?" he asked softly, as if he could read my mind.

"Yes," I whispered, ending the call. But deep inside, a question lingered—do I really want to stay? Or am I fooling myself, just trying to please a husband who doesn’t seem to care?

He didn't answer. That's when, I ended the call. I was about to put it back again, when I received a message from a random number. I opened it, and i feel like my soul will be shattered.

It's a picture of Ethan with Mia on a bed at the hotel. Making love.