Shadow from the past

The sun poured through my bedroom window, but the light did little to chase away the shadows in my mind. I sat on the edge of my bed, fingers wrapped tightly around my phone, staring at Jason’s missed call. It was like a ghost haunting me, a reminder of a past I was desperate to leave behind.

I didn’t want to answer. Not now, not ever. But the sound of my phone buzzing again made my heart race. My walls, though cracking from Damien’s gentle persistence, were still firmly up when it came to Jason.

⸻

“Zara, are you ready?” Mum’s voice floated up from downstairs, cheerful and oblivious to the storm inside me.

“Almost,” I called back, sliding my phone into my purse.

Today was the first big public event since the engagement party—a charity gala hosted by the Kings family. It was all glamour and smiles on the surface, but beneath it was the silent pressure of expectations, and the weight of the past looming closer every second.

⸻

I slipped into a shimmering silver gown that hugged my figure perfectly. The fabric caught the light every time I moved, making me feel like I belonged here, even if I didn’t quite believe it.

Damien arrived to pick me up right on time. His presence was like a steady anchor, but even he couldn’t silence the whispers in my head.

As we drove to the gala, silence filled the car. I broke it.

“Hope he didn’t call…” Damien’s hands placed possessively on my thighs.

“No,” I replied quietly.

“Good,” he said, a dark glint in his eyes. “Because I don’t want my hands stained with blood.”

I looked at him, half-amused, half-worried. Was he really going to kill Jason for me?

⸻

The gala was everything I expected—flashy, crowded, filled with the rich and powerful. Cameras clicked relentlessly, and everywhere I turned, whispers trailed behind me.

Damien held my hand firmly as we moved through the crowd, introducing me to people who seemed important, though their names escaped me.

Then, from across the room, I saw her. Mia.

The woman who had shattered my world.

She stood with a smug smile, scanning the room as if she owned it. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes—clear as day, it was all fake.

“What is she doing here?” I suddenly whispered.

“You know her?” Damien asked, glancing around.

“What’s she doing here?” I repeated, ignoring his question.

“She’s my new secretary,” he said casually.

I said nothing, my heart pounding.

“Thought you said you watched, that you knew the faces from my past,” I challenged.

“Only know your story. Don’t care about the faces,” he replied, taking a sip of wine and offering me one.

“I’m good,” I said, pulling away from him.

⸻

I spotted Mia again near the refreshments table. I marched toward her, fury bubbling up inside me.

“If it isn’t the queen snitch herself,” I said, my voice sharp. She blinked, clearly shocked.

“What—”

“Oh, are you here to steal my new man?” I taunted, voice low. “Like you did with Jason.”

“Mia, I can explain,” she said, eyes full of fake sorrow.

“Oh, please, save it. Keep your ‘sorry’ to yourself. And stay far away from me, bitch,” I spat, turning my back on her.

I couldn’t believe she’d do this. I had trusted her when she needed help—only to get stabbed in the back. Forgiveness? Not in this lifetime.

⸻

The gala went on, but my nerves were frayed when I spotted another familiar face—Tina. The model who used to date Damien. She was dressed to kill, confidence dripping from every step. I rolled my eyes. Could this night get any worse?

She approached me like a lion stalking its prey.

“It’s finally nice to see you, Zara,” she said, voice dripping with venom. “Or should I say, Mrs. Kings?”

“Oh yes, you can call me Mrs. Kings,” I replied, letting the title sting her like a whip. Her expression faltered for just a moment—victory.

“What are you doing here?” Damien’s voice broke in from behind.

“I came to see you and say congratulations… and thanks for last night,” she said with a smirk that screamed she thought she’d won.

“Last night? What does she mean?” I asked, turning to Damien.

“Don’t mind her. I only helped her with my driver—she was stuck on the road and late for an appointment,” Damien said smoothly.

“Really? And you just decided to help?” I said, disbelief lacing my tone.

“It’s no big deal, Zara,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t feel like no big deal to me,” I muttered, turning away before I lost my temper.

⸻

That night after the gala, I found myself curled up on the couch, tears silently streaming down my face. Mandy appeared, sitting beside me without a word, pulling me into a comforting embrace.

“Hey, are you okay?” she whispered.

“I’m tired,” I admitted, voice cracking. “Tired of everything. Tired of trusting. Tired of loving. Tired of hurting.”

“It’s not your fault, Zara. None of this is,” Mandy soothed.

I let myself collapse into her arms, reminding myself I didn’t have to carry this weight alone.