It’s a relief getting Back home, Nathaniel is waiting for us, his expression a mix of eagerness and worry. "What did the doctor say?" he asks, pulling me into his arms.“I'm okay; it's just exhaustion, and I might be coming down with something.” I look up to him. "Relax; I will be fine in time for the wedding.” I let out a laugh to soften the mood. He smiles, and he moves in to give me a kiss. I can smell whiskey on him. Nathaniel hates whiskey and never drinks in the middle of the day. Nathaniel’s grip tightens around me. "I'm glad you are okay.” He takes me into the house.Anna is lounging on the couch, a bottle of whiskey almost gone. The two glasses on the table catch my attention.“Don’t worry, me and Nathaniel were just catching up, like old times.” Anna's voice sends a stab through my chest. Everything she says holds so much weight.I shrug. “I am going upstairs; I need to rest.”What did Anna mean? It doesn’t matter; she’s leaving in two days. But a lot can happen in two days,

I slide into the back seat of the taxi, the door closing with a soft thud. As the car pulls away from the curb, I look back at the house one last time. It looms in the distance, a monument to a life that wasn’t meant to be.As we drive away, my thoughts swirl with memories. The laughter, the arguments, and the tender moments that made me believe in a future with Nathaniel. And then the betrayal, the pain, and the realization that I could never be enough for him. That he could never see me as more than a contract or an obligation. Why did he choose to sleep with me right after doing the same with Anna? Why did he say she meant nothing to him if he was just going to bring her to our house? Why wouldn’t he just ask me to leave instead of doing the same thing his nephew did?The city blurs by outside the window, and I press my forehead against the cool glass, trying to calm my racing heart. So many thoughts. I think of my mother, her strength, and her resilience. She raised me alone, and

NathanielI'm lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to find solace in sleep. The sheets feel cold, and the emptiness beside me is a stark reminder of what I've lost. Megra's absence is like a gaping wound, festering with every passing moment. I can't believe she left. I close my eyes, trying to imagine how hurt she must have been and the look of betrayal etched on her face. How did it come to this? I tried so hard not to let her find out my mistake.The darkness in the room mirrors the chaos in my mind. I turn on my side, clutching the pillow she used to rest her head on, and inhale deeply, hoping to catch a lingering scent of her. But it's gone, just like her. How can I fix this? How can I make things right with Megra now that she knows about my infidelity? My thoughts swirl, tangle, and messy. Guilt gnaws at me, relentless and unforgiving.I feel like I'm suffocating, the weight of my actions pressing down on my chest. The room feels stifling, the air thick with regret. I thr