His for a year. - Chapter 39: Chapter 39

Her smile was stiff—too polite to be real. “Ray. Can we have a moment?” She was already stepping inside, her tone too sweet not to be sour.
Ray turned to me, silently asking if I was okay.
I nodded faintly. He glanced back at Anna with clear distaste but walked out anyway.
She shut the door and turned around slowly, arms crossed.
“I’ll be honest with you, Olive,” she said, with the same fake sincerity she probably used in board meetings. “You should have left quietly. You should still leave quietly—before Zade throws you out himself. Because when that happens... it’ll be a lot more humiliating.”
I didn’t answer. My hands clenched at my sides.
She tilted her head, studying me. “I tried to help you. I gave you warnings. I told you this wasn’t going to end well. But you insisted on forcing yourself into a life that was never meant for you.”
She walked a few steps forward, stopping just in front of me.
“So disappear, Olive. While you still have some dignity left. And before you get dragged out of here like yesterday’s garbage.”
Then she smiled again. Almost like it gave her joy to say it.
She turned and walked out, heels clicking against the hardwood like punctuation.
And just like that, I was alone again.
Two voices clashed inside me:
Ray’s, warm and steady—take your power back.
Anna’s, cold and smug—disappear quietly.
One was the truth.
The other was a threat.
And I was running out of time to decide which one I would believe.
The room was too quiet again.
I sat still, letting the silence settle around me like a second skin. Anna’s words replayed in my head, but louder than all of them was Zade’s voice.
"You’re still a desperate girl."
A fresh ache bloomed in my chest, deeper this time—not just because of what he said, but because of how much I’d allowed myself to hope that he would never say it. That beneath all the ice, maybe he cared. That maybe… he saw me.
But he never had.
And now I was done pretending.
Maybe leaving would destroy me. The media would eat me alive for walking away from a billionaire husband. My name would be dragged, the contract would cost me two hundred thousand dollars I didn’t have, and my mother’s surgery remained unpaid. But anything was better than this prison.
Anything was better than being invisible in plain sight.
I could and would do anything to make sure mom got her surgery. To make sure Aliyah goes back to school. I'll find another alternative.
I stood and walked to the corner of the room. There wasn’t much to pack—just a few personal items I’d smuggled in over the months, and the old bag I’d sent ahead on the wedding day, the one that had my initials barely stitched on the side.
Everything fit. Too easily. Like a brutal confirmation: nothing here had ever really belonged to me.
Not the designer dresses.
Not the sparkling heels.
Not the house.
Not the man.
I unfastened the ring from my finger and stared at it. The diamond caught the dim light like it still had a story to tell. A beautiful lie.
I dropped it on the bed without a sound.
It was nightfall already. The house was quiet, shadows stretching along the walls like memories.
It was time to leave. To disappear.
I couldn’t leave through the front. Someone would notice—Leo, the guards, maybe even Zade. There would be shouting. Stares. Questions I had no strength left to answer.
So I grabbed my bag and took the hallway that led to the back entrance.
My phone buzzed in my hand as I requested a ride.
And that’s when I saw Ray.
Standing at the back door like fate had sent him to intercept me. His eyes were heavy—dark with grief and something else I couldn’t name.
“You’re really doing this?” he asked quietly.
I lowered her gaze.
He took a step closer, his voice trembling now. “Don’t go. Not like this. I know it’s hell in here, but we can get through it. Together. I’ll fight with you, cry with you, scream if that’s what it takes. You don’t have to do this alone.”
My throat closed up. I wanted to say thank you. Wanted to tell him that his words mattered more than he knew. I wanted to hang on to this little hope.
But my mind was made.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I stepped past him.
“Olive—”
“I have to,” I said, my voice shaking. “If I stay, I’ll lose what little I have left.”
He didn’t follow me. Maybe because he understood.
Maybe because he was breaking too.
I walked to the car, pulled the door shut behind me, and didn’t look back.
My fingers trembled in my lap as the driver pulled away. My vision blurred with tears. I didn’t know what I was doing. This could cost me my life.
But I still wanted to be far from here. Far from the lies. The cruelty. The constant ache of never being enough. Never fitting in.
I allowed myself to cry. Not just for what I was losing…But for everything I never really had.
As the Uber weaved through the quiet streets, I tapped my phone with shaking fingers.
“I’m coming. Please wait outside.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. I wasn’t sure I could handle any more words tonight.
The car pulled to a stop in front of the apartment. The porch light was on, casting a warm, yellow glow over the front steps.
Aliyah stood there, arms wrapped around herself, already waiting.
I stepped out of the car. I didn’t speak—just walked into her embrace. The hug was tight, too tight. The kind you give when you’re scared the other person will vanish if you let go.
Aliyah took the travel bag from me without a word and carried it inside.
Upstairs, the room smelled faintly of jasmine and something warm. Safe.
She placed the bag down and turned to speak, but the look on my face stopped her.
Whatever she wanted to say died on her lips. She nodded once and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.
I stood in silence for a long moment. Then I walked to the bed and let myself collapse onto it.
I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.
I was supposed to feel relieved. Triumphant, even. I had done the hard thing. I’d left. I’d finally taken control of my life.
But it didn’t feel like freedom.
It felt like a loss.
Like I’d just walked away from two heartbreaks at once.
Zade had never truly loved me, but somehow, it still felt like I’d left behind something important. And Ray… he’d tried to be there, to stay, and I shut the door on him too, always.
My chest felt hollow, like something inside me had cracked open and was slowly leaking.
Maybe it was hope. Or maybe it was just exhaustion.
I turned on my side, the pillow cool against my cheek. The quiet wrapped around me like a blanket, thick and strange.
Tears slipped down silently.
I didn’t even have the energy to wipe them.
And eventually, between the weight of the silence and the ache in my chest, I drifted off to sleep—alone in a room that didn’t hurt, but didn’t heal either.
Not yet.
The morning sunlight poured gently through the curtains, I brushed my face with soft light as I stirred at the faint knock on the door, followed by a creak as it opened.
Aliyah peeked in, balancing a tray with two mugs of tea and two slices of red velvet cake. "I brought sweet things," she said with a grin. "And a talk. With your younger sister."
I pushed myself upright, my smile faint but real. “You’re getting better with your younger-sister energy.”
She shrugged playfully. “I like the view from down here. Now move. Tea first, then truth.”
We settled on the bed, legs crossed like old times.
For a moment, we sipped in silence, the tea warm between my hands, the cake untouched.
“I’ve been meaning to ask…” my voice broke the stillness. “How did you know about the contract?”
Aliyah’s face darkened a little. She set the mug down. “Amanda.”
“Amanda?”