Her fiance

The good man. The gentle man. The one her mother liked until today.

Of course, she muttered with a smirk. Right on cue.

She hesitated for a second, then swiped to answer.

Hello, Mr. Perfect, she said, her voice lilting with playful sarcasm.

There was a pause on the line before Jay spoke, his tone soft, warm and worried. Joanna, you sound different. Are you okay?

She laughed, the sound light and careless. Wow. Straight to the interrogation, huh? Can't a girl go out for a drink without being cross examined?

I'm not interrogating you, Jay said gently. I'm just... you sound like you've been drinking.

Bingo, she said cheerfully. You win the prize. What do I get? A lecture?

Joanna, please. It's almost midnight, he said, his voice tightening with concern. Where are you?

Somewhere between freedom and home, she teased. Why? Are you planning to track my steps like a GPS boyfriend?

He sighed. You know that's not what I mean. I just want to make sure you're safe.

Oh, please, she said, rolling her eyes as she walked. I'm fine, Jay I'm not some fragile princess who needs rescuing. You can relax.

Jay was silent for a moment. Then his voice came softer, almost pleading. Why are you being like this lately? You've been cold for weeks. You don't sound like yourself anymore.

Joanna smiled faintly to herself, though her eyes were suddenly sharp. Maybe I finally found myself. Maybe this is me.

That's not fair, he murmured. You're pushing everyone away, your mum, your friends, even me.

Correction, she said, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. I'm pushing away people who think they know what's best for me. That's not the same thing.

You're drunk, Jay said quietly.

Tipsy, she corrected, wagging a finger at the dark. There's a difference. Drunk people stumble. I'm walking straight as sin.

He let out a quiet breath, half a laugh, half a sigh. You're impossible.

And you're predictable, she countered. Always so calm, so good, so boring.

Boring? His tone rose slightly. Is that what you think of me?

She chuckled, though her chest ached faintly.

Jay, you're a sweet man. The kind mothers want their daughters to marry. But maybe I'm not that daughter anymore.

He was silent, but she could almost feel his hurt through the line. What does that even mean?

It means, she said, pausing under another flickering light, that maybe I want more than sweet words and a safe life. Maybe I want something that burns.

Something that burns destroys, he said softly.

She smiled bitterly. Then let it.

The silence between them grew heavy. Joanna wrapped her free arm around herself as the night breeze brushed her skin. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, and the sound of a car faded down the road.

Joanna, Jay said finally, his voice low and steady now. I know you're angry. I know your mum hurt you. But don't let that change who you are.

Joanna stopped walking. Did my mum call you again?

He hesitated. She was worried. She said you left the house in the evening and have not come back yet.

Joanna laughed harshly. Of course she did. Saint Mother of Perpetual Worry. Maybe she should mind her own life for once.

Joanna, she loves you, he said.

Love? she repeated, her tone mocking. If that's love, then I'd rather have enemies.

Don't talk like that, he whispered. She's still your mother.

She stopped being my mother the day she slapped me and called me a disgrace. Joanna snapped, her voice rising. All because I dared to think differently.

Jay's voice softened again. She was upset. You hurt her too, you know.

Joanna rolled her eyes and started walking again. You sound just like her.

I'm not taking sides, he said quickly. I'm trying to hold us together.

She laughed without humor. Then maybe you should stop trying. Maybe it's not worth holding anymore.

He went quiet for a long moment, and for the first time, Joanna heard his breathing falter. When he finally spoke, his voice was shaking slightly.

Do you still love me, Joanna?

She froze. Her heart gave a strange, tiny jolt. But her pride was louder.

Love? she said, forcing a light laugh. That's such a heavy word for a Friday night.

Please, he said softly. Don't joke. Just answer me.

She swallowed, then said lightly, I'll answer when you learn to stop sounding like my father.

That broke him. His voice cracked, thick with pain.

I don't even know who I'm talking to anymore.

Good, she said coldly. Maybe it's time you met the real me.

Joanna....

Jay, I'm tired, she interrupted, her tone suddenly distant. Go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow maybe.

She ended the call before he could reply.

The silence afterward was deafening. The hum of the streetlamps, the rustle of leaves, the rhythm of her heels it all felt too loud, too sharp.

She stared at her phone, then sighed and slipped it into her purse.

Men, she muttered. Always trying to fix what isn't broken.

But her chest was tight. Her throat ached. And when she blinked, her eyes burned faintly not from tears, of course. Never that.

She reached her street. The night was quieter here, the houses dark except for one porch light flickering near her gate. She fished her keys out, almost dropped them, and laughed at herself. "See? Still walking straight.

Her laughter echoed in the quiet, a little too loud, a little too empty.

Inside, the house was dark. The silence wrapped around her like a blanket, and suddenly the air felt heavy. She kicked off her shoes and sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the wall.

Her mother's voice haunted the silence. You'll regret this one day, Joanna

Joanna clenched her fists. "Never," she whispered.

Still, as she sat there, she felt something tug deep in her chest, a small, unwanted pang of guilt, or maybe loneliness. She shook it off, stood up, and went to the mirror.

Her reflection stared back fierce, beautiful, untamed. But behind the smudged eyeliner and painted lips, she saw something else too: fear.

She scoffed at herself. You're fine. You're winning.

But even she didn't believe it.

As the night stretched on, Joanna finally lay back on her couch, staring at the ceiling, her mind spinning between anger, pride, and a dangerous kind of excitement.

Because even if she didn't admit it yet, she is not sure if she's going the right part.

Jay sat awake on his bed, phone in hand. He replayed her laughter in his mind that strange, careless sound that didn't belong to the woman he loved.

He knew something was wrong. He couldn't explain how, but he felt it deep down, like a knot in his gut.

Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would go see her.

He needed to look her in the eye and understand what was happening and what she was hiding.

What if she doesn't love me again, no that's not the case he said to himself. He continued thinking all night till he slept off.

Mrs. Clara sat motionless on the couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her eyes were distant, unfocused. She hadn't eaten, hadn't slept. The events of the past few days had torn through her heart like a blade she couldn't pull out.

She had slapped her only daughter.

She had watched her walk away without looking back.

And she didn't even have the strength to regret it.

The faint sound of a car horn outside startled her. A few seconds later, the gate creaked open. A familiar voice called softly, Clara!!

Mrs. Clara's heart skipped. She knew that voice, warm, calm, graceful even when it carried worry.

Elizabeth, Her best friend. The woman she trusted more than anyone else.

And, unknowingly, the woman whose world her daughter had just set on fire.

Mrs. Clara took a deep breath, wiping quickly at her face before standing up. "Come in, Elizabeth," she said, trying to sound composed.

The door opened gently, and Elizabeth walked in elegantly as always, dressed in a soft blue gown that caught the sunlight as she moved. Her perfume filled the air, a delicate scent of lavender and grace.

But her face held a faint crease of concern. Clara she said softly, you didn't come to church yesterday, and you haven't answered my calls. I was worried.

Clara forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Ah, my dear, I've just been tired. You know how life is these days.

Elizabeth frowned slightly and sat beside her, taking her hand. Tired? No, this is more than tired. What's wrong? You look heavy, Clara. What happened?

Clara looked down at their joined hands. Her throat tightened. Words formed and died before they could leave her lips.

How could she say it?

How could she tell her best friend that her daughter the girl Elizabeth had watched grow up had betrayed them both?

She swallowed hard. It's... it's nothing, my sister. Just family issues.

Elizabeth's eyes softened. Is it Joanna?

Clara's heart clenched at the name. Yes. She's been difficult lately. You know how these children are.

Elizabeth smiled faintly. Ah! the same Joanna who used to run to me to complain about your strictness? She'll come around. She's just young.

Clara nodded, her lips trembling. I hope so.

Before Elizabeth could say more, the door to the hallway creaked. Both women turned.

Joanna appeared, barefoot, her silk robe tied loosely around her waist. Her hair was messy but somehow still elegant, her face fresh from sleep.

The faint scent of expensive cologne clung to her robe. Not her own.

Her eyes flicked from her mother to Elizabeth. Then a slow, amused smile curved her lips.

Anuty Elizabeth, Good morning!

Elizabeth's face lit up instantly. Joanna, my darling, You've grown so beautiful. I was just asking after you.

Were you? Joanna asked, leaning against the doorframe, her tone playful. That's sweet.

Clara shifted uncomfortably.

Joanna walked forward and sat on the arm of a chair, crossing her legs with careless grace. How's family Anuty?

We blessed God my darling! How's life treating you? Elizabeth asked.

God is awesome, Joanna replied.

The tone in her voice made Clara stiffen. She glanced sharply at her daughter, silently warning her to behave.

But Joanna only smirked. Actually Aunty, there's something I wanted to ask you.

Ask me? Elizabeth said, intrigued. Of course, go on.

Joanna tilted her head, studying Elizabeth for a long moment the flawless skin, the subtle jewelry, the gentle confidence of a woman who'd always had everything. Then she asked, voice deceptively sweet:

What would you say if we became co-wives?

The room fell silent.

Clara's breath caught. Her eyes flew wide in horror. Joanna!

Elizabeth blinked, confused. Co-wives? What kind of joke is that?

Joanna smiled lazily. No joke, Aunty. I'm just saying, maybe life has a way of connecting people in unexpected ways.

Joanna, that's enough! Clara snapped, her voice shaking.

But Joanna only turned to her mother, her smile widening. Why hide it, Mum? It's not like it'll stay secret for long.

Elizabeth frowned slightly, still not understanding. Hide what?

Clara's lips trembled. Elizabeth, please

I'm pregnant, Joanna interrupted, her voice clear and unashamed.

Elizabeth blinked, stunned. You're what?

Joanna rested a hand casually on her stomach. Pregnant. And before anyone starts preaching, let's just say the father isn't exactly an ordinary man.

Clara's voice broke. Joanna, stop this madness

But Joanna wasn't listening. She turned to Elizabeth, eyes glinting with cruel mischief. You might know him, actually. Mr. Leo Wong.

The air left the room.

Elizabeth's face went still no movement, no sound, just a sharp intake of breath. The color drained from her cheeks as her mind tried to process what she had just heard.

Clara covered her face with her hands, tears spilling down uncontrollably. Oh, God... forgive me.

The silence stretched painfully, every second heavier than the last.

Then, from the doorway, another voice cut through the tension low, trembling, disbelieving.

What did you just say?

All three women turned.

Jay stood frozen at the entrance, his shirt slightly wrinkled, his eyes wide in shock. His face was pale, almost ghostly.

He looked at Joanna as though he was seeing a stranger.

Jay!! Mrs. Clara gasped.

He stepped forward slowly, his voice barely a whisper. Joanna... please tell me you didn't mean that.

Joanna blinked, startled by his sudden presence.

You're pregnant? he asked, his tone trembling between hope and fear. Tell me it's mine, Joanna. Tell me

Her lips parted, but no sound came.

And in that silence, everything in his face changed. He understood.

He stumbled back a step, his breath catching. Oh my God. No...

Elizabeth sat frozen, her eyes glassy, still staring at Joanna as though she were an illusion that had gone terribly wrong.

Jay's voice rose, ragged now. You were supposed to be my fiancée! You said you loved me! Crying....

Joanna's throat tightened. The defiance in her eyes flickered, but only for a moment. Jay, I didn't plan it, she said softly. It just happened.

He laughed bitterly. It just happened? With her husband? He pointed toward Elizabeth, whose tears now fell silently down her face.

Clara buried her face in her hands. Lord have mercy

Jay's eyes were red, burning with heartbreak. Joanna, I gave you everything I had. I waited for you. I believed in you. And this is what I get?

She looked at him helplessly, every word she might have said dying on her tongue.

He shook his head slowly. You know what hurts the most? I would've forgiven you for anything. But not this. Not him.

He turned toward the door, his steps unsteady.

The door slammed behind him, the sound echoing through the small house like a final verdict.

Joanna stood trembling, staring at the closed door. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, but no tears came. Only silence.

Elizabeth stood at last, her face pale but composed. She turned to Clara, her voice cold but steady. You should have told me.

Clara wept harder. I couldn't, Elizabeth. I couldn't break your heart.

Elizabeth looked at Joanna one last time long, hard, unreadable. "Congratulations," she said quietly. You've destroyed more than you can ever rebuild.

Then she left, her heels clicking against the floor the sound sharp, deliberate, final.

When the door closed, Clara collapsed into the couch, sobbing uncontrollably. Joanna stood in the middle of the room, numb, staring at the space Elizabeth had just occupied.

For the first time, the weight of her choices began to sink in.

She'd wanted power, wealth, freedom.

But what she had instead was silence thick, suffocating silence and the knowledge that she had broken three hearts in one morning.

Outside, Elizabeth's car pulled away slowly from the compound. Her face was calm, but inside her, something dark began to stir a quiet, cold resolve that would one day return to rewrite every wrong.

Elizabeth, seated quietly in the living room when she heard the familiar hum of Mr. Leo's car pulling into the car park.

She heard the front door click open, then the deep baritone of her husband's voice drifting through the door.

Elizabeth!!

She smiled faintly and smoothed down her silk gown before calling back, I'm here.

He appeared in the doorway, loosening his tie, his features tired from the day but still striking, still every bit the charming billionaire the world adored.

The man who had built empires.

The man she had built a home with.

The father of her girls

Hmm, he exhaled, catching sight of the table. You waited for me?

Of course, she said softly, pouring him a glass of wine. You work so hard; the least I can do is share dinner with you.

Mr. Leo smiled, stepping closer. That's my love

He leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she turned slightly just enough for the kiss to land near her temple instead of her lips. The movement was subtle, unnoticeable to anyone else.

But he felt it.

Still, he said nothing, choosing instead to take his seat. Smells good. What's for dinner?

Your favorite, she said, lifting the cover off the dish. Steamed rice with spicy prawns. And red wine.

He chuckled. Now that's how to welcome a man home.

She smiled faintly and sat opposite him, watching as he began to eat. Every move he made, the way he avoided her eyes, the way he chewed too quickly spoke of a man holding a secret.

It wasn't guilt yet. It was fear, the quiet kind that hides beneath practiced charm.

Long day? she asked, her tone casual, soft.

He nodded. Exhausting. Board meetings, investors, the usual madness. He took another bite. You know how it is.

She nodded, sipping her wine. Yes. I know how you are when you're busy.

He looked up briefly, sensing something in her tone, but her face was unreadable calm, elegant, serene.

They ate in silence for a while. Only the soft clinking of cutlery filled the air.

Then spoke, her voice as gentle as ever. Leo, do you remember that trip to Australia?

He froze for just a second. It was small, almost imperceptible but she caught it.

He cleared his throat. Of course. That was two months ago. Why?

You were there for that business conference, weren't you?

Yes, he said quickly. And you were supposed to come with me, remember? But you had that charity gala.

I remember, she said quietly. I sent Joanna in my place. She wanted to see the world.

Her eyes didn't leave his face.

He looked at her for a long moment, then forced a light laugh. Ah, yes. Your goddaughter. She was excited about that trip

She was, Elizabeth agreed. Too excited, maybe.

The silence that followed was sharp, slicing through the air like thin glass.

Leo set down his fork slowly. Why are we talking about this, Elizabeth!

Because, she said softly, I saw her today.

He blinked. You saw Joanna?

She nodded. She came to see her mother. And I happened to be there.

Leo shifted in his seat. Oh. How's Clara?

She's not well, Elizabeth replied simply. Neither of them are, I think.

Her voice was light, but her eyes... her eyes didn't move.

He felt the weight of her gaze not accusing, not angry, but unsettlingly still.

Elizabeth, he said carefully, what exactly are you trying to say?

I'm not trying to say anything, Leo, she murmured, folding her hands on the table. I'm only repeating what I heard.

He frowned slightly. And what did you hear?

She paused, took a slow sip of her wine, and then said it calmly, like she was commenting on the weather.

That Joanna is pregnant.

The glass in his hand stilled.

For a moment, he didn't move, didn't breathe. His eyes flickered with confusion, then disbelief. What?

Pregnant. Elizabeth repeated, her tone even. And she claims you are the father.

Leo dropped the glass too quickly; it clinked against the table, spilling red wine across the white cloth. He grabbed a napkin, his movements shaky. That's ridiculous."

I thought so too, Elizabeth said softly.

He stared at her, his heart thundering. You can't possibly believe that, Elizabeth. You know me.

She tilted her head slightly. Do I?

That single question hung in the air.

Leo rubbed his forehead, standing abruptly. I made a mistake, he blurted out before realizing what he'd said. I mean it was one night! It meant nothing!

Her face didn't change. In Australia?

He froze. You knew?

I suspected, she said. I didn't want to. I told myself it was just business. But today, when I looked at that girl's face... I saw yours.

Her voice never trembled.

Leo's legs felt weak. He sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. Elizabeth, listen to me. It wasn't planned. She came to my room that night she said you sent her to give me something. She was different, vulnerable. I didn't think....

You didn't think at all, Elizabeth finished for him. That's usually how these things begin.

He exhaled shakily. I swear, it meant nothing. You'remy wife. You're everything to me.

Her eyes softened slightly, but her voice stayed cool. Then why did you hide it?

Silence filled the room again, broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock.

Finally, Leo spoke, his tone lower now, almost pleading. You have to believe me, she didn't tell me she's pregnant, I can fix this. I'll talk to her, make sure she understands her place. If she's really pregnant and I doubt she is, I'll handle it.

Handle it, Elizabeth repeated quietly.

Yes, he said quickly. I'll meet with her tomorrow. Just to confirm things. If she's lying, I'll make her stop this nonsense. If not... He hesitated, then added, If not, I'll offer her a settlement. Quietly. No need for scandal.

Elizabeth looked at him for a long time studying the man she once thought she knew.

Do you think money fixes everything, Leo?

He forced a smile. It helps.

She leaned back, her expression unreadable. I see.

He stood, trying to gauge her mood. You're quiet, Elizabeth too quiet. Please, don't let this come between us. I'll make it right, I promise

Her eyes lifted to his, calm and distant. Make it right, she echoed softly.

He nodded quickly. Yes. I'll meet her, confirm things, and end this once and for all.

Good, she murmured. You should rest now. It's been a long day.

He hesitated, uncertain, but she smiled faintly the kind of smile that made him believe, for now, that everything was still fine.

Thank you, Elizabeth, he said, touching her shoulder briefly.

She didn't flinch. She didn't pull away.

She only watched him leave, watched his back disappear down the hallway toward their bedroom, where he would sleep peacefully, believing he still had control.

When the door closed behind him, Elizabeth turned her gaze toward the half empty glass of wine.

Her hand was steady as she lifted it. The red liquid shimmered in the light, catching her reflection calm, composed, and cold.

She sipped once, slowly, then set the glass down.

No tears. No anger. No words.

Only silence.

The kind that births storms.