The invisible wife

Amara stood at the front of her glass-walled office, looking at the sprawling cityscape. The skyline, a jagged silhouette framed against the fading twilight speaks of the ambition she has kept going, a quiet success she has acquired leading her parents company. But this doesn't change the fact that life happens in a way she did not predict. As day folded into night, the neon light began to twinkle to life, the hope she once had now dulled from the weight of unpredictable loneliness. She was a woman with a calm spirit, a composed person, she carried a quiet grace that can not be recognised. Amara is not a person that's noticed at first glance. But outside of this silence there's a woman of strength and resilience, a woman with so many losses but yet chose love all over again. She turned away from the view, trying not to think too much of the seductive grasp of nostalgia. After all, her action commandeering her sleek but somehow, behind her carefully curated collection, lay lingering cracks of weariness and doubt. "Mrs Hayes!, the reports are here”, Ava, her assistant said while entering the office, pulling Amara out of her thoughts. She smiled, a reflex of action not an expression of joy. "That's good news, Ava", she said. We have to prepare for a meeting tomorrow and ensure the team is ready to discuss the next move. Her words reverberated with professionalism, but her mind lingered at home where her husband is likely busy with his work, the dinner in the fridge, their inexcusable plans. She felt betrayed. Even with the endless meetings, negotiations and pressures of deadlines, there's always a familiar anguish that surfaced anytime she remembers her husband's name, she's always caught hoping for a whispered apology or an excuse. Yet his absence at their last scheduled dinner was something she couldn't shake off, it was louder than any words he could have offered. She pictured to the day, a table set for two, romantic cocoons nestled between their modern apartment. Wine decanted, her heart fluttered, anticipating, as she was waiting, she busied herself, preparing, hoping to rekindle the embers of their marriage. Minutes slipped into hours, all in vain, her excitement turned into a pool of disappointment. The tick of the clock echoed the distance that had formed between them. After waiting for too long, she sent a message, “Are you coming soon? I made your favorite”. She stared at the phone and dozed off while waiting for his reply. A reply emerged hours later, “I have an important meeting tonight, I won't be coming home, see you tomorrow… sorry”. The “sorry” is for what? Daniel! How can you not see? This marriage is falling apart everyday"… she murmured. The weight of the sentence pressed down harder than she anticipated. Amara couldn't sleep, she was awake, as the evening transitioned into morning. Fighting the tide of feelings that could pull her down. "is this what success looks like?" She asks beneath herself. "Climbing the ladder of success while crumbling another person's life relentlessly". After that pivotal night, communication became a luxury they could not afford. They did not confront any issues that could be discussed, they pretended to each other like everything was okay. At the office, Amara was an adroit leader, directing teams with a flick of her wrist. But at home, she falters. That morning, Amara was wrapped in her daily routine. She prepared for the day ahead amidst the familiar rustle and the insistent ping of notifications. Things were becoming easier at the office but still her mind couldn't drift away from her husband's face and the echoes of his laughter that had once made her feel safe. The crushing irony of her situation bore down on her, her professional life thrived while her marriage flickered dimly like a candle on its last breath. She felt like a ghost, haunting her own life. Her friends would admire her, single out her achievements as they navigated their own relationships, often glossing over the truth, Amara felt increasingly invisible. Another lonely evening after work, she sat at the balcony of “The Hayes apartment” the city erupted into vibrancy beneath her. a pulsating sea of lights and lives intertwining, oblivious to her internal storm. Each light flickering in the distance seemed to be a representation of a different life, laughter, love, connection. It was enough to make her feel like a mere spectator. Amara began to reflect on everything going on with her marriage and how she has been too quiet, how her marriage is falling apart before her eyes. What am I doing? A successful heiress caught in a gears of a marriage that was at least currently stagnant. How did we get to this point? Was it too late for change? These questions lingered through her mind like a tidal wave. She was ready to confront the undeniable truth of her marriage, the void that expanded every time Daniel prioritized work over her. As the cold air touches her skin, she savored it, allowing the emotions to bubble to the surface. Tears stung her eyes when she felt the fear of remaining ensnared in the cycle of abandonment. "You are worth more than this, Amara”, she said in a shaken voice. The words floating into the air, a rebellion against circumstance. At that moment she had clarity, standing with a decision. She realized that she could not allow herself to be invisible anymore. I want transformation, this is necessary for myself and my marriage. It's time to confront Daniel, to break through the barriers built on professions. And with that determination, she walked back inside the apartment, prepared to face the next chapter of her life.