HIS REGRET, MY REVENGE

Amara knew something was wrong the moment the door closed. The room was too quiet. Not peaceful… just quiet in a way that made her chest feel tight. She stood by the window, still in her wedding dress, fingers locked together so tightly they hurt. Outside, the night was calm like nothing had changed. But everything had. She was married. Just not the way she had imagined. The door opened. She didn’t turn immediately. She already knew it was him. No one else would walk in like that calm, controlled… like he owned the air in the room. “Are you going to stand there all night?” His voice was smooth. Flat. Amara slowly turned. For a second, she forgot how to breathe. He looked even more distant up close. No smile. No softness. Not even curiosity. Just… cold. “Come here,” he said. Not gently. Not harshly either. Just like it wasn’t a request. She walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last. When she stopped in front of him, he looked at her properly for the first time. Not like a husband. More like someone examining something he didn’t choose. You understand why this marriage happened, right?” he asked. Amara nodded. She understood. Or at least… she thought she did. Good,” he said. Then, without warning “I’m not interested in you.” It was so direct, it didn’t even sound real. Amara blinked. “What?” “I won’t repeat myself,” he said, already losing patience. “This marriage is just an arrangement. Don’t mistake it for anything else.” The words hit harder than she expected. Not because she didn’t prepare for this… But because hearing it felt different. Colder. Sharper. Amara swallowed. “Then… what do you expect from me?” He stepped closer. Too close. Her heart started racing, and she hated that he might notice. “Stay out of my life,” he said quietly. “And don’t create problems for me.” That was it. That was her place. Something inside her shifted. Not loudly. Not painfully. Just… quietly. Like something settling into place. “Alright,” she said. He paused. That answer clearly wasn’t what he expected. But he didn’t question it. He just nodded once and turned away. “Sleep wherever you want,” he added as he reached the door. “Just don’t expect me to care.” And then he left. Amara stood there for a while. Then she laughed. Softly. Once. “Don’t expect you to care?” she whispered. Her fingers brushed against her ring. Cold. Heavy. “Don’t worry,” she said quietly. “I won’t.” But as she sat down on the bed, staring at the empty space beside her… She realized something. She wasn’t hurt because he didn’t care. She was hurt because… For a second She had hoped he would.