Episode 7
1931 Words
Part 1
Cold Distance
Three days passed.
Amika barely spoke to Nicholas.
Her father was transferred to another private hospital.
The treatment continued smoothly—
with money she raised herself.
Loans.
Sacrifices.
Everything she could still trade.
And help she no longer accepted from him.
Nicholas knew all of it.
From reports.
From his people.
From numbers she tried to hide.
But he didn’t interfere.
Not because he didn’t care—
but because her words still echoed in his head.
Don’t hide behind the contract to say you’re doing this for me.
On the fourth morning, Amika returned to King Estate.
Only to change clothes.
She crossed the grand hall without stopping.
Without looking.
Nicholas stood near the stairs, perfectly dressed, his expression unreadable.
“You’re back,” he said.
“Only temporarily,” she replied.
Polite.
Distant.
Professional.
Temporarily.
The word pushed him another step away.
“About the hospital—” he began.
“No,” she interrupted softly.
Every door closed at once.
Silence fell.
Cold.
Taut.
“I’m sorry,” Nicholas said at last.
Slowly.
Never this difficult before.
Amika stopped—but didn’t turn.
“What are you apologizing for?” she asked evenly.
He went still.
There were too many reasons.
No clear beginning.
“The doctor,” he said finally.
“I shouldn’t have decided for you.”
She turned.
Met his eyes directly.
“You shouldn’t have done it at all,” she said.
Not loud.
But final.
It wasn’t anger.
It was judgment.
“I’m trying to fix it,” Nicholas said, serious.
“You’re trying to ease your guilt,” she replied calmly.
“Not help me.”
That stopped him.
“You don’t need to stay this close to me,” Amika continued, her voice softening just slightly—yet distant.
“As long as we’re under contract,
we just do our duties. That’s enough.”
Duties.
Professional.
Sharper than any insult.
Nicholas nodded.
Slowly.
As if accepting terms he never wanted.
“Alright,” he said quietly.
“I won’t interfere in your life anymore.”
Amika didn’t answer.
She walked up the stairs, leaving him with a promise that sounded more like retreat than repair.
That night, Nicholas sat alone in his study.
Dim lights.
Stacks of documents untouched.
His phone vibrated.
The name made his brow tighten.
Selena.
He answered.
“I heard a few rumors,” she said lightly.
“Seems your wife is starting to live her own life.”
Nicholas stayed silent.
“If you let her go like that,” Selena continued,
“a man like you will lose more than you think.”
The call ended.
Nicholas set the phone down, his fist tightening.
For the first time, he understood—
Stepping back
wasn’t the same as making things right.
And if he didn’t learn
how to choose correctly—
he might lose Amika completely,
without even the right
to call it a mistake.
Part 2
Trying—But Still the Wrong Way
Morning arrived in silence.
The kind she was starting to get used to.
Amika left King Estate before dawn.
No goodbye.
No backward glance.
The same bus.
The same road.
A life she chose for herself.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
One name.
Nicholas.
She paused for half a second—
then ignored it.
Not because she was angry.
But because she didn’t want to fall back into the same cycle.
Where he helped.
And she owed him in ways she never agreed to.
The accounting firm was small.
White lights.
Plain desks.
Heavy workload.
Amika worked quietly.
Focused.
Ignoring the clock.
Until—
“Ms. Amika?”
She looked up.
A middle-aged man in a polite suit stood there, smiling.
“I’m from the bank,” he said, handing her a card.
“Regarding your loan.”
Her heart skipped.
“Is there a problem?” she asked carefully.
“No problem at all,” he replied.
“Just informing you that your interest rate has been reduced,
and the repayment period extended.”
She froze.
Confused.
“Who—” she started, then stopped.
She already knew.
“It’s a special condition from one of our major shareholders,” the man added gently, never saying the name.
Her chest felt heavy.
She thanked him.
But relief never came.
That evening, she returned to the estate.
Only to collect necessities.
Nicholas was waiting in the hall—
as if he knew she would come.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said calmly.
She looked at him, steady.
“But you did anyway.”
Silence.
“I just—”
He stopped, choosing his words.
“I wanted to make things easier for you.”
“Without asking me again,” she replied softly.
But clearly.
Nicholas exhaled slowly.
As if accepting something he’d been avoiding.
“I’m trying not to control,” he said.
“But I don’t know any other way.”
She went still.
It wasn’t an excuse.
But it still wasn’t an answer.
“If you really want to help,” she said at last,
“can you try trusting me?”
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“Alright.”
One word.
The hardest one for him.
Amika picked up a few things and walked to the door.
Before leaving, she turned back.
“Thank you for your intentions,” she said sincerely.
“But I want to stand on my own.”
The door closed.
Nicholas remained where he was.
Silent.
For the first time, he began to understand—
Real help
wasn’t doing everything for her.
It was letting go.
Even when the fear whispered
that she might walk too far away.
And that fear blinded him to one thing—
Someone else
was already watching.
Waiting for the right moment
to pull her out of his life
for good.
Part 3
A World Where He Is No Longer the Center
Morning in the city was loud.
Traffic.
Voices.
Life moving forward.
Amika stepped out of the train station.
The same canvas bag.
The same worn shoes.
But her heart—
no longer the same.
She had learned how to wake up early.
How to manage everything on her own.
How to endure exhaustion.
How to live with silence that didn’t wait for anyone.
The accounting office was small.
Not elegant.
Not impressive.
But it had space to breathe.
“You did great on this case, Amika,” her supervisor said, smiling.
“The client is very satisfied.”
Simple words.
Yet they warmed her
more than anything expensive ever had.
She smiled.
Lowered her head slightly.
“Thank you.”
For the first time in months,
she felt it clearly—
Her worth
was no longer tied to anyone’s last name.
Lunch break.
She ate alone.
Not lonely.
Her phone vibrated.
A short message appeared.
Your father is improving.
He smiled today.
No sender’s name.
She knew who it was.
Amika stared at the screen.
Then typed back.
Thank you for letting me know.
No questions.
No continuation.
The distance remained.
Clear.
Intentional.
That evening, Nicholas stood by the window of his office.
City lights stretched endlessly below.
His phone was in his hand.
Silent.
Reports lay on the desk.
Numbers were perfect.
Profits up.
Everything should have felt right.
Instead—
there was a hollow space in his chest.
“She hasn’t come back here,” his secretary reported softly, as if already knowing.
Nicholas nodded.
No emotion.
“Don’t follow her,” he said slowly.
As if ordering himself.
“Yes, sir.”
Alone again,
he closed his eyes.
The image returned.
Amika in plain clothes.
Walking out of the estate.
Not looking back.
Over and over.
For the first time,
he realized—
Not controlling anything
was harder
than controlling everything.
That night, Amika visited her father.
A small bag of fruit in her hands.
A genuine smile on her face.
“Don’t worry about me, Dad,” she said softly.
But firmly.
“I can take care of myself now.”
Her father looked at her.
His eyes gentle.
As if wanting to ask about someone.
But he didn’t.
She squeezed his hand.
Warm.
Steady.
In that moment, she knew—
Even without him by her side,
she could still stand.
And that truth
was becoming the one thing
Nicholas feared the most.
Because the world she was rebuilding
might no longer have space for him
at all.
Part 4
The Game Steps Into the Light
Amika stepped out of the office building.
Evening light painted the sky a dull shade of orange.
Her shoulders were heavy from a long day.
Her heart, for once, was calm.
A white car pulled up to the curb.
The window rolled down slowly.
“Would you like to talk for a moment?”
The voice.
She recognized it instantly.
Selena.
Amika stopped.
No surprise.
No retreat.
“If you want to talk,” she replied politely,
“we can do it right here.”
Selena smiled.
A knowing curve of her lips.
She opened the door and stepped out.
High heels clicked sharply against the pavement.
“You look different,” Selena said, her gaze sweeping Amika from head to toe.
“Like a woman who no longer needs anyone.”
“That’s exactly my goal,” Amika answered evenly.
Selena leaned against the car, arms crossed.
“Then I’ll be honest,” she said.
“Nicholas is turning back into who he used to be.
The kind of man no one should stand too close to.”
Amika looked at her.
Unshaken.
“Why tell me this?”
“Because you’re the variable,” Selena replied softly.
Dangerously.
“And I don’t like variables I can’t control.”
Amika let out a quiet laugh.
Not mocking.
Certain.
“I’m not your game,” she said.
“And I’m not his possession anymore.”
For a fraction of a second, Selena’s smile faltered.
Then it returned.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“That once you step away,
he’ll really let you go?”
The question landed like a needle.
Light.
But deep.
Amika didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t know yet.
“Be careful,” Selena whispered, stepping closer.
“Men like Nicholas—
when they lose control,
they’ll do anything
to reclaim what they believe is theirs.”
Amika met her gaze.
Steady.
“If he does,” she said,
“I’ll stand on my own.
Without anyone holding the reins.”
Selena laughed softly.
Cold.
“Then let’s see,” she said, turning back to the car.
“Who lasts longer.”
The car drove away.
Leaving Amika with a warning that refused to fade.
That night, Nicholas received an email.
No subject line.
Only attachments.
Photographs.
Amika.
Leaving her office.
Standing with Selena.
Angles that suggested intimacy.
Secrets.
Something hidden.
A short line beneath the images:
She wasn’t the only one who chose to step back.
Nicholas’s hand tightened.
His jaw clenched.
The fear he had been suppressing
was dragged back into the light.
He grabbed his car keys.
The decision came too fast.
Too reckless.
If he stayed still,
he would lose her.
If he moved,
he might make the same mistake again.
The office lights went out.
Along with the last of his restraint.
The game that once lived in the shadows
was being forced into the open.
And this time—
no one was sure
that the winner
wouldn’t be the one
who lost everything.
- Writer
