POV Esther
After he disappeared down the stairs… the silence fell again.
I suddenly felt… alone. Completely alone. I don't know anyone here… nothing feels familiar… and this house…
it makes me feel like I don't belong here. I just want to go back to my parents' house. I want to see my mother and my father, I want to be with them… but I can't. I can't give up at the first difficulty. I don't want them to be disappointed in me, to think I'm not good enough.
No. I can't. I've never run away from a problem or a difficulty. It's not today that I'm going to give up.
A hand gently rests on my shoulder, pulling me suddenly out of my thoughts.
— Are you okay? Samira asks in a soft, reassuring voice.
I simply nod, without really looking at her. We are only two, the others have left.
The truth… is that I feel a little ashamed.
Ashamed of what just happened.
Her parents argued…
because of me, all because I couldn't keep my mouth shut in that jewelry store.
— Don't worry…
I lift my head immediately, a little surprised.
— What?
She lets out a small laugh.
— You think out loud.
I blink, a little embarrassed.
It happens to me… often, to think out loud.
— I'm sorry…
She gently shakes her head.
— No… it's up to us to apologize.
Her voice becomes more serious but still just as reassuring.
— My mother should never have spoken to you like that. Even if you had a disagreement… she had no right.
I stay silent, not knowing what to say. She's never been like that, apparently… but she made an exception for me.
— She's not like that usually… Samira adds more softly. Even if sometimes she's strict.
She places a comforting hand on mine.
— But don't think you're the problem, okay?
I finally look at her and in her eyes… there is no judgment, no reproach. Just… sincerity. And it makes me feel a little less like a stranger here.
— Now come with me… I'll show you your room. You look tired, and it's getting late.
I simply nod.
I don't even have the strength to answer. We go up the stairs, then slowly walk down the long silent hallway. My footsteps echo slightly, as if the house itself is listening to my every move.
We finally stop in front of a door.
Samira opens it, then gestures for me to enter.
I step inside… and freeze for a moment. The room is huge, nothing like a simple bedroom.
It's almost… an apartment on its own.
Right at the entrance, a small living room stretches to the left. A dark leather sofa, wide and perfectly structured, accompanied by two elegant armchairs and a glass coffee table. Everything is sober, masculine… but with impeccable taste. I must admit, he has good taste.
The colors are deep: gray, black, a few touches of dark wood… nothing excessive, everything perfectly balanced.
A little further, I notice a slightly open door that surely leads to the dressing room.
And on the other side… another door.
The bathroom. I also notice a large bay window overlooking the garden and the front entrance, which I will visit later.
In the center of the room, the bed immediately catches the eye. Large, wide enough for four people. Covered with impeccable sheets, in neutral tones, perfectly smooth… Two nightstands on each side, minimalist but elegant, with designer lamps casting soft light.
A large dark wooden dresser is placed against the wall, topped with a large mirror reflecting the whole room, making the space feel even bigger.
Everything is clean. Structured. Controlled. Just like him.
This room breathes order… mastery… control.
But strangely… it's also warm.
I stand there, motionless, my eyes scanning every detail, a little impressed, a little lost too. Because this room…
doesn't look like me at all.
— Here… this is your room.
She pauses, then smiles slightly.
— Oops… I mean your room.
I glance around again, still impressed.
— As you can see, everything is clean. Nothing sticks out. Tony hates disorder… even more when things don't go his way.
Hmm… I didn't know he was obsessive.
"Normal… you don't know anything about him," my conscience whispers.
— Thank you…
She immediately shakes her head.
— Don't thank me, I'm doing this with pleasure. And then… make yourself at home, because now… this is your home too.
Her words are reassuring and touch me deeply.
— Okay…
She looks at me carefully, then slightly narrows her eyes.
— Now get some rest… because we can read the fatigue on your face from miles away.
I let out a small laugh despite myself. She's right, I'm completely exhausted.
— And your luggage is in the dressing room. Your mother had it sent yesterday… and I arranged it myself.
I look at her, a little surprised.
She is… so kind.
So gentle.
— Thank you very much…
— Stop thanking me, she says with a smile. Consider me like your big sister… not just your sister-in-law.
Her voice becomes more sincere.
— I'm really happy to have you here…
In response, I smile.
And without realizing it… she pulls me into her arms.
She hugs me tightly, a warm embrace.
As if… as if I were truly her sister.
I stay still for a second… then I let myself go into that embrace that warms my heart in a way I can't explain.
She gently pulls away, looks at me for a moment… then whispers:
— I'll let you rest. And… welcome to the family.
I simply nod and she leaves the room, leaving me alone.
The silence returns, but this time…
it feels a little less heavy, less suffocating. I walk into the dressing room… which is just as huge.
The walls are entirely covered with perfectly organized shelves. Rows of clothes aligned with almost unreal precision. Impeccably tailored suits, shirts made of fine fabrics, jackets with elegant cuts… everything breathes luxury and refinement.
Further on, entire shelves are dedicated to shoes. Pairs carefully arranged, polished, some that I recognize as high-end luxury brands.
And in another section…
watches. Imposing, elegant pieces, perfectly displayed in cases. Rolexes. Everything is… perfect.
I step forward, almost intimidated… and notice my suitcases in a corner.
Three suitcases to be precise. I grab one and sit down on the carpet, on the floor, I open it and find…
clothes. Long, elegant dresses, with simple yet refined cuts. Discreet outfits, but undeniably chic. Quality fabrics, soft colors… clothes… worthy of a married woman.
I slowly close the suitcase.
These aren't my clothes… it must be my mother… she surely did all this.
I take a second suitcase, open it, and find the same thing.
Carefully chosen outfits… evening dresses, dinner outfits, and more.
Where are my other clothes? My t-shirts, my dresses, my pants, my shorts…
I hope the third one will be the right one. I grab it and open it.
And I close it immediately.
My heart skips a beat. I rub my eyes to see if that's really what I saw… maybe it's just the fatigue playing tricks on me.
Slowly… I open it again.
Just to be sure, and yes… I wasn't mistaken. That's exactly it.
Nightgowns. Light, delicate fabrics… almost transparent.
In all colors. Some more modest… others much more daring than the rest.
Clothes made to seduce.
To attract attention.
I swallow hard.
My fingers brush against the fabric… and I pull my hand away immediately, as if it burned.
Seriously… she dared to send me this. A mix of embarrassment… and confusion runs through me.
She really thought of everything.
I slowly close the suitcase.
My heart still slightly unsettled.
Because now… I clearly understand what is expected of me.
And that idea… scares me more than I want to admit.
I quickly grab my pajamas, still a bit shaken, then leave the dressing room and head to the bathroom.
I open the door… and stop dead.
It is just as huge.
Everything here is huge, it's incredible.
The floor is covered in light marble, shiny, cold under my feet. The walls alternate between smooth surfaces and touches of dark stone, giving the room an almost unreal elegance.
In the center, a large bathtub stands, modern, perfectly sculpted… like something out of a luxury hotel.
A little further, a walk-in shower, with transparent glass walls, spacious, flawless.
The lights are soft, slightly dimmed, giving the room a soothing… almost intimate atmosphere.
Everything here breathes luxury… calm… control.
I place my pajamas on the counter, then turn on the water.
I slowly immerse myself in the bath and feel the tension leave my body. The warmth of the water wraps around me, relaxes me, soothes every tense muscle, every noisy thought.
I close my eyes.
And for the first time in hours… I truly breathe. The silence… the warmth… it feels good.
I stay there for a few minutes, letting everything settle down.
Then, slowly, I get out of the water.
Reality comes back gently…
but a little less heavy than before.
I put on my pajamas, still a bit lost in my thoughts… then I slip gently into bed.
I lie there, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
And the questions come back.
Again.
I don't know what to do…
I don't know how this new life will unfold.
Everything here is new to me.
This house… this family… this marriage…
I don't even know if I'll manage to find balance… or if I'll just lose myself trying to build something stable.
I slightly grip the sheets between my fingers.
All I know…
is that my mother-in-law already doesn't like me.
And what if the others are the same?
What if they don't accept me either?
Then what…
What will I do?
Will I go back to my parents… as if none of this ever existed?
Or will I stay here… fighting for a place that might not even be meant for me?
I close my eyes.
The thoughts tangle… collide… become more and more blurred.
Fatigue finally takes over.
And without even realizing it… I slowly drift into the arms of sleep.
I wake up slowly…
My eyes fixed on the ceiling.
This ceiling… unfamiliar, like a silent reminder that everything has changed.
That I am no longer home.
I slowly sit up, still a little lost, then sit on the bed. I glance around me. The room is empty.
There's no one. My gaze drifts to the other side of the bed, untouched and cold.
He… he's not even there. He didn't even sleep here. Is he avoiding me…?
Or does he already not want to be with me…?
During my sleep last night, I woke up with a start, my heart pounding.
Because I had felt something… or rather, a presence.
As if someone was there… right next to me.
Was it real…? Or just my imagination… playing tricks on me in this place I still don't know?
I run a hand over my face, still unsettled.
But deep down… a strange feeling lingers, as if I hadn't dreamed.
I quickly push those thoughts away. I get up, still a bit shaken, and head to the bathroom.
Cold water runs over me… and little by little, it washes away all the stress, the doubts, and that fear of being alone.
I close my eyes, letting the water slide over my skin, as if it could truly erase what I feel.
A few minutes later, I step out and put on a robe. I head to the dressing room. My things are still in the suitcases… I'll put them away later. I don't yet have the strength to make this place mine.
I scan the clothes, then choose a long sky-blue dress, with long sleeves, simple and elegant.
I have to admit… the dresses she chose for me are really beautiful, classic, yet unique. They give me a new image of myself… one I don't know yet. I put on a matching pair of sandals.
Then I stand in front of the mirror and observe myself for a long moment.
This is no longer really me…
Or maybe… a version of me I never allowed to exist. More composed. More womanly.
I tilt my head slightly, a little surprised.
— It's not so bad, I whisper.
I leave the dressing room and sit down at the vanity. I take the towel and start gently drying my hair when the door opens—Tony.
I look at him through the mirror.
His reflection appears behind me.
He looks… calm.
Nothing like last night.
His face is more relaxed, less harsh… as if the anger faded during the night.
I watch him in silence, barely breathing.
Maybe…
he's less mad at me.
Maybe he… forgave me for what I did.
My heart starts beating a little faster, and I don't even understand why.
I stay still, unable to look away.
And him… he slowly starts walking toward me. Each step echoes softly in the room… bringing him closer and closer.
And me… I don't even know what to do.
I just sit there, staring into nothing.
Should I greet him…?
Or apologize…?
But apologize for what, exactly…?
"Don't be stupid, Esther…" my conscience whispers.
I press my lips together slightly. It's starting to annoy me.
While I'm still thinking… he walks right past me.
Without even looking at me. Without a word. As if I don't exist.
He just keeps going and enters the bathroom.
The door closes, leaving behind a heavy silence.
So I conclude he's still just as mad at me.
I thought he would forget everything… but no.
He seems like the kind of person who holds grudges… well, everything points to that.
I brush the thought aside and go back to what I was doing before he came in. I finish my hair, taking my time to style it properly. Then I put on a bit of makeup. Nothing too much—I've never been the type to overdo it… just something simple, enough to feel good, to feel… like myself.
I try to stay focused, to keep my mind busy, as if it could calm this strange mix of feelings stirring inside me since he walked in.
I go about my routine when suddenly, the bathroom door opens.
I lift my eyes toward him… and see him through the large mirror in the room.
My breath catches instantly.
He's standing there, shirtless, a simple towel wrapped around his waist. I freeze, unable to look away.
And him… he doesn't seem embarrassed at all. He looks at me calmly, as if all of this is… completely normal, with a slight smile at the corner of his lips.
But me… my eyes drift despite myself over his firm, well-defined torso, still slightly damp… drops of water bead on his skin and slowly slide down, tracing every line of his muscles… following the path of his abs.
At the sight, I bite my lower lip without even realizing it. My eyes follow… without my control, as if I've lost it completely.
My gaze shifts to his arms… strong… tense, with faint veins showing beneath his skin… and I feel something tighten deep inside me.
I swallow hard. I open my mouth but no words come out. I don't know what's happening to me… it's the first time I've ever felt this.
Heat suddenly rushes through me. My cheeks burn. My heart races as if it's about to burst out of my chest. A strange sensation spreads through my entire body… like an uncontrollable electric shock.
Why am I suddenly so hot…?
I can't think anymore. I can't even breathe properly. Is this normal… or is it just me? Who turned off the air conditioning…? Because right now… I feel way too hot.
Maybe I should look away… maybe stop staring at his body and focus on what I was doing.
But no… my eyes, traitorous, refuse to cooperate. They keep moving lower… as if drawn by a magnet.
A very beautiful magnet, I must admit.
— Hey… I'm talking to you. Are you deaf, or are you just pretending not to hear me?
His voice makes me jump, snapping me out of my thoughts. I immediately look away, embarrassed.
— Do you listen when someone talks to you?
I slightly turn my head toward him, still shaken by what I just felt.
— You… I let out softly without realizing it.
He frowns, clearly confused—though not as much as I am.
— What?
Damn, that slipped out without thinking.
I clear my throat discreetly, trying to pull myself together, to gather the scattered pieces of my dignity.
— What do you want…? I finally say, trying to keep my tone neutral, even though my voice trembles slightly.
And I know he noticed.
I pretend to busy myself with something—anything—carefully avoiding his gaze… as if it could erase the moment, as if my body wasn't still reacting to his presence.
He says nothing. His gaze slowly drifts over me, from head to toe, without the slightest hint of embarrassment… as if he were analyzing me, judging me.
Then, without a word, he looks away and heads to the dressing room.
When the dressing room door slams, the air seems to return to the room. I can finally breathe.
But… what just happened?
I can't understand. Did I really just look at him like that?
"No. You were staring—no, practically devouring him with your eyes," my conscience snaps mercilessly.
— Whose side are you on? You're supposed to support me, not… him! Always defending him, I mutter under my breath.
— Not only are you childish… you're also crazy.
The deep, sharp voice echoes behind me.
I turn around abruptly.
He's there, already dressed. A perfectly fitted black suit, slightly open at the collar, revealing a light shirt. His hair is perfectly styled. He calmly fastens his watch—a Rolex—as if nothing in the world could rush him. Everything about him exudes class, charisma, and a breathtaking masculinity. I've never said it before, but… he's handsome. Really handsome.
— If you're done checking me out, you can say so.
My heart skips a beat.
Checking him out?!
I wasn't… doing that!
I was just looking a little—it's not that serious.
And how would he even know? He wasn't even looking at me! And on top of that, he called me crazy.
I abruptly stand up from the vanity chair and walk toward him with determination, stopping right in front of him.
But him… he still doesn't look at me, too busy adjusting his watch with a calm that feels almost provocative, as if my presence carries no weight.
— You just called me crazy, I say, my voice firmer now.
He finally lifts his head and locks his gaze onto mine. His dark eyes catch me, trapping me in a kind of bubble I can't explain, sending an electric jolt through my entire body. I've never felt anything like this before. I don't even know how to describe it… and I hate it. I hate the effect he has on me.
— No, I didn't call you crazy, he says calmly. I stated a fact. Because, you see… normal people usually avoid talking to themselves.
He doesn't let me respond before adding, with a faint, almost mocking smile:
— And normal people also avoid spying on others while they're getting dressed.
My heart starts racing again, and a wave of embarrassment washes over me—but I don't show it.
I cross my arms, trying to keep my composure.
— Spying? You think way too highly of yourself.
— Oh really? Yet you knew exactly where to look.
— Let's just say you weren't very discreet.
He smirks, then slowly steps closer, never taking his eyes off me. The distance between us shrinks dangerously, as if he's trying to invade my space, to test my limits.
His voice is calm, almost nonchalant, but every word sounds like a provocation.
— I'm in my own home. I do what I want. I go where I want… he adds with a slight, arrogant smile.
My heart quickens despite myself.
He tilts his head slightly, his gaze sliding over me without any restraint.
— I could even stay naked if I felt like it… because this is my room. So no… I'm not going to pretend to be discreet just to make you comfortable.
He says it while looking straight into my eyes, as if trying to read me, to guess the effect his words have on me.
This man is completely shameless… and completely insane.
You don't say things like that. Not so easily. Not with that much confidence.
And yet… he's perfectly at ease.
Me, on the other hand…
Inside, it's chaos. A strange heat settles in me—unsettling, confusing. But there's no way I'm showing him that. No way he'll know he's affecting me.
No. It won't go like that.
So, as bold as I am, I take a step toward him, closing the small distance between us even more. His scent brushes against me—subtle and intoxicating.
Hmm… he smells good.
I shake my head internally.
Focus, Esther.
I lift my eyes to meet his. For a split second, I see a flicker of surprise cross his gaze… before it disappears, replaced by that familiar darkness that unsettles me so much. I hold his gaze, without stepping back.
— Then you're mistaken, dear Mr. Arrison. This room, as you so clearly said, is yours… just as much as it is mine.
And that means one very simple thing: you're no longer the only one who decides what happens here. So if you think you can impress me with your rules… you're wasting your time.
I look him straight in the eyes—no way I'm backing down again.
I expect him to get angry, to raise his voice or something… but no.
As surprising as it is, he laughs.
A real laugh. The kind of smile that, for him, probably means nothing… but for me, completely short-circuits my brain.
Oh my God… he should laugh more often.
I feel my chest tighten slightly, as if something inside me is losing control without my permission.
His dimples appear. Subtle. Irritatingly attractive. And now this is bad… I just want to touch him.
— Fascinating… It's the first time a woman has stood up to me like this.
A brief silence settles.
Then he steps even closer. His scent hits me before he even speaks. And when he tilts his head toward my ear, his warm breath brushes against my skin, sending an uncontrollable shiver through me.
His voice becomes lower, slower.
— And I won't lie… I like it. Seeing you challenge me as if you don't realize who you're dealing with… I like it. Watching you fight me… fight what I do to you… I like that even more.
Esther… I watch you, I analyze you, and I'm starting to understand how you work. And honestly… seeing you fight me, fight what I stir in you… it's almost… exciting. Do you know why? No you don't. Let me tell you. Because I like complicated things. Easy things bore me. I like what resists. What tells me no. And you, Esther… you already belong to me, but you resist me. So naturally, you become a problem and I have a flaw. I always solve my problems. You think you're out of reach… but you're already in my mind. Too far for me to turn back now. Winning you over? It's not even an option anymore. It's just a matter of time.
A heavy silence settles between us.
He said all that so easily… so simply… as if it were normal.
Could he be a psychopath? No… if that were the case, I would've known.
And yet his words keep echoing in my head… like a burning mark I can't erase.
Something wavers inside me.
One part of me wants to step back… almost run.
The other refuses completely to give in.
So I stay still, even if everything inside me is in chaos.
He straightens slightly. His gaze never leaves mine that dark, intense gaze.
As if he already has a hold on me without even touching me. The distance between us doesn't even matter anymore.
His voice is lower now. Slower.
— What draws me to you… is the way you look at me, Esther… you never stop challenging me. And yet… I like it. I like challenges. From the first day you challenged me… in that office… in those hallways… in Palestine… even in that hotel room… you never stopped. And even now… you're still doing it. And me… I like that. I love it, even.
His eyes stay locked on mine, as if he's waiting for me to break.
— Challenges… I want them. And even more… when I already know I'm going to win.
He straightens fully, then steps slightly away from me.
And yet… even at a distance, I still feel him.
As if he left something behind in the air around me.
What he just said… or rather the way he said it… has created a chaos in my mind that I can't explain.
I lift my chin slightly, regaining my composure.
As if nothing touched me.
As if his breath, his voice, his closeness had no effect on me.
But inside… it's the complete opposite.
My heart is racing. Too fast. Too hard.
I let out a small, almost mocking laugh.
— You talk a lot for someone who already thinks he's won.
I take a step back just enough to reclaim my space. Just enough to breathe a little better.
Well… almost.
Because even from afar, I still feel him. And it irritates me.
I lock my gaze onto his, without flinching.
— You have a very arrogant way of thinking everything you want already belongs to you. Maybe you're used to people giving in to you… but I don't work like that. And if it's a challenge you want… then fine. You've got one.
But believe me… I don't lose. Ever.
He looks at me.
Without a word.
Then he slowly slips his hands into his pockets, as if all of this amuses him more than anything.
His voice is calm. Almost cold.
— We'll see.
— We'll see.
Without another word, he turns on his heel and walks into the dressing room. I stay there, trying to gather my thoughts. I can't believe he just spoke to me like that. Was that really Tony… or his twin?
I see him coming back toward me, and this time… he's put his cold mask back on.
— If you're done, we can go.
Go? What does he mean, go?
— Go? I repeat, confused. Where do you want us to go?
He doesn't even look at me. He calmly adjusts his jacket, as if my question is a waste of time.
— To the moon. We're going to walk on the moon, he says in a dry, sarcastic tone.
Great… he's back to his favorite cold attitude.
I let out a breath, torn between annoyance and confusion.
— Why are you so unpleasant?
He slightly turns his head toward me, his gaze locking onto mine with a cold intensity.
— Because I have no reason to be pleasant.
No reason? Just five minutes ago, he was speaking to me so calmly, with a hint of softness I didn't even know he had… and now he's acting like a completely different person. Why is he so mysterious?
— I'm not done getting ready… and besides, where are you taking me?
He doesn't answer. He grabs his phone from the bed and walks out, leaving me standing there like a statue.
Unbelievable… this man is so disrespectful.
I sigh, annoyed, walk over to the vanity to grab my phone, and decide to follow him because, honestly… I don't know anyone here. And despite everything, following him is still the only reasonable option.
I step out of the room and see him already at the end of the hallway, walking in long strides without even turning around.
Seriously…?
He tells me to follow him… and then leaves me behind?
I quicken my pace.
— You could at least wait for me! And where are we going?
No answer.
Not even a glance.
He keeps walking as if my voice doesn't even reach him.
A burning frustration rises inside me.
— Hey!
Still nothing.
What is wrong with him?
I clench my teeth and end up almost running to catch up with him.
He suddenly stops just as I reach him. I don't have time to slow down and crash into his back—hard, solid.
— Ouch, but—
I step back slightly, surprised, one hand briefly pressed against his back before I realize… and quickly pull it away.
Is he insane or what?
— You could at least warn me when you stop, honestly you—
— We're here, he cuts me off.
I roll my eyes, still annoyed.
— Where? The moon? I shoot back sarcastically, just to irritate him.
He slowly turns to face me.
His gaze moves over me from head to toe… again.
But this time, I don't look away.
On the contrary.
I hold his gaze, a faint amused smile at the corner of my lips.
— If we were on the moon, you'd talk less.
— Are you implying I talk too much? I say in an exaggerated tone. If I talk too much, why did you even tell me to come, huh? You could've left me in the room. At least I wouldn't have to deal with you and that cold mask you love wearing so much—
— Can you be quiet, he hisses through his teeth.
I go silent because he's starting to get irritated.
— That's better.
— Psychopath, I mutter under my breath.
— Yeah, I'll take that.
He turns toward the door in front of him.
— This is my grandmother's room, he says, looking at the door. She wants to see you.
Without giving me time to respond, he steps forward, places his hand on the handle, opens the door, and walks in without waiting for me.
What a lack of manners…
I roll my eyes before entering as well.
I stop just behind him.
The room looks like his… and yet, everything is different.
Softer. More alive.
The decor is warm, almost comforting.
Paintings hang on the walls… family photos, some old, others more recent. I can see a younger man wearing an NBA basketball uniform, smiling. Then other pictures… a couple, an elderly woman, moments frozen in time.
A life. A real one.
My gaze slowly wanders across the room, absorbed by all these details.
This room is truly different from ours.
— Grandma, are you here? I brought the person you wanted to see.
Suddenly, yesterday's scene comes rushing back to me.
What if she doesn't like me either…?
What if she rejects me… like my mother-in-law did?
My heart tightens.
What if she asks me to leave… her too…?
I swallow hard.
The silence in the room feels heavy, almost suffocating.
No one answers.
No one comes.
Why isn't she saying anything…?
My gaze drifts, my thoughts tangle.
I don't know what to do anymore.
Panic rises. Slowly… then all at once.
Without really thinking… almost instinctively…
I move closer to him.
And… I hide slightly behind my husband's back.
I don't even know why.
As if… despite everything…
it's the only place where I can feel, even just a little… safe.
And he says nothing.
It's like he understands.
Like he doesn't want to startle me.
— What are you doing hiding behind him, young lady?
Her voice is soft. Warm.
A voice that contrasts so much with everything else.
Even I… don't know what I'm doing here, behind his back.
It's ridiculous.
But deep down… I think I'm just trying to avoid everything starting again.
To avoid reliving what I felt last night when I arrived here.
That look.
That discomfort.
That silent rejection.
My heart tightens at the thought.
And yet… this woman's voice is different.
It's not harsh.
It doesn't push me away.
On the contrary… it welcomes me. Gently. As if she wants to soothe me.
I lower my eyes slightly, hesitant.
— I… I'm sorry… I whisper, my voice almost trembling.
— Don't worry, my child… come closer. I just want to see you.
Her voice is so soft… so reassuring… that it soothes, even just a little, the turmoil inside me.
From the sound of her words, I can feel that she is kind.
That she means me no harm.
And that… almost makes me want to cry.
I take a small step forward, hesitant, slowly leaving the "protection" behind him.
I walk toward her, a knot in my stomach.
An elderly woman stands before me.
I can see the marks of fatigue on her face, her white hair neatly styled, a few wrinkles that tell the weight of the years…
But despite everything, it's easy to tell that she must have been very beautiful in her youth.
She has the same eyes as my father-in-law… and Tony.
Deep eyes. Intense.
— You are beautiful, my child. My grandson chose well… you look like a princess.
I can't hold back my smile.
Those words… so simple… but so sincere… touch something inside me. Something fragile.
She gently takes my hand, her warm fingers closing around mine, then invites me to sit beside her on the bed, never stopping smiling at me.
— Are you okay?
I nod, a little embarrassed, but touched by so much kindness.
— Yes… I'm okay. And you, how are you?
She shakes her head slightly, amused.
— I'm doing well too. And you can use "tu" with me, you know… no need to be so formal with me.
Her voice is tender. Soothing.
— I'm your husband's grandmother, so consider me yours as well. You don't have to feel uncomfortable here.
I simply smile, unable to find the right words.
As if… for once… silence is enough.
Behind us, Tony is already turning away, ready to leave.
— Where are you going? she asks.
He barely stops.
— I'm leaving. I brought you your daughter-in-law, now let me go. I have work.
— I don't care about your work. You're staying here, and that's my final word. Now sit down… and quickly.
She points at a chair, leaving him no choice.
I hold back a laugh.
It's the first time I've seen Tony being put in his place like that.
And honestly… the scene is almost satisfying.
He sighs, clearly annoyed… then finally sits down, almost obediently.
Like a child caught doing something wrong… it's incredibly funny.
— Well. Tell me, she continues, turning to me. I was told your mother-in-law caused a scene when she saw you.
My smile immediately fades.
I was afraid of this question. I've just arrived… and I have no desire to create tension. Not at all.
I'm about to answer when Tony cuts me off:
— Grandma, we've already talked about it. I told you it wasn't a big deal.
— I'm not talking to you, she says calmly. I want to hear what Esther has to say.
I frown slightly.
They've already talked about it? So… he already told her something.
But what? And me… what should I do? Tell the truth? Say everything?
Or just let it go and pretend nothing happened…?
My hesitation must show, because she gently takes my hand in hers.
Her fingers are warm, soothing.
She lightly strokes it… and that simple gesture tightens my chest.
It reminds me so much… of my mother.
— Listen, she says softly, you don't have to hesitate like that. You're part of this family now. You deserve to be treated with respect. No one… and I mean no one… has the right to disrespect you. Not even me. Not even your husband. I want to understand. Why did she treat you like that? What made her act that way?
Her voice doesn't judge.
She's just looking for the truth.
And that… touches me deeply.
I close my eyes for a moment, as if gathering my courage… then I open them again.
— Ac—
Tony's phone suddenly rings.
I almost jump.
— Grandma, I have to take this. It's urgent.
Without waiting, he stands up and leaves the room.
Leaving me alone with her.
Silence settles.
I take a deep breath… then slowly exhale.
Just to find the strength to speak.
— Actually… Grandma… during my stay in Palestine… when I found out I had to marry your grandson… I was at my limit. Yes… at my limit. Because my parents were going to marry me off to a man I didn't even know.
It was… unacceptable to me. I felt like my life was being taken away from me, like everything was being decided for me. I was lost… completely lost. I was almost depressed… but I held on. I told myself that… if they were doing this, it was probably for my own good. So I tried to see it as a test… a test in life that I had to overcome.
I breathe slowly.
I know all of this isn't really related to her question… but I needed it.
I needed to let it out.
Her hand gently squeezes mine, silently encouraging me to continue.
— After I accepted the marriage, my mother organized a dinner at the chalet… and she asked me to go buy the wedding rings.
I was reluctant… but she eventually convinced me, so I agreed. I was with Mina, our housekeeper. We were in a jewelry store… everything was going well… until we heard shouting. At first, I didn't pay attention. But the shouting got louder and louder… so I moved closer. There were already people there. A crowd.
I stepped closer, and in the middle of the crowd… there was—
A pause.
— My mother-in-law.
An employee had accidentally spilled tea on her dress. She kept apologizing… over and over again…
But she… she didn't want to hear anything. She was shouting. Insulting her… humiliating her. She was even about to slap her.
But that… that was too much. I couldn't just stand there and do nothing.
You see… I hate injustice. My father always taught me to protect the weak…
So I stopped her. I told her that what she was doing wasn't right… that she shouldn't act like that. My intention wasn't to humiliate her… just to make her understand that she had no right to treat someone like that. Not in front of everyone… not like that.
Silence falls again.
Heavy.
I lower my head, my heart tight.
Now that I've said everything… what is she going to think of me…?
After a few seconds, she speaks again, calmly:
— You know, my daughter… your mother-in-law is a woman of principles. And pride.
I lift my eyes slightly.
— She hates being wrong… and even more, being humiliated. She likes to be in control, to get what she wants…
She pauses.
— But despite all that… she has a heart. She loves her children more than anything and would do anything for their well-being.
What you told me… that's only one side of her. Yes, she and I have our differences… but I know her, and believe me… it will pass. She's not someone who holds grudges. She's just angry. Nothing serious.
A weight lifts from my chest.
I feel… relieved.
Relieved to have been listened to.
Relieved to be understood.
Relieved to know that maybe everything isn't lost.
Maybe… there's still hope.
But a question crosses my mind.
She said they don't really get along…
Is it because of me…?
Or has it been like this for much longer…?
I want to ask.
But I stay silent.
I don't want to seem indiscreet.
— If you're not reassured… she continues, I'll go see her right now and make her apologize to you.
My heart jumps.
— No!
The words come out almost too quickly.
I shake my head slightly, panicked.
— I… I don't want to create even more problems…
— No. You're not creating any problem, I assure you. I'm going to go talk to her and put her in her place.
I gently shake my head.
— No, Grandma… it's okay. It's already forgotten.
I take a small breath, searching for the right words.
— Like you said yourself… she's a woman with a lot of principles and pride. So seeing the girl who spoke to her that way… here, in her own house… it must have been a shock for her.
Especially when she found out that I'm her daughter-in-law.
She looks at me for a long moment.
With that smile… soft, almost proud.
As if she didn't expect to hear that.
— Your wisdom and intelligence surprise me… she says softly. Tony is truly lucky to have you.
My heart skips a beat.
A small shock, subtle… but very real.
And despite myself… my thoughts drift to him.
To his words.
To his gaze.
To everything he said earlier…
I don't even know what to think about it.
All I know is that what I'm feeling… I've never felt it before.
And it unsettles me.
I lift my eyes slightly.
But… where did he go?
He said he had to answer a call… but it's been a good twenty minutes now.
It's strange…
She watches me for another moment, then slowly stands and walks toward her dressing room.
I follow her with my eyes, distracted.
But… where did he go?
He said he had to answer a call… but it's been twenty minutes now and he still hasn't come back.
It's strange.
I frown slightly, a hint of worry mixed with something else… something I'd rather not analyze.
I look away when Grandma comes back, a small box in her hands.
She sits down beside me, in the exact same spot, then opens it with almost precious delicacy.
Inside… jewelry.
All kinds of it. Some pieces shimmer discreetly, others look old, almost heavy with stories.
Each one seems unique… as if every piece carries a different memory.
— These jewels… she murmurs with a faint smile, my husband gave them to me throughout his many travels.
Her voice changes slightly.
Softer. More distant.
— He always brought me something… every time he left. No matter where he went… he always came back with a gift for me.
Her fingers brush over the jewelry with almost moving tenderness.
— It was his way of telling me he was thinking of me… even from far away.
I look at the jewelry… and it's simply magnificent.
Without even realizing it, a memory comes back to me.
My father used to do the same thing… he always brought jewelry back for my mother and me whenever he traveled.
We had so many that sometimes… I didn't even know which one to wear. Some of them, I even gave away.
A faint smile crosses my lips.
— You can take one.
I suddenly lift my head, my eyes widening.
I stare at her.
She's serious.
My gaze shifts back to the box… then to her again.
These are her memories.
Her moments.
Her life.
I can't…
— No… I can't. They're yours, I—
— It's a gift I'm giving you, she cuts in gently. And besides, in our family, tradition says that a gift must be offered to the new daughter-in-law.
She looks at me with a tender smile.
— So you can't refuse.
I stay silent for a few seconds… then finally nod.
Slowly.
— And I think you've already made your choice… she adds with a hint of amusement.
Yes…
Ever since she opened the box, my eyes keep going back to the same piece of jewelry.
A necklace.
Heart-shaped.
The pendant, made of diamond, not too big, not too small… just perfect.
And the chain, thin and gold… simple, yet elegant.
It's… beautiful.
She carefully takes it out of the box and hands it to me.
I look at her, surprised.
She's… really giving it to me?
— Take it. It's an excellent choice.
Her voice softens.
— It's the last gift my husband gave me… before he died.
My chest tightens.
— But today… I'm giving it to you.
I immediately shake my head.
— No… if your husband gave it to you, you should keep it. I… I can't take this. It means too much to you.
I quickly look for an alternative.
— I can take this… this bracelet, it's very pretty.
But she insists.
— No. I want you to take this one. And don't argue.
Her voice is gentle… but firm.
Before I can protest further, she takes the necklace and places it in my hand.
I look at it.
Reluctantly…
But also… deeply touched.
I let it slide through my fingers, observing it more closely.
It's even more beautiful like this.
But now… it carries something more.
A story.
A love.
A precious memory.
And without expecting it…
I feel my heart tighten softly.
— Go try it on. I'm sure it will look wonderful on you.
I nod gently, still a bit hesitant, then stand up and walk toward the mirror.
I carefully place the necklace around my neck.
And… I have to admit it—it's beautiful.
It fits perfectly against my skin, as if it had always been meant for me.
I try to fasten it… but my fingers tremble slightly.
— Grandma… it won't close. Can you help me?
She's about to answer when the door opens.
Tony.
— Where were you? she begins. Anyway, never mind. Go help your wife put on the necklace.
— Grandma, I—
— I don't want to hear anything. Just go.
I hold back a smile.
She really doesn't give him a choice.
After that, she calmly gets up and returns to her dressing room with her jewelry box, leaving us alone.
A silence settles.
Then… I feel him approach.
His steps are confident. Calm. Controlled.
He stops right behind me.
My back is to him… but our eyes meet in the mirror.
His dark eyes lock onto mine.
Intense. Deep. Almost burning.
I can't look away… even if I wanted to.
I stay there… frozen… as if hypnotized.
He's so close.
Far too close.
I can almost feel the warmth of his body against mine… his presence surrounds me, softly suffocating me.
My heart starts racing instantly.
— I…
What's happening to me…?
It's the first time I've felt something this strong… this uncontrollable.
He slowly moves my hair over my shoulder.
His gesture is slow, deliberate. His fingers barely brush my skin… and yet, it's enough to send a shiver down my spine. I briefly close my eyes.
His hands gently take the necklace.
His movements are precise… almost too careful, as if he's savoring every second.
When he fastens it… his fingers brush against the back of my neck.
Another shiver runs through me instantly.
The same as this morning… but even more intense.
I'm sure he did it on purpose.
Because when I open my eyes… I catch his reflection.
That slight, satisfied, almost arrogant smile at the corner of his lips.
Then… he leans in slightly.
His warm breath brushes against my skin, just behind my ear.
And his voice… low… deep… goes right through me:
— You look very beautiful with this necklace.
My heart almost stops.
A strange warmth rises inside me, slow… overwhelming…
as if my whole body reacts to his simple words.
And without even understanding why… a smile forms on my lips.
It's the first time he tells me I'm beautiful.
The first time… he gives me a compliment.
And it affects me far more than I want to admit.
My hand slowly rises to my neck.
I touch the necklace with my fingertips.
It's there, against my skin—delicate, precious, beautiful.
I think… I'll never take it off.
A soft smile appears on my lips, almost despite myself.
I lift my eyes.
And our gazes meet again.
Locked onto each other.
As if nothing else exists around us.
Time seems to stand still…
It's strange.
Intense. Like a silent challenge.
Neither of us wants to look away.
And me… no way I'll be the first to give in.
His gaze darkens slightly.
Mine doesn't move.
We provoke each other… without a word.
We challenge each other… without moving.
Then we wait.
A FLASH.
I flinch slightly.
We both turn at the same time.
Grandma is there, holding her phone, a mischievous smile on her lips.
— Pretend I'm not here… go on.
I can't help but feel embarrassed.
— It suits you perfectly. It's even more beautiful on you, she says with a fond smile.
I lower my eyes, a little shy.
— Thank you…
That's all I manage to say.
Tony then speaks, his voice deep and perfectly calm:
— Grandma, I have to go to an important meeting.
She immediately gives him a sharp look.
— You shouldn't be telling me that, but your wife! And you should stay here and take care of her. Why are you going to work when we're on vacation?
She really doesn't let him go.
He walks toward her… passing close to me.
His shoulder brushes against mine—a simple contact.
But enough to stir something strange inside me.
A feeling I don't like.
Not at all… or maybe…
He then places his hands on his grandmother's shoulders and kisses her forehead.
You can immediately see how much he cares about her.
It's… touching. Almost heartwarming.
— I'm counting on you to take care of my wife, he says softly. She's in good hands… I trust you.
Then he adds, with a slight smile:
— And about work… let me tell you, there are no vacations for me. And besides, if I don't work, how do you expect me to provide for you?
He lightly kisses her cheek.
Grandma sighs, amused but firm:
— I don't care about your money. My husband worked hard all his life to give me everything I want. Now it's your turn to work hard for your wife… and your future children.
I flinch slightly.
His… our future children?
My eyes widen.
I had never thought about that.
And honestly… I wasn't thinking about it at all.
Me… pregnant with him?
It's… too far. Too strange.
I stay silent, unsettled.
— You don't even need to say it, he replies calmly. My wife and my children will lack nothing. I promise you.
My heart skips a beat for no reason… what is happening to me?
Just then, there's a knock on the door. Grandma allows them in. A woman enters, dressed in a work uniform, pushing a cart full of food.
Perfect. I was actually starving.
— Good morning, she says with a smile. I've brought breakfast.
— That's fine, leave it here, Grandma replies.
The woman sets the cart down and leaves.
Tony checks his watch.
— Eat before you go. You haven't eaten since yesterday.
— No… I'm late. I'll grab something on the way. Have a great day.
But he doesn't even let her respond. He steps forward and places a quick kiss on her forehead.
Then he leaves.
Without another word.
Without a glance at me.
I stay frozen for a moment.
He didn't even look at me.
As if I didn't exist.
As if… everything that just happened had never happened.
He just left.
Without a look. Without a word.
After stirring up all this chaos inside me… all these feelings I don't even understand.
I slowly lower my eyes, my chest tight.
What is he playing at…?
Why does he act like this?
One moment, he's cold. Distant. Almost hurtful.
And the next… he's gentle. Confusing. Attentive.
And then he disappears as if nothing mattered…
as if… I didn't matter.
A wave of frustration rises inside me.
— What is he trying to do…? I murmur to myself.
I can't understand him.
And that's what annoys me the most, because deep down…
I hate the effect he has on me.
No way I'm falling into his trap.
I walk toward the cart, and with Grandma, we settle into her small living room.
I pour us drinks, my movements still a bit hesitant at first… then little by little, something inside me loosens.
We start eating, talking about everything and nothing—simple things. Light things.
And without even realizing it… I feel good.
At ease.
As if, for the first time since I arrived, I can breathe normally.
She tells me about her husband—the man I saw in the photo wearing a basketball outfit.
Her eyes light up as she talks about him.
She explains that basketball, for him, wasn't just a sport… it was a true passion. Something that was part of him.
Then, with a small smile full of memories, she adds that he passed that passion on to his son… my father-in-law.
And he, in turn… passed it on to his son. My husband.
I stay silent for a moment.
It's… strange.
Because in my family too… it's kind of the same.
My father loves basketball, and I do too.
A soft smile appears on my lips as I remember those moments…
when we used to play together against my mother, just to tease her, just to make her complain.
And it worked every time.
With every loss, she would turn bright red with anger…
and we would burst out laughing.
It was so simple.
So alive.
So… us.
My smile softens, but my heart tightens slightly.
I miss those moments.
I lower my eyes a little.
It's funny… how two completely different worlds can come together…
through something as simple as a ball.
Anyway…
Then Samira arrives, her energy instantly filling the room.
We start talking, and very quickly I realize she is truly kind… gentle… and above all sincere with me.
She talks to me about her husband, her children… and I find myself smiling despite everything.
They are arriving tomorrow and, honestly… I'm already looking forward to meeting them.
I'm even surprised to learn she has children.
She is so beautiful, so radiant… with such a natural presence… that it's hard for me to imagine her as a mother.
It's… impressive.
Time passes quickly. After a few hours of chatting with Grandma, Samira suggests showing me around the house.
I gladly accept.
We step into the hallway… and there, we run into my father-in-law.
He was probably coming to see his mother.
As soon as Samira sees him, she throws herself into his arms without hesitation.
I smile.
That scene… touches me more than I expected.
It reminds me of my relationship with my father.
My heart tightens softly.
I miss him… so much.
My dear dad.
I lower my eyes slightly, trying to swallow that wave of emotion.
Then he walks toward me and, without warning, opens his arms to me just like he did with Samira.
I freeze for a moment… surprised.
Then I let myself go. And that simple gesture… warms my heart in a way I can't explain.
— Are you okay, my daughter? he asks gently.
His voice is full of kindness.
I nod.
— Yes… I'm fine. And you?
— Yes, I'm fine too. Are you happy here?
— Yes… I am.
He looks at me for a moment, as if trying to make sure I'm telling the truth.
Then he adds sincerely:
— I'm sorry about what happened yesterday… with my wife. She was angry.
I gently shake my head.
— Don't worry… it's nothing.
Even though, deep down… it affected me more than I want to admit.
He nods, then goes into Grandma's room.
And we… continue walking down the hallway.
The house is… huge. Very huge.
Our footsteps echo slightly on the shiny floor. Everything is spotless.
— We have several bedrooms, Samira says.
She shows me a few.
Guest rooms large, perfect… but impersonal.
Then the family members' rooms.
Every room is beautiful. Luxurious. Well-kept.
But none of them really tells a story.
None of them feels lived in… loved.
I slow down a bit, observing everything around me.
— It's… beautiful, I murmur.
— This is the first living room, she says, opening a large door.
I stop at the entrance.
The living room is stunning light leather sofas, a glass coffee table, large windows letting in the light… every detail looks like it came out of a magazine.
It's beautiful.
But…
I feel nothing.
No warmth.
No life.
As if no one really spends time here.
— We hardly ever use it, she adds with a small smile.
That doesn't surprise me at all.
We continue.
— And here is the second living room. The one we use a bit more.
A bit more… but it's still the same.
Everything is perfectly arranged, aligned, silent.
As if even the walls are holding their breath.
I gently run my hand over the back of a chair.
It's cold.
— The dining room is over there.
I can feel this goes far beyond me.
Much further.
I want to speak, I want to say something, I want to step in… but I choose to stay silent. For the first time, I decide to keep quiet in this kind of situation.
Then Laurène turns her attention back to me. Her gaze pierces right through me.
— And you.
A cold smile appears on her lips, the same one Tony has. It's incredible how much they look alike.
— Haven't you realized yet that you're not welcome here?
— That's enough, Laurène ! Stop this right now.
Laurène looks at her, irritated.
— Why? Because "madam" decided to protect her?
— Because you're being unfair, and it's becoming unbearable.
Laurène rolls her eyes, as if what she's hearing is pointless.
— You've always liked picking up lost causes.
She grabs her bags, walks past us.
Then she stops for a second, right beside me.
Without even looking at me directly, she says:
— Be careful… appearances can be deceiving.
And she walks away without giving us another glance.
Samira closes her eyes for a moment, exhausted.
— All of this is Mom's fault… she spoiled her too much. If she keeps going, I'll put her back in her place.
Then she looks at me.
— I'm sorry…
Her voice is softer now.
— It's okay, I reply simply.
We resumed the tour, even though a heavy tension still lingered between us. As the hours went by, it gradually faded, giving way to lighter moments. Little by little, the atmosphere softened, and we ended up spending an unexpectedly pleasant day.
When I returned to my room, exhausted but calm, I didn't need to fight sleep for long.