As soon as Naomi finished eating, she climbed the stairs of the mansion. She wasn’t sure what to make of this place—it looked like an ancestral ho, though it was decorated with a modern touch that felt oddly familiar to her. The blend of old and new seed out of place, yet strangely comforting. This was the house of her husband, a man she barely knew, yet who had beco so integral to her life in such a short ti.
She couldn’t help but wonder about its history. How many generations had walked through these halls? The towering portraits on the walls seed to judge her every move, the eyes of long-dead ancestors peering down as if silently assessing whether she belonged.
"This is what happens when you overthink," Naomi chided herself under her breath. She shook her head and continued on, feeling the weight of the house’s age and the mystery that surrounded it pressing on her shoulders. Her footsteps echoed in the vast corridor as she approached her room.
She opened the door slowly, her movents hesitant, as if unsure of what she might find inside. The room was quiet, its calm atmosphere contrasting sharply with the turbulent thoughts running through her mind. Naomi paused, standing in the middle of the room, staring at the bed, the walls, the ornate furnishings. Everything about it felt both foreign and familiar, as if the room had been designed for soone else, soone who was ant to live here long before she ever arrived.
Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and thoughts. She needed rest—she needed to stop overthinking for just a mont. But the desire to clear her head was easier said than done. As she walked toward the bed, she sighed, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her uncertainty.
Lying down might help, she thought. Maybe it would calm her mind. She slipped beneath the sheets and closed her eyes, trying to relax. But the thoughts ca rushing back, relentless and unforgiving. The questions, the fears, the uncertainties—how could she escape them?
She opened her eyes again, staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t even rember how long she had been lying there. Minutes? Hours? Ti felt like it had stopped. Her gaze drifted toward the window, but her thoughts wandered elsewhere. Sothing Rhea had said kept replaying in her mind: No one is allowed to enter Zylan’s room.
Naomi frowned at the mory. At the ti, her curiosity had been piqued, but she’d brushed it off in the chaos of her escape. Now, however, with the quiet of the room surrounding her, the urge to know more clawed at her. She couldn’t help it—she needed to know why no one was allowed in. What was so special about Zylan’s room? Why did it seem so off-limits, even though he had been so open with her in other ways?
She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. Curiosity kills the cat, she reminded herself, trying to suppress the nagging feeling that had settled in her chest. But then, with a small, rueful smile, she added, This poor cat is just curious.
Naomi tossed and turned, her mind racing, unable to find the peace she desperately sought. Frustration crept in, and she finally reached for her phone. Her fingers hesitated for a mont, but then she unlocked the screen, scrolling through the ssages Rose had sent her. Naomi felt a pang of guilt as she read through each one, imagining how worried her friend must have been when she had disappeared so suddenly.
I need to call her, Naomi thought, feeling the weight of her silence pressing on her. She had no idea how to explain where she had been, or why she hadn’t reached out sooner. But she couldn’t leave Rose hanging any longer.
She pressed the call button and brought the phone to her ear, waiting as the rings echoed in the silence of the room.
Ring one. Ring two.
"Oh my! Naomi, is that you, baby? I missed you!" Rose’s voice burst through the line, the surprise and relief in her tone making Naomi smile despite herself.
"I missed you too, Rosy," Naomi replied, her voice warm. She could already picture the look of joy and disbelief on her friend’s face. It had been so long since they had last spoken, and Naomi hated that she had left Rose in the dark.
"So, where were you? You weren’t even picking up your phone! Huh?" Rose’s voice had a half-scolding edge to it, and Naomi’s cheeks flushed with guilt.
"I... I was on a cruise ship. For a... honeymoon," Naomi stamred, her voice faltering as she tried to sound convincing.
There was a sharp gasp on the other end of the line.
"My goodness! You were on a fu—" Rose caught herself mid-word. "You were on a cruise ship?!"
Her surprise was evident, and Naomi couldn’t help but laugh nervously. She felt her cheeks grow even warr.
"Yeah, we both were. It was his..." Naomi trailed off, unsure of what to say next. She didn’t want to tell Rose everything. So things were too complicated to explain.
"Goodness, Naomi, he has a cruise ship?!" Rose exclaid, her shock palpable.
"Yeah..." Naomi replied, her voice dropping to a whisper as a blush crept onto her face.
There was a brief pause on the line before Rose’s tone shifted, this ti laced with curiosity. "Naomi, why are you so quiet? Did you two... do sothing during the honeymoon trip?"
Naomi froze. Her heart skipped a beat, and her mind went blank. She couldn’t think of a response. Her silence spoke volus.
"Don’t tell ..." Rose began again, her tone dripping with shock that Naomi could almost feel through the phone.
Naomi quickly cut her off, desperate to stop her train of thought. "No, we didn’t do anything," she said in a hushed voice.
"That’s a lie!" Rose teased, her voice playful but with a sharp edge. "When you talk in that low tone or hesitate, it’s always because you’re lying, Naomi."
Naomi’s face burned with embarrassnt, and she stumbled over her response. "I’m not! Just—just stop it, okay?"
"Fine then," Rose replied, her voice laced with mischief. After a brief pause, sothing seed to click in her mind. "How about the escape? Do you still want to divorce him?"
The room fell silent at Rose’s words. Naomi’s heart sank, her chest tightening. She hadn’t thought about it in days—she had been so focused on surviving, on getting through each day, that she hadn’t given any thought to her escape plan. Now, hearing Rose’s words brought it all back.
"I don’t..." Naomi hesitated, her voice barely audible. "I don’t know," she finally whispered.
"Aha! See? You are starting to develop feelings for that man!" Rose exclaid, her voice a mix of surprise and triumph, as if her suspicions had finally been confird.
Naomi flinched, feeling a mixture of embarrassnt and confusion swirl inside her. She needed to change the topic. She couldn’t talk about this right now. "How about you? I saw all your ssages. Umm... you were here, but they didn’t let you in."
The ntion of it struck a nerve. Rose fell silent for a while.
"You don’t have to worry about that," Rose said softly, her voice quieter now, almost resigned.
"No, I’ll tell them to always let you in," Naomi insisted, her voice firm despite the uncertainty she felt.
"No, please, Naomi. It’s fine," Rose replied, the finality in her tone making Naomi stop in her tracks.
"Okay, then... why don’t you co visit next week?" Naomi suggested, trying to lift the mood. She could sense her friend’s discomfort and wanted to make things better.
The line went quiet for a mont before Rose hesitantly responded, "Umm... okay. I’ll try."
The truth was, Rose didn’t want to face Rylan again—not after what had happened last ti. Naomi could sense it, but she didn’t push her friend further.
"Bye then," Naomi said softly, feeling a deep sense of guilt for not being more honest with her friend.
"Bye," Rose replied, and the line went dead.
Naomi set the phone aside, burying her face into the pillow as she groaned in embarrassnt. How utterly humiliating, she thought. She and Zylan had done things—things she couldn’t even wrap her head around, let alone describe to anyone. Not even Rose. The weight of it was overwhelming.
She rolled onto her side, as if physically trying to chase away the mories that threatened to overwhelm her. But no matter how much she moved, how much she shifted in bed, the thoughts lingered. Her body felt restless, her mind even more so.
Then she heard it—the sound of a door opening. A familiar presence filled the room. Naomi froze.
"What are you doing?"
The deep, familiar voice startled her. Naomi didn’t need to turn to know who it was. She froze, heat rising to her cheeks. Of course. This husband of hers always shows up unannounced. Quickly, she sat up and tried to compose herself, though her blush deepened as her thoughts betrayed her. Why now? Why of all tis, when her mind was... She couldn’t even finish the thought.
Naomi, stop thinking dirty! she scolded herself inwardly.
"Nothing," she replied, her voice a little too quick, a little too sharp.
"I’ll be leaving tonight," Zylan said, his voice calm yet firm, his words hanging heavily in the room.
"But..." Naomi started, then fell silent, unsure of what to say.
"I’ll be back tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about that," he added, his tone steady as he took slow, deliberate steps toward her.
Naomi’s heart pounded in her chest as she tried to think of an excuse to make him stay. "You could leave tomorrow morning... umm, besides, it might be dangerous to go out at night. And what if it takes longer than you expect? You could just stay—for tonight. Then leave tomorrow," she stamred, her voice betraying her nervousness.
Zylan stopped directly in front of her, his towering presence making her feel small yet oddly secure. He didn’t say a word, and the silence stretched between them. Naomi knew she didn’t want him to leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it.
"Do you want to stay with you tonight?" he asked, his voice low and teasing as he gently tilted her chin up to et his gaze.
Naomi’s breath hitched. She stared at him, her thoughts a chaotic ss, before finally whispering, "If I say yes... would you..."
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