Chapter 18: Torn Between Truths
Elira sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers clutched tightly around the letter she had found earlier that morning. Her heart pounded, not just from what the letter said, but from the man sleeping beside her — the man who had once hated her.
Zayn stirred, his breathing deepening as sunlight crawled across the sheets. Elira took a sharp breath and stood, walking slowly toward the window. Her mind was a battlefield — flashes of warmth from last night tangled with the icy truth written in ink.
The letter was from *her*. From *Amira* — Zayn's former lover. Or so Elira thought.
*"You deserve to know the truth. He's not who you think he is."*
Those words haunted her. They were laced with both warning and sadness. She didn't know if Amira meant to save her… or destroy her.
"Elira?" Zayn's voice was groggy, still soaked in sleep. He blinked up at her, sitting up slowly. "You okay?"
She turned around, carefully folding the letter and slipping it into the drawer. "Yeah. Just… couldn't sleep well."
Zayn nodded. "Was it… because of me?"
She didn't respond right away. Instead, she looked at him — really looked. He wasn't the same cold man she had married. Something had shifted. There were nights now when his silence held comfort instead of contempt. Mornings when his gaze softened just for her.
And yet… this letter. This shadow from the past.
"I'm going for a walk," she said softly.
He stood too. "Let me come with you."
"No," she said quickly, then softened. "I need some space."
He hesitated but nodded. "Okay. Just… be safe."
As she stepped outside, the wind kissed her cheeks. Elira walked with no destination, just the need to breathe.
---
*Across town*, Amira leaned against the café table, her fingers tapping anxiously.
"Did she get it?" her friend asked.
Amira nodded. "Yeah. But I don't know if it was the right thing to do."
"You still love him, don't you?"
She didn't answer.
---
Back at the estate, Zayn found the drawer slightly ajar. And the letter — the one he had buried so long ago — was gone.
His pulse quickened.
He had meant to destroy it.
Not because of guilt. But because the past had no place in his future — especially now.
Especially with Elira.
But it was too late.
*Elira returned at dusk*, the sky painted in gold and fire. Her steps slowed as she saw Zayn waiting outside, his expression unreadable.
"I saw the drawer," he said. "You read the letter."
She didn't deny it. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because it's over, Elira. That part of my life… it doesn't matter anymore."
"But it does to me!" she snapped, surprising even herself.
He stepped forward. "Do you think I'd be here if I still loved her? Do you think I'd be looking at you like this if I didn't care?"
She stared at him, her breath caught in her throat.
"I don't know what to believe," she whispered.
He took her hand gently. "Then let me show you."
For the first time in days, she didn't pull away.
And deep inside, she feared that what she was beginning to feel… was love.
Real love.
But was it mutual?
Or was she setting herself up for another heartbreak?
Elira stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom, watching Zayn from afar. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor with his fingers tangled together. The tension between them was still raw, but something in the air had shifted — not forgiveness, not yet — but understanding.
She stepped inside. "Why didn't you just tell me the truth, Zayn?"
He didn't look up. "Because I didn't know how to live with what I did."
She moved closer, slowly. "And now?"
"I still don't know," he admitted. "But I'm tired of pretending."
Her voice softened. "Then stop. Just… be real with me."
Zayn finally looked at her. "Do you think we can ever come back from this?"
Elira didn't answer right away. She sat beside him, leaving space between them. "I don't know. But I think… I want to try."
It was the first moment of honesty they shared in a long time — two broken people trying to build something out of ashes.
The doorbell rang, cutting the moment short.
Zayn frowned and got up.
When he opened the door, everything froze.
Amira.
Her eyes landed on Elira. Calm. Calculated. Almost… smug.
"I'm sorry for intruding," she said sweetly. "But I think your wife deserves to know the full story. Don't you, Zayn?"
Zayn's face turned pale. "You don't need to do this."
But Amira stepped inside, eyes locked on Elira.
"He paid me to leave him," she said, voice like a blade. "To disappear. That's the truth."