1- When did it start?
Every time I saw him kiss a woman, my heart ached. He said it was all work, but I just couldn't help myself.
So what if he was a professional actor who was earning millions per year? I just wanted him to belong to me wholly. He promised to quit acting after marriage, and so I clung to that tiny ray of hope for as long as I could remember.
I dedicated most of my time and feelings to him, supporting him from the side. The love I had for him was so damn strong that it made me accept when he said that we shouldn't announce our marriage to the public.
He said that 'that' was the last project he would take on before quitting. But two years had passed now and all he was saying to me was that the contract was extended for four more years. That he signed it without his knowledge.
Like how did that even happen?
The lies were so beautiful, so my heart never had the chance to peel and see the ugliness beneath them. I believed and trusted everything he said to me. Why? Because he was the only person I knew. He was my ride or die. My past, my present, and my future. And he knew damn well what he meant to me.
Maybe I lost myself in the love he was showering me with whenever he had time for me, or maybe I became trapped by the cage I was building around myself one bar at a time, but, I just didn't realize when this whole charade began.
Was it when Harry stayed out for several months during filming, or was it when I consumed everything he poured into my mind and heart?
Even after realizing that I had a problem, I just couldn't bring myself to step out of the cage I built with my very own hands.
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"...about this?" Harry asked displaying the diamond butterfly necklace. "I think it'd look perfect on you."
I gave him a small smile that hid all the emotional fatigue I was carrying around. He seemed quite excited today, so I didn't want to dampen his mood in any way since we rarely went out together ever since we got married.
There were times I wished we had remained engaged rather than married. At least back then, we spent more time together.
No wedding rings. No PDA. No following each other on social media. No nothing. Just a certificate back at our lavish mansion that had collected dust over the two years.
He said that exposing me to the public as his wife would put me in danger. Especially with his stalkers (some obsessed fans).
So why was I still not satisfied with our marriage? Why was there an empty hole in my heart and soul?
To the world, I was his cousin. This made it easier for us to go out together like this without getting bombarded with endless interviews or the paparazzi following us all over like flies.
I should have been happy. After all, I married one of the top three 'bachelors' in the country. Curly brown hair that he loved keeping it straight despite telling him I loved it curled, a pair of charming hazel eyes that could turn a straight man gay or bi, a well trained body that came with a lovely tan and abs that drove hundreds of thousands of women crazy whenever he was had some semi-nude scenes or in his modelling photos.
I, a mere writer had managed to attract the attention and love of that king of a man. But, I knew him before the money. Before the Fame. And before the hot body.
We grew up together in an ordinary neighborhood since I was five and he was ten. When his mother who had struggled to raise him for fifteen years died, my parents took him in and we became even closer.
My relationship with him was stronger than what I shared with my two brothers, or even my parents.
Before we realized it, our feelings crossed the line. We would sneak into each other's rooms to make out and do whatever we thought was exhilarating at the time. It was a high that pushed us to the limits. A high that cost me my entire family.
It was an accident, but I never stopped blaming myself.
The memories of that night would forever haunt my mind.
****I've got two ideas on this book and the most votes I've received go to this sample. I'll leave it to you guys. Thank you. ☺️****
