breaking point

Chapter 1: The Breaking Point

The ceramic plate slipped through my wet hands before I could catch it. The sound of it shattering against the marble floor echoed through the entire house like a gunshot.

My heart stopped.

I didn't even have time to look down at the pieces before the slap came. Hard. Fast. The force of it snapped my head to the side, and I tasted blood on my lip.

"You good-for-nothing woman!" Catherine's voice was a shriek that made my ears ring. "Do you know how much that cost? Twenty thousand dollars! Twenty thousand! But what would you know about money? You can't do anything right! All you do is sit at home like a lazy housewife, breaking things that don't belong to you!"

My cheek burned. My eyes stung, but I kept them down, staring at the shattered pieces of the plate. Each fragment felt like a piece of myself.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean—"

"Sorry?" Veriana, my sister-in-law, clicked her heels across the floor until she was right in front of me. I could see her expensive shoes, the ones that probably cost more than everything I owned. "Sorry doesn't fix anything, Amira. God, I don't know how you trapped my brother. You're so useless. So broke. So worthless. Living off our money like a parasite."

I wanted to say something. Anything. To remind her that I cleaned this entire house every day. That I cooked every meal. That I did everything they asked without complaint. But the words stuck in my throat.

The sound of footsteps made me look up.

Keal. My husband.

He walked into the dining room, his expensive suit perfectly pressed, his hair styled the way he always wore it. His eyes swept over the scene—his mother standing over me, his sister with her arms crossed, me on my knees surrounded by broken china.

He saw me crying.

I waited for him to say something. To ask if I was okay. To tell his mother to stop.

But his face stayed completely blank.

"Where's breakfast?" he said, his tone flat. "I'm hungry."

Something inside me cracked worse than the plate.

Catherine jabbed her finger toward the mess. "Clean this up right now and serve breakfast. Move!"

I nodded, getting to my feet on shaking legs. My hands trembled as I picked up the larger pieces of the plate, trying not to cut myself. No one helped me. No one even looked at me anymore.

I swept up the rest, threw it away, washed my hands, and went to the kitchen. The food was already prepared—I'd been up since five in the morning making everything perfect. I loaded everything onto the serving trays and carried them to the dining room.

They were all seated now. Catherine at the head of the table. Veriana on her phone, already posting something on social media. Keal's younger brother, Desmond, slouched in his chair with that look on his face that always made my skin crawl.

I set the first dish down in front of Keal.

The door burst open.

A woman walked in.

No. She didn't walk. She glided. Her clothes looked like they cost more than a car. Everything about her screamed money—the jewelry, the handbag, the perfect makeup, the designer shoes. She was beautiful in a way that made me feel invisible.

But that wasn't what made me freeze.

It was the way Keal looked at her.

His fork clattered against his plate. He stood up so fast his chair scraped against the floor. The spoon in my hand stopped halfway to the next dish, suspended in the air.

His eyes locked with hers.

The whole room went silent.

"Keal!" The woman's voice was high and sweet, like bells. She ran toward him, her arms spread wide.

He caught her.

She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. He held her like she weighed nothing, his hands gripping her waist, his face buried in her hair.

I stood there. Still holding the spoon. Still staring.

"Oh my God, I missed you so much!" She kissed his cheek, his jaw, his temple. "Three years was way too long! I can't believe I'm finally back!"

"I missed you too, Emma." His voice was soft. Warm. Tender.

I had never heard him use that voice with me.

She giggled and kissed him again, this time on the lips. Right in front of everyone. Right in front of me.

My hand started shaking. The spoon rattled against the serving dish.

"Emma, darling!" Catherine was on her feet, her face completely transformed. She was smiling. Actually smiling. "You're back! After three whole years! Come, come, sit down! Have you eaten? Amira, get another plate!"

Veriana jumped up too, practically squealing. "Emma! Oh my God, you look amazing! Three years in Europe and you come back looking like this? Is that the new Chanel collection? I love it!"

Emma finally unwrapped herself from Keal but kept one arm hooked through his. "Thank you! I just got back from Paris yesterday. Three years felt like forever, but I brought gifts for everyone!"

"You're too sweet," Catherine gushed, pulling Emma into a hug. "We missed you so much. Not like some people who contribute nothing to this family."

She looked directly at me when she said it.

Emma followed her gaze and seemed to notice me for the first time. Her smile didn't falter. "Oh, hello."

"Get Emma a plate," Catherine snapped at me. "And make it quick. Our Emma deserves the best after being away for so long."

I turned to go back to the kitchen, my legs moving on autopilot.

"And get me some orange juice, Amira," Keal said, still holding Emma close. "Fresh squeezed."

Not once did he look at me.

I walked to the kitchen. I took out a plate. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped it too. I set it on a tray with silverware and a glass of orange juice I'd made fresh this morning.

When I came back, Emma was sitting in the chair next to Keal, practically in his lap. She was feeding him from her fork, and he was laughing at something she said.

Laughing.

I had never seen him laugh like that.

I set the plate down in front of Emma, careful not to make eye contact with anyone.

"Thank you," Emma said sweetly. She looked up at Keal, running her fingers through his hair. "Three years, and you still look exactly the same. I was so worried you'd forget about me."

"Never," Keal said, catching her hand and kissing it.

My chest felt tight.

"Amira is Keal's wife," Veriana said, but the way she said it made it sound like a joke. "Though honestly, she might as well be the help. It's all she's good for."

Catherine laughed. Emma's eyes widened.

My face burned.

"Wife?" Emma looked between me and Keal, her perfectly manicured hand flying to her mouth. "Oh! I didn't realize you got married while I was away, Keal."

"It's complicated," Keal said, his hand running down Emma's arm.

Complicated.

Our marriage was complicated.

Emma's face fell for just a second before she brightened again. "Well, I'm sure we'll all get along wonderfully." She leaned into Keal, whispering something in his ear that made him smile. Then she kissed his neck, slow and deliberate.

He tilted his head to give her better access.

Something wet hit my hand. I looked down and realized I was crying again.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Catherine barked. "Go do the laundry. The bathroom needs cleaning. Move!"

I turned to leave.

"Actually," Desmond spoke for the first time, his voice oily and low. He had that smirk on his face, the one that made me want to run. His eyes dragged over me in a way that made my skin crawl. "I need Amira to help me with something in my room later."

My stomach twisted.

"Later," Catherine agreed, not even looking up. "Right now she has work to do."

I walked out of the dining room, their laughter following me down the hall.

Behind me, I heard Emma's voice, bright and cheerful. "Keal, feed me this one! And then tell me you love me! I waited three whole years to hear you say it again!"

"I love you," he said without hesitation.

I closed the door to the laundry room and sank to the floor, my hand pressed against my mouth to keep the sobs from escaping.

Three years.

Emma had been gone for three years.

And Keal had waited for her.

All this time, he'd been waiting for her.

This was my life.

This was my marriage.

And I didn't know how much longer I could survive it.