Tears Of A Lady

I couldn't breathe.

It was too hard to breathe.

The weight of my emotions pressed down on my chest, suffocating me. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over, but I fought to hold them back.

The pain was unbearable, like a vice squeezing tighter with each passing moment.

But as much as I tried to suppress it, the anguish within me demanded release.

Suddenly, it felt like I was choking, gasping for air in a sea of despair. And then, in a moment of surrender, the dam broke, and the tears I had been holding back cascaded down my cheeks.

With each tear shed, it was as if a little bit of the suffocating pressure lifted. Breathing became easier, the tightness in my chest loosened, and I found solace in the release of my pent-up emotions. In that vulnerable moment, as the tears flowed freely, I allowed myself to feel the weight of my sorrow, knowing that only by embracing it could I begin to heal.

My body leaned against the wall and my bag fell to the ground. I took off my heels, the cold ground sipping through my stockings.

Thunder was heard and I knew it was going to rain soon but I didn't care, maybe it could wash away this tightness in my chest.

My eyes flickers as I sat on the floor not caring about my reputation.

Seven years gone down the drain. It was as if I had lived through another person life.

Aurora and Jaxon looked happy. They were smiling at each other before they saw me, her ring was shining under the glamorous lights. Aurora had the life I should have had. The fashion, the modeling, and my husband.

I did not want to cry because it was my weakness that put me in this predicament.

My days of longing and love were all shattered in one day.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, interrupting my solitude. A voice pierced through the silence, mocking me with cruel words: "Forgotten daughter of the Stark family, or is it heiress found sitting on the floor crying like a lost sheep. Is this disgrace or embarrassment or whatever those tabloids say?"

I looked up to see Zayn walking towards me, his hands tucked in his pockets, his expensive watch gleaming in the cloudy daylight.

"I am glad that my situation can be found amusing by you," I replied. But even as I tried to compose myself, the tears continued to flow, betraying my facade of strength.

He ignored my words, kneeling beside me and gently tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ears. "But even in tears and sorrow, you still look like a beauty from a magazine," he remarked softly. Surprised by his unexpected compliment, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. It was the first genuine smile since I had stepped out of that resort.

"You should be a poet," I teased, feeling a glimmer of warmth in the midst of my pain.

He shrugged casually. "I actually thought about it," he admitted.

"You just promised death to someone, and yet here you are crying as if he stole your puppy," he remarked with a hint of disbelief, handing me a handkerchief. I accepted it with a murmured thank you, wiping away the tears that refused to cease.

"He didn't just steal my puppy," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. "He stepped on it multiple times and killed it." The memory of the betrayal twisted my heart painfully. "He killed me inside."

He looked at me intently, his gaze searching. "So what are you going to do about it... cry?" he asked, his tone challenging.

I met his gaze steadily, determination sparking within me. "No," I replied firmly, folding the handkerchief neatly and tucking it into my pocket. "I won't let him have that satisfaction."

And he smiled, extending his hand to help me up. "Good, I like that," he said approvingly, his gaze unwavering.

"What about that offer of you marrying me?" he asked, his tone light but sincere.

"Hold it first," I interjected, raising a hand. "I have some things I would have to clean up."

"Things you don't want the Stark family to destroy," he stated knowingly, and I frowned, feeling exposed.

"I know you have a cafe," he continued casually, and I sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "Typical for you to have an investigation about me," I muttered under my breath.

He feigned sadness, his expression exaggerated. "So you aren't going to marry me," he lamented.

"Marriage is the last thing on my list right now," I replied with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"Alright," he conceded with a laugh. "My penthouse is still open for you to live in. Let me take you home then."

Before I could respond, my eyes caught sight of a man rushing by, camera in hand.

Shit!