By April, the cracks in their perfect marriage began to widen. Rick's money had run out, though pride kept him from saying it aloud. Kiara saw the strain etched on his face, the way his hands lingered too long on overdue bills.
When she carefully suggested she could work, Rick's reaction startled her.
"Don't I provide for you? Haven't I given you everything?" His voice rose, filled with hurt and fury. Fear knotted in Kiara's stomach, and she said no more.
But as days passed, Rick's frustration turned to desperation. He began pressuring Kiara to use the million-dollar "gift" her mother had given her. Kiara resisted. She had vowed never to touch that money, a symbol of her mother's rejection. But Rick persisted until she finally relented, though not without terms: he could use it only if she worked to replace whatever was spent. After a storm of arguments, he agreed.
Her new job brought her joy. Kiara's designs quickly turned into bestsellers, bringing her company record profits. At last, her creativity was seen, her name whispered with admiration. But Rick didn't see her success—only his own failure.
One night, their quarrel spiraled. Kiara accused him of acting entitled. His hand struck her face—once, then again. Shock paralyzed her, then tears blurred her sight. Moments later, he begged forgiveness, swearing it would never happen again.
Kiara, broken but yearning to keep her world intact, convinced herself it was her fault.
The fact that she was now financially independent didn't bring much succour. She'd gone through a lot and the only thing she wanted to hold on to the most was her marriage. She had nothing besides it. She had parents but she was quite certain that there wasn't much difference between her and those who had none. She couldn't bear the thought of giving birth to her child in a broken home. So she pushed all the wise thoughts away and schooled herself into believing that it was a turbulent time that would soon pass.
But deep down, she feared the truth: this was only the beginning.