Shadows of the Heart

The soft glow of dawn seeped through the curtains of Amelia's bedroom, painting the room in hues of orange and gold. She lay motionless on the bed, eyes wide open, her mind too restless for sleep. She'd been awake for hours, her thoughts chasing each other in endless circles.

Her gaze shifted toward the adjoining wall, her thoughts drifting to Ethan. Somewhere beyond that wall, he was probably still asleep, unbothered by the weight she carried. Does he ever worry about anything? she wondered. He always seemed so at ease, like nothing could rattle him.

But it weighed on her. Heavily. Every smile, every word exchanged with his family felt like walking on a tightrope. No one in this house saw her as a person. To them, she was "the wife" — a role to fill, a duty to perform.

She glanced at the clock. 6:45 AM. It was time to get up, to face another day of expectations. Her body felt like it had been wrung dry of energy, but she forced herself to move. After a shower, she slipped into a simple blouse and jeans, tying her hair into a neat bun.

She didn't care about looking glamorous for anyone here. This was survival, not a beauty pageant.

---

Elite Touch Events

By 9:00 AM, Amelia was at the venue for her latest event — an intimate engagement party for twenty guests. The setting was a private garden, adorned with fresh white roses, soft pink tulips, and lavender-scented candles lining the path.

She moved with purpose, her clipboard in hand, checking off every detail with precision. The caterers were setting up the buffet, and the decorators were carefully draping the satin fabric along the tent's edges.

"Careful with that arch!" she called out, walking briskly toward a worker struggling with a floral arrangement. She adjusted it herself, stepping back to inspect it. Her gaze sharpened. "It's leaning too far to the left. Balance it out."

Martha, her assistant, jogged up with her phone in hand. "Amelia, the cake is delayed. They said traffic is holding them up."

Amelia took a deep breath, her fingers tapping against the clipboard. She quickly calculated the impact. The couple was scheduled to arrive at 12:30 PM. That left a window.

"Call them back. Tell them they have one hour to get here, or we'll send someone to pick it up," she said firmly. "If they can't make it, have Plan B on standby. Call The Sweet Crumb Bakery and see if they can provide a replacement."

Martha nodded and rushed off, phone already pressed to her ear.

Amelia glanced at her watch. 10:15 AM. Two hours to go. She moved like a general on the battlefield, giving instructions, answering questions, and solving problems on the fly. To the untrained eye, it was chaos, but to her, it was a symphony she conducted with expert timing.

This was her world. Her space. Her escape. Here, she was in control.

As she checked the final arrangement of the table centerpieces, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Eleanor Blake's name flashing on the screen.

Her heart sank, fingers hovering over the "decline" button. But after a brief pause, she answered. "Good morning, Mrs. Blake."

"Amelia, have you forgotten about the family dinner this Friday?" Eleanor's tone was sweet but laced with condescension.

"No, ma'am. I have it on my schedule," Amelia replied, forcing her voice to remain polite.

"Good. Make sure you're presentable. First impressions last, and I won't have people thinking poorly of the Blake family."

"Yes, ma'am," Amelia replied, gripping the clipboard tighter. The call ended with a sharp click.

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, she just stood there, staring at the flowers in front of her. She inhaled slowly, counting to five, and exhaled just as slowly. Back to work, Amelia. Back to work.

---

Golden Lens Photography

The sun bathed Willow Park in soft golden light. The leaves shimmered like tiny lanterns swaying in the breeze.

Ethan Blake crouched low, adjusting his lens. His assistant, Ryan, stood beside him, carrying a bag of spare equipment.

"Portrait shoot today?" Ryan asked, checking the schedule on his phone.

"Yeah," Ethan said, snapping a few test shots. "Couple wants that 'enchanted forest' look. Engagement photos."

"Romantic," Ryan replied with a grin. "Did you and Amelia do this kind of shoot before the wedding?"

Ethan lowered his camera, glancing at Ryan. "You really want me to answer that?"

Ryan chuckled. "Relax, man. Just trying to get you to lighten up."

"Don't." Ethan adjusted the camera settings, his gaze narrowing through the viewfinder. "This isn't about me."

Ryan raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. No jokes about the boss's love life."

Click. Click. Click. Ethan captured the couple as they embraced under the oak trees. Smiles. Laughter. Their love seemed so effortless. So easy.

He tried not to think about it. Don't compare, Ethan. Focus on the shot.

---

Insight Daily Media

The hum of newsroom activity filled the air. Claire sat at her desk, fingers typing furiously on her laptop. The bright screen displayed the rough draft of an article titled, "Hidden Scandals in the Heart of Edgewood."

Her eyes darted between her notes and the screen. Her heart pounded as she pieced together the story, driven by the urgency to meet the deadline. Journalism was like chasing shadows — always a step behind until, suddenly, you weren't.

Her editor, Mr. Collins, walked by, his sharp eyes scanning the newsroom like a hawk.

"Bennett," he called, halting at her desk. She looked up, already bracing herself. "Your expose on Titan Edge Global? Impressive. Keep it up."

Her chest swelled with pride. "Thank you, sir."

He nodded and walked off, leaving Claire to bask in the moment. But it didn't last long. Her eyes returned to the screen, her fingers hovering over the keys. For all her success, something still felt... off.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Ethan. "Hope you're good, Claire. Just checking in."

Her chest tightened. She stared at the message, thumb hovering over the screen.

Why does he still check on me? she thought, her heart aching with a familiar ache. It had been months since they agreed to remain friends, but sometimes, it felt like her heart hadn't agreed.

With a sigh, she turned the phone face down and focused on her work. Keep going, Claire. Just keep going.

---

Blake Residence

The sun had begun its slow descent by the time Amelia arrived home. The weight of the day bore down on her, but the sight of the house only added to it.

The sound of clinking dishes echoed from the kitchen. Amelia dropped her bag near the door, slipped off her shoes, and walked in to find Ethan at the sink, washing a plate.

Her brows lifted slightly. "That's new."

Ethan glanced over his shoulder, smirking. "I do this sometimes."

"Once a month doesn't count," she muttered, walking past him to grab a glass of water.

He chuckled but didn't respond. She watched him for a moment, noting the way his sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms, still damp from the water. She shook her head, clearing the thought.

"How was your event?" he asked.

"Stressful. Cake delay, last-minute decor changes, and I had to fix a floral arch myself." She leaned against the counter, sipping her water.

"Sounds like fun," he said, rinsing another plate.

"Fun is not the word," she replied, lips curling into a tired smile.

They stood in silence for a while — not tense, but not exactly comfortable either. Just... silence.

"Want me to heat up dinner?" he asked.

She blinked, surprised. "You cooked?"

"Don't get excited," he said, drying his hands. "I ordered Chinese."

For the first time that day, she laughed. It wasn't much, but it was real.!