Joe's wife thinks she lives the perfect married life, but Joe hides a secret life with Fahayra. His other woman. The one who has his heart.
Started June 10, 2022
Published September 15, 2023
Completed tba
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Joe sat on the edge of his bed, the weight of his thoughts heavier than ever. His phone rested in his hand, the screen lighting up with notifications that he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried.
Every time he checked his feed, there was a new picture or video from Fahayra and Galina. They were out at some party, living it up, dancing, laughing—everything he wasn't a part of anymore.
Every image seemed to come with its own little stab to his heart. It was almost as if the universe was reminding him of what he had lost, what he had ruined, and how little control he had over anything now.
Another video popped up. This time, it was Fahayra—wearing a swimsuit, laughing in a cowboy hat, throwing herself into an exaggerated dance move as Galina cheered her on. The sound of Galina's voice rang out through the video: "You got it, girl! You're killing it!"
Joe couldn't help but feel the jealousy clawing at him. He had seen Fahayra like this before, had been the one she turned to when she wanted to let go.
But now, seeing her acting this free, with Galina egging her on, it felt like a betrayal. He knew he had no right to feel that way, but the emotions inside him were tangled up—guilt, anger, hurt, and deep shame.
He didn't know what had driven him to keep checking the videos. What was he hoping for? That something would change? That one of them would send him a message, apologize, tell him it was all a mistake? He knew better. They had moved on from him. From the man he was—one who had broken their trust more times than he could count, one who had taken them for granted.
His thumb paused over the screen, and he checked the time. Late. Too late for him to be sitting here moping, scrolling through his feed, feeling sorry for himself. He tossed his phone onto the bed, hoping it would somehow remove the heavy feeling in his chest. But it didn't.
Joe leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair, trying to breathe through the tightness in his chest. This is my fault, he thought. All of it. I've been a fool. The thought of Fahayra and Galina together like this, more than just friends, felt almost unbearable.
It was the culmination of everything he had done wrong, everything he had neglected. He couldn't even blame them for it, not really. They had their own lives, their own choices. What did he have to say about it? He had destroyed whatever trust they had in him. He had destroyed them, or at least the version of them that existed when they were with him.
As he sat in the silence of his bedroom, the door creaked open, and in walked his daughters, Khaila and Karimah. They were young, sweet, and full of energy. Karimah, the younger of the two, always seemed to have something on her mind, her voice high-pitched with excitement.
"Hey, Daddy," Karimah asked, skipping into the room. "Can we get McDonald's for dinner tonight?"
Joe forced a smile, trying to hide the ache in his chest. "Of course," he muttered, barely registering her words.
His mind was somewhere else, still stuck on the video. God, I'm pathetic.
Khaila, always the more level-headed of the two, looked at him with curiosity. She was a little older, enough to understand when something wasn't right. "And can we stay up late tonight?" she asked, her eyes wide, full of innocence.
Joe glanced at her and then sighed, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wasn't in the mood for anything more, but he also knew how much they loved those late nights together.
He shook his head, trying to push past the exhaustion. "Absolutely not," he said firmly, even though a part of him hated himself for snapping.
Khaila's lip curled into a small pout. She didn't argue, but Joe could see the slight disappointment in her eyes. Karimah, always the vocal one, chimed in as they walked out of his room, "I don't know why you even asked him that," she said to Khaila with a laugh.
Joe didn't respond. He barely heard them leave. His focus was back on his phone, his thumb automatically scrolling through Fahayra's Instagram story again, despite everything inside him screaming to stop.
The new video was even worse. Fahayra, now on the floor, was doing a split, and Galina was behind her, cheering her on. She slapped Fahayra's ass hard, the sound of it echoing in the video.
Joe's heart twisted. He hated it, but he couldn't look away. The display was a spectacle—a combination of seduction, attention-seeking, and pure adrenaline. It was the kind of thing Fahayra had always loved doing. But now it wasn't just about her.
Galina, the one person who had always seemed so stable, so grounded, was right there with her, encouraging her, laughing, and making it clear that she was enjoying this. Together, they seemed to form a unit—one that Joe no had a place in.
The anger started to bubble again, and it wasn't just at the two of them. It was at himself. He had done this. All those nights out, all those lies, all the women he'd been with behind their backs—it had pushed them away.
It had made them feel like they needed to do this—to be seen this way. And now, here they were, finding comfort in each other, running to each other when he had broken them apart.
He knew he had lost them. But still, the thought lingered: Was I the one who pushed them together?
The idea seemed far-fetched at first. Galina had never seemed the type. Neither had Fahayra, for that matter. They were both strong women, different in their own ways, but they were never this. They never showed signs of being anything other than friends, despite the connection they had.
But now, after seeing the way they were acting in the videos, the flirtation, the closeness—it was hard not to question it. Had he driven them to this point? Had his behavior been the catalyst for them seeking comfort in each other's arms?
Joe dropped his head into his hands. What the hell have I done? His thoughts were a mess, and no matter how hard he tried to untangle them, he kept coming back to the same conclusion: he was the reason for all of this.
His betrayal. His dishonesty. The fact that he had failed them both, over and over again, until they were left with no other choice but to lean on each other.
A text notification popped up on his phone. It was from Joshua. "Bro, you really let them get that close, huh? I told you they'd end up messing around."
Joe's blood boiled. He didn't need Joshua to rub it in. He was already embarrassed, and angry at himself. But Joshua's words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had let it happen, hadn't he? He had let the one thing that could have brought them back—his honesty, his commitment—slip through his fingers, and now it was too late. They had moved on. They had found a bond he couldn't touch, no matter how much he wished he could.
The tears were close now. He hated himself for feeling weak, for feeling like the victim when he had done this to himself. He had done this to Fahayra and Galina. He had destroyed everything, and now they were free. They were out there, together, doing the things he should have done with them.
Joe laid back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his heart heavy with the weight of it all. He had lost them, and this time, there was no way to get them back.
All he could do now was watch from the sidelines as the two women who once meant everything to him ran to each other, finding solace in each other's arms, their laughter filling the void he had left. And as painful as it was, he couldn't deny that they deserved it.
