Beyond the paper walls

Loneliness is a silent predator

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, and I felt a chill run down my spine. "Wife?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper, as if the ground beneath me had given way, leaving me in free fall.

The woman beside him, still nameless to me, glanced over with a mixture of confusion and pity. "Oh, I didn't realize," she said, her voice softening as she took in the tension. "Sorry if I interrupted."

Zane's face was unreadable, but his jaw clenched tightly. "It's fine," he replied, though his tone was anything but.

I forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil churning inside. "Congratulations," I managed, my voice catching. "I hope you two are... very happy."

The weight of memories and dreams washed over me-dreams I thought we'd once shared. As I took a step back, Zane's words from years ago echoed in my mind. I couldn't help myself from adding, "I'm just a bit shocked. I remember you telling everyone how you didn't want kids or a wife. Just... Spanish or Latina girls all the time."

"Yes, that man has long gone now. It's his daughter who's his priority; otherwise, he doesn't even give a damn about me," she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

Zane just stood there without even denying the fact, his eyes darting away as if the truth might vanish if he didn't acknowledge it.

The irony was almost too much. How could someone so determined to avoid commitment be standing there, married, with a family? I looked at him, searching for the man I'd once known, but all I saw was a stranger wearing a ring like a shackle.

"Oh! That's... great. You know, daughters are usually their dads' princesses," I replied, deliberately sidestepping the other part of her sentence.

"By the way, I'm Sofia. Nice to meet you!" she said, her tone shifting to one of excitement, a stark contrast to her earlier mood.

"Hi! Nice to meet you," I said, trying my best to smile, though it felt like the last thing anyone would have seen me do in years.

I turned to his daughter, letting her innocence anchor me. "Hey, little one! What's your name?"

"Alana," she said shyly, her blue eyes bright. "What's yours?"

"That's a beautiful name. I'm Aria Devonshire."

"Aria Devon... sh-sh-sh..." she stammered, trying to get my name right.

"It's okay, sweetheart, just call me whatever you want."

Her eyes lit up. "Can I call you Ari?"

"Of course, whatever you like."

"Call her Gothel," Zane cut in, a smirk in his eyes.

"The evil woman from Rapunzel, Dada?"

"Yep, that one," he replied, clearly enjoying himself.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. With Zane, my eyes got a workout every time. He knew just how to irritate me-and loved every second of it.

"Fun fact," he added casually. "Gothel hoarded the rejuvenation powers of a magical flower to stay young."

That was always Zane: a walking library of random knowledge. It was one of the things I loved about him. His looks turned heads, sure, but it was his brain that drew me in. There had been times I wanted to listen to him talk for hours, just blurting out facts. And yet, right now, I could hardly stand being near him.

"Dada, can we get one of those flowers for Mama?" Alana asked, excited. "She's always saying how old she's getting."

I blinked, catching the unexpected roast from the sweet little girl. Zane chuckled, trying to contain his laughter. "She's a model, baby, that's why she's so conscious of her looks."