DAISY JOYCE
Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm the nerves bubbling in my stomach. Today was an important day; my sister-in-law was coming over, and I wanted everything to be perfect. With a friendly smile, I opened the door to greet her. "Oh, welcome! How was your trip?" I asked, inviting her inside. "Please, make yourself comfortable!"
She walked in with a elegance that immediately drew my gaze. "Wow, you're really beautiful! I can't believe my brother married someone so young and lovely," she said, offering a sincere compliment. I also told her, "You look beautiful." Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. "Thank you! That's so sweet of you!" she responded, her smile lighting up the entire room.
Then, with curious eyes, she asked, "Is your husband around?"
I shook my head, feeling a wave of nerves wash over me. "No, but he's on his way! He should be here very soon."
Her face softened as she nodded. "Oh, that's alright. I hope it's not a silly question, but could you tell me how you and my brother met?"
In that moment, a wave of tension hit me unexpectedly. I was unprepared for such a direct question. What if Damond had told her a different story? Panic started to rise, and I reminded myself, I need to be careful.
"Okay, I'll have to think of something," I told myself silently. Just then, I heard a familiar voice in the doorway.
"Is that why you came to visit?" Damond asked playfully as he walked in.
My sister-in-law turned to him, her face glowing, and asked, "Daisy, I'm you curious about how you two met?"
I quickly interrupted, "Oh, um, no… we actually met at a bar, if you really want to know," I stuttered, trying to sound relaxed.
But as soon as the words escaped my mouth, guilt twisted in my stomach. "Wait, how could he have been at a bar if he can't see? How would he even know what he was drinking?" Confusion clouded my mind, but I shook those thoughts away.
Now wasn't the time for doubt. I hurried over to Damond, embracing him tightly, grateful for his comforting presence. "Danny, love! How was work today?" I asked, looking into his eyes, hoping for reassurance.
"Fine," he replied, his tone steady, but I sensed something unreadable on his face.
"Hope you're not feeling overwhelmed," I said, softening my gaze to show I cared.
"No, not at all," he assured me, returning my smile. Relief flooded over me as I realized he felt good about everything. "Thank goodness, everything is going smoothly."
DAMOND CHRIS
I rushed home, my heart racing with excitement. Just before walking through the door, I heard the tail end of a conversation—Daisy, my pretend wife, was facing questions about our love story. The silence felt thick and uncomfortable. I knew I had to jump in.
My sister-in-law has a knack for digging deeper and always seeks the truth, so I took a deep breath and stepped into the room confidently. "We met at a bar, trying to lighten the mood," I announced, hoping to steer the conversation away from any awkward questions.
Moments later, Daisy enveloped me in a warm embrace, her affection soothing my nerves. For a moment, I thought, "Perfect! She's playing her role beautifully."
We settled into the cozy living room, and the atmosphere grew calmer. But my sister-in-law was relentless in her curiosity. "This marriage seems perfect! Honestly, I thought you'd choose someone younger—not someone closer in age," she remarked.
Before I could respond, my sister added, "Daisy, if you don't mind me asking, why did you marry my brother, knowing he's a bit older?"
Daisy looked her in the eye with confidence. "Love knows no age. It's not about the numbers; it's about the genuine connection we share."
My sister nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "I see. I feel like I'll learn so much just by watching the two of you," she said thoughtfully.
DAISY JOYCE
Just then, Damond's sister's phone rang loudly, interrupting our conversation. "Excuse me, I need to take this call," she said, getting up from her seat with determination.
As soon as she stepped away, I felt a wave of satisfaction wash over me. "I really nailed that performance," I thought, remembering my childhood dream of becoming an actress. I wished I had pursued that dream more passionately, but a tragic event a decade ago had pulled me away from the stage.
"Did I do well?" I asked Damond, my pride shining through.
"Absolutely," he replied, and I couldn't help but smile at his compliment. But then I recalled that I didn't know much about him. "By the way, how old are you?" I asked casually, but the silence that followed was heavy.
"Your parents might be curious about my age too," I added, and finally he replied in a calm voice, "30 years."
That revelation hit me unexpectedly. I quickly withdrew my hand from his, having forgotten that we were holding hands. "I'm so sorry for holding your hand too long! You just look way younger than I thought, and it surprised me," I stumbled over my words.
To my shock, my innocent comment seemed to trigger something in him. His face darkened, and I could sense anger lurking beneath the surface. "Keep your distance now," he said sharply.
Taken aback, I moved to the far side of the couch, my heart racing with confusion. "What did I say?" I wondered to myself, bewildered.
A little while later, the door opened, and without thinking, I shifted back to his side, taking his hand again. Just then, his sister walked into the room, looking at us with skepticism. Acting on instinct, I leaned in and gave Damond a quick kiss on the cheek, hoping to ease any doubts she might have.
"Oh sister-in-law, please! Not in front of me! I'm not sticking around for dinner; I just got a call from my agent," she joked, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Are you really an actress?" I asked, pretending to be surprised.
"No, I'm a singer. I go by the name Mimi. Hope that's okay," she said with a friendly smile.
"So, you didn't know I'm a singer?" I replied, teasingly.
"No, that's not it; I've seen you in a TV series," she answered, a spark of recognition lighting up her face.
"Yes, I was in a commercial. But I should let you both have some space; I won't be staying overnight. Let's make plans for the weekend. Until then!" she said, waving goodbye.
After she left, I turned to Damond, but he had already gone into his study, leaving me in a whirlwind of confusion. What had I done to make him react that way? Had I crossed a line? Even though I knew I shouldn't dwell on it, I couldn't shake off his puzzling anger. Then it hit me: I needed to open a bank account soon, and I really hoped that "mad dog" wouldn't bark at me when the time came. The mix of excitement and nerves swirled inside me as I tried to figure out what the future might hold.