The Nanny

By naia22

2.3M 168K 6.4K

"You are fired," he said, as my heart broke into tiny pieces. "No please sir, don't separate me from Imad. I... More

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty One
Chapter Forty Two
Chapter Forty Three
ON HOLD
Chapter Forty Four
Chapter Forty Five
Chapter Forty Six
Chapter Forty Seven
Chapter FortyEight
Epilogue
"The Nanny : Part 2"
PART 2 : Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Three

40K 2.9K 87
By naia22

I can't do this anymore. I look at the ring on my finger, a little piece of me inside just dies a little whenever I look at it. It hurts, it hurts so much that my life is based mostly upon torment. It makes me wonder if I will ever be genuinely happy with living my life. I have thought about dying once too many times, I don't know how to continue living like this. Why does it feel like whatever I do is wrong? Why does my heart feel so heavy? I don't think I can hide my pain any longer, I am only days away to a complete melt down.

An inspector who works for the government will come over to the mansion next week. To investigate whether my marriage to Mr Ahmed is a sham or not. If the government ever finds out the truth it will be banishment for ten years from America for Mr Ahmed, as for me imprisonment or exile. Whatever the judge decides. Faking a marriage in order to get a green card is felony. So not only am I lying to myself, I am also lying the government.

With everything being said... I can't mess things up, I can't let my feelings get in the way. Anything I say or how I act can jeopardize this facade. Imad is starting to get better, I don't want to ruin that. I did this for him. I look myself in the mirror and wipe my tears, I have been crying for a while now. I wash my face and try to smile. In other news, I have to share a  room with Mr Ahmed, not that I sleep in the same room as him. It's just that all my stuff have to be in his room, our room. Got to keep up the act. We have to behave like a couple, that means holding hands and hearing compliments that should make me blush.

Mr Ahmed... no Ahmed. I also have to start calling him informally. It is so hard, he is still my boss. I mean I am not used to calling him just Ahmed. It has been so hard to approach him, his been acting different. He is making it very clear that he wants nothing to do with me. Mr Ahmed barley looks me in the eyes. He doesn't even lash out when I speak my mind, he just ignores me. Which is kind of worse. The only time we have a proper conversation is when he is explaining to me about something important like how we are supposed to act and say when the inspector comes, or when we are going over the story of how we fall in love. It's the most awkward moment, but for Mr Ahmed when he talks about it almost, almost feels like whatever he's saying is true.

I get out of the bathroom, and I notice Mr Ahmed sitting on his bed. He's back from work early today. I came into the room earlier to get my pajamas, than my emotions started to drown me in my thoughts. I decided to go in the bathroom. I wonder how long he's been sitting there. "Assalam alaykum," I greet him.

Mr Ahmed

"Waalikum salam," I replied when she greeted me. I look up to her and notice her eyes are swollen, she's been crying. It gets easier to tell whenever she cries, since she cries almost everyday. It gets harder to not care. Layla looks surprised to see me even though it's my bedroom. "We need to go over our story, on how we fall in love." She gets uncomfortable whenever we talk about that, she narrows her eyes and she crosses her arms across her chest — looking rather agitated. Layla sits on the bed and starts to fidget with her fingers, I am sure my presence makes her nervous. I stood up and paced back and forth.

"Layla has been taking care of my nephew for three years. At first I ignored the fact that I liked her, it would have been weird for her and me. After all I was her boss. Later on I couldn't keep my feelings to my self anymore. It wasn't easy convincing her to marry me, she's always been difficult..." Layla interjects.

"I still don't like that line. I am not difficult," she says. "If anyone who's difficult, it's you."

"It's not important, it's just a story. Anyway... I tried to be open about my feelings and I told her that she's the only woman that makes my heart beat a little faster and she makes me want to be a better person. So whenever I got the chance I reminded her everyday of how her beauty is breathtaking, and how her kind brown eyes make me fall for her every single time I look at them."

"And I still denied you because I was not sure if it was true love or just infactuation. He got mad and decided not to talk to me for two weeks, threatened me with restraining order. I got angry that he wanted to separate me from Imad, because of simply what had happened between us. For some reason I started feeling guilty that I didn't even give him a chance. In a way I was scared to admit that deep down I had feelings for my boss. When I went to talk him and explain my feelings, that's when he proposed," Layla spoke.

"That's not how the story goes," I tell her.

"It's more realistic than meeting up in a park in the middle of the night because we were looking for your dog. Really Ahmed? You don't even have a dog." Layla looked at me, her eyebrow arched. She's beautiful.

"We will continue tomorrow. I am tired," I told her. Layla stood up and walked out of the room, before she left she told me goodnight. I sat back on my bed and buried my face in my hands. This can't be happening... In the most chaotic world she stood as the one constant truth of my life.

***
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