The penthouse apartment was surely lavish and fit for a duke. Hera's mouth went agape taking in each and every corner of the prestige present. It was pristine and modern with a large balcony encompassing the glass walls and the ceiling height made Hera feel as if she wasn't even in an apartment. They were so high already and adding the ceiling height and open concept of the rooms screamed luxury.

She laughed when Daman showed her the fire pit that was equipped with a massive hookah out on the balcony which wrapped around the whole apartment.

Once Hera was settled in her room which was next to Daman's she let out a breath of relief and closed her eyes as she sat on the bed.

"Finally..." she murmured to herself. It was all coming together. She was here, unpacking her clothes in her new wardrobe. She had a roof over her head and food in the kitchen. A job interview was scheduled and once she started working then she would be able to tackle the credit card debt and save up. It was going to be a frugal upcoming months for an indefinite amount of time but she needed money to pile up in her bank account.

Hera had managed to only get halfway through neatly placing what clothes she had with her in the closet. It was around 5am and she desperately needed to sleep. Quickly she immersed herself in a hot, steaming shower, changed into her sleepshirt and then sank deep into the fluffy covers that where made of feathers.

***

Waking up the next morning it was already around 10am. Hera let out a gnarly yawn because morning breath was one of her many vices. It was strong, pungent and disgusting but Hera was by no means perfect. Some days she embraced her quirks and others she wanted to ball up and cry for what she was. It was a never ending cycle.

Confidence was difficult.

Now that her life had some light thrown in amidst the darkness, Hera was taking proactive steps to continue the path of flourishing.

While scrolling through Instagram the previous day, she had read a caption that attested for manifesting. It was something that she was going to try. Her life needed as much stability as she could get and perhaps writing her scattered thoughts and dreams would amount to something.

She yanked out a diary from her handbag and sat on the little vanity table in hopes to get a morning routine going from now on. She needed positivity in her life.

Hera wrote down 3 things she was grateful for - Daman, the fact that she got to see her dad after a very long time and her hair. Perhaps the last one was completely vain but she loved that aspect about herself. The curls always attracted attention and often times people asked to touch it. It was her pride and joy.

Then she wrote down 3 things that she desired - a stable job, financial stability and direction. The last one was coming along well but the operative word between the first two made her nervous. Stability. Why was it so difficult for crying out loud? She was already 25! Life was supposed to be working out.

Hera was aware that she had the whole day and apartment to herself. Daman had prior informed her that he'd be leaving at 8am for a flight to Kuwait and he'd return after 2 days. He just wanted to make sure that she was settled and he told her that in the meantime she could get acquainted with her new home.

As Daman sat on the plane, he thought about his life presently. He was literally moving his entire business to another country for a woman. It would have been so much easier for him to have chosen any other girl but he had dabbled with the idea of choosing Hera during their third interaction and did he regret it yet? No he didn't. Not one bit.

Hera was a breath of fresh air from his usual selection of woman. She saw the world the same way he did and that was what their compatibility was thriving on but this was just an added factor. He needed to speak to Youssef as soon as possible!

He thought back to their conversation about religion on the boat ride from Bahrain to the Doulah islands. It was such a touchy subject that they both had viewed with the same mentality.

Being a Muslim in a western world was by absolute no means easy. Religion was forever encompassing and an individual has to have a genuine connection with their faith otherwise it was all for nothing. It's even more difficult when the concept of marriage also gets thrown in. They both were Muslim, however they acknowledged their shortcomings.

They then talked about politics and Daman was amazed to hear her views about it. He was always directly involved in political matters seeing that he was a duke and he was impressed when Hera vouched for opinions on democracy, women's rights, gender-based violence, corruption, visionary leaders and the list went on and on.

Apart from her intelligence, he fathomed that she had a strong emotional side to her as well. If she managed to feel hurt that deeply, then it was obvious to assume she lived an emotionally rich life. It was mystifying that she embodied such great qualities.

All qualities that he was looking for.

"Sir, would like a refill?" the hostess asked politely and snapped Daman out of his thoughts. He nodded and got out his laptop aiming to finish read the lease agreement that was for his 5 new business floors in the London CBD.

Meanwhile, Hera had heartily consumed a nourishing breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausages and toast with a decadent cup of sweet coffee before changing into a pair of sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt.

She threw her purse on the bed and rummaged through for some change to take the bus to her previous apartment. She needed to clear out what little she had and return the key to he landlord who undoubtedly would want to ring her neck for not paying the rent.

Hera was aware that she failed her contractual obligations but she told herself that she'd allocate some of her first paycheck to clearing out her debt with the landlord. It was the right thing to do. She didn't want any negativity catching up with her in the future.

Making her way downstairs, she was about to head to the bus station when a chauffeur appeared in front of her.

"Miss Uzayr?" he enquired.

"Yes?"

The chauffeur slightly bowed his head as a sign of respect for her since was serving the soon-to-be-duchess of Doulah as Daman had informed him.

"Mr. Faiyaz has allocated me as your driver from now on. I am Johan Peter."

Hera was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't something completely out of the ordinary for her to have a driver. Youssef provided a driver at Hera's beck and call when she was in school. However her independence was served when it came to university.

"Oh alright. Thank you. I'm Hera."

Johan opened the door of the backseat of the Audi and gestured for Hera to enter. She did so gladly, happy to avoid the struggles of taking a bus and then walking the rest of the way. Besides she would have a couple of boxes to commute back with.

Hera communicate the location she needed to be at and sat comfortably back in her seat. She then took out her phone looking at the notifications which was always dry. Scrolling through Instagram, she saw all of the pictures of her so-called friends hanging out and partying, going to the beaches, visiting restaurants but she lacked an invitation ever since she could remember.

She then felt the bile rise up to her throat when she saw a picture of Mikael's newborn son posted on his brother's page.

Quickly, Hera refreshed the app so that it disappeared. She didn't want to be that person, but inevitably she was. Maybe she was turbulent with her emotions but seeing his son made her feel even more resentment for Mikael.

What am I becoming? Hera thought to herself. It's an innocent baby for crying out loud!

Nevertheless, Hera pushed her emotions away and focused on the ride to her old apartment.

The next night Hera sat alone in the living room with the television blaring in front of her. Daman was set to return tonight and she had properly settled into the apartment with her things all put away.

She hadn't heard from Daman, not even a text, but she knew that he was busy and opted not to disturb him.

Hera watched Almas on the television sitting next to Fauci with a smug face. Almas blabbered on about their new developments which was apparently vital to humankind. Something about tweaking the current method of stem cell therapy along with the changes that need to be made in biological engineering and genetic modification... Hera hardly understood a word seeing that the jargon was hardly to her level. All she knew was basic English and she still struggled with the Latin law terms.

She realised that she was being a bit sour with most things around her. Almas was her brother and she should text him a congratulations. Even though he could be a dick at times. All the time.

Once their raved about interview had concluded, Hera took out her cell phone and hesitantly sent a text to Almas congratulating him. The next notification surprised her. It was from Ruwayda.

-Hope all is well. Remember, Youssef won't hesitate to help out. He is your father.

Hera looked at the at the text once again. She wasn't sure what to think about it. Hera thought that this is perhaps the one time in her life that her mother would step up and maybe help her out. Alas, proved wrong yet again.

The door to the apartment was pushed open and in came an exhausted Daman holding his blazer in his hand with his tie left undone.

"Hello, gorgeous," he greeted Hera playfully with a smile. Daman was glad to be back. He missed her company. He missed looking at her gorgeous face everyday. He missed her.

She immediately stood up glad to have Daman back as well. Unexpectedly she threw herself onto him and he enveloped her into a massive hug caught quite off-guard by her gesture.

"Someone missed me too," he let out as he gently placed her down back on her feet.

Hera wasn't shy to acknowledge that. "I actually did," she whispered.