The days after their quiet, almost tender exchange by the window were different. There was a subtle shift in the air between them, a sense of change that neither of them could fully understand, but both could feel.

Zakirah tried not to focus too much on it, but a flicker of hope had ignited within her—a hope that maybe, just maybe, the man she had married could become more than a stranger.

It was still early in the morning when she made her way to the kitchen, the scent of coffee already filling the air. The house was still mostly quiet, save for the soft hum of a few staff members preparing breakfast. As usual, she found herself alone in the space, her fingers brushing over the pages of her novel, trying to think of ways to pour more heart into the scenes between her characters.

But today, something felt different.

She hadn't seen Omar much lately, not beyond the occasional meal where they exchanged formal pleasantries, or the passing moments in the hallway when they both seemed to be on opposite paths. Yet, when she stepped into the kitchen, she found him there, leaning against the counter with his usual stiff posture, but his eyes weren't focused on the usual pile of papers he carried around. Instead, he was just... standing there.

Zakirah paused, unsure whether to say something or simply retreat into her solitude. She was still getting used to the idea that they were not just married, but also, in some way, partners. He didn't look at her immediately, and when he did, there was an odd glimmer in his gaze—something softer than usual.

"Good morning," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

She offered him a small smile, unsure of where this would go. "Good morning, Omar."

He nodded. There was an awkwardness between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was as if they both knew they were learning how to coexist in the same space.

"I didn't expect to see you so early," she said, trying to fill the silence. "You usually have a busy schedule."

His lips twitched slightly, but it wasn't a full smile. "I had a few things to take care of at home. The press conference this afternoon." His gaze shifted toward the counter, and then back to her. "I need you to attend with me."

Zakirah blinked, taken off guard. "Me?"

He nodded, as if it were an obvious request. "Yes. As my wife, it's important that you accompany me. The public sees us as a united front. It's part of my role as mayor."

Zakirah's heart sank slightly. She hadn't considered that her marriage was a public matter. She knew of the responsibilities of being the wife of someone in politics, but it felt strange—almost like an intrusion into her quiet world. Yet, she understood the importance. She had no choice but to step into this role, even if it was something she wasn't prepared for.

"I see," she said quietly, trying not to show her inner conflict. "What do I need to do?"

Omar's gaze softened just a fraction. "Nothing more than be present. Smile. Stand by my side. It's a formality, but a necessary one."

She nodded, understanding the implications of what he was saying. "I'll be ready," she said, more to herself than to him.

As they made their way to the press conference later that afternoon, Zakirah felt an unfamiliar tension in the air. She had never been in the public eye, never thought of herself as someone who would ever have to navigate the complexities of being in a political marriage. But now, here she was—his wife, standing beside him as he addressed the press, his hand gently resting on the podium, his posture commanding as always.

Zakirah stood beside him, a few steps back, keeping her face neutral, as she had learned in the few minutes of preparation before the event. The flashing cameras, the reporters asking questions—everything felt overwhelming. But it wasn't about her. It was about Omar.

She watched him as he responded with confidence, his voice steady, answering the questions with precision. He was every bit the professional politician he was expected to be, and she couldn't help but admire his composure. There was a certain strength in him that she had begun to notice more and more, though she hadn't fully understood it yet.

And then, amidst the barrage of questions, one reporter turned to Zakirah. "Mrs. Khan, how does it feel to be the wife of one of the most influential men in the country?"

Zakirah felt her stomach tighten. She wasn't used to attention, especially not this kind. She glanced at Omar, who gave her a subtle nod, encouraging her to speak.

She took a steadying breath, trying to find her voice in the chaos. "It's an honor, but it's also a responsibility. I support my husband's work, and I believe in what he stands for."

The reporter nodded, moving on to the next question, but for a moment, Zakirah felt like she had stepped into a world that wasn't entirely her own. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was a stark reminder that her role in Omar's life wasn't just confined to the walls of their home.

As the press conference came to an end, they made their way out of the building, the media frenzy behind them. Omar didn't immediately speak, but as they walked through the crowd of aides and security, he glanced at her, the corner of his lips twitching upward for the first time in what felt like forever.

"You handled that well," he said, his tone not overly warm, but acknowledging.

Zakirah felt a small warmth bloom in her chest at his compliment. She had never imagined herself in this position, yet here she was, learning to navigate a world that seemed so foreign to her.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice soft but sincere.

They walked in silence for a few moments, but this time, the quiet wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like a shared understanding, like a small bridge had been built between them. Omar wasn't just her husband in name anymore—he was someone she was beginning to understand, even if only in fragments.

"Zakirah," Omar said, breaking the silence. "I know this isn't what you expected from our marriage. I don't expect you to love this world, but you're doing well so far. You're... adjusting better than I thought."

Zakirah blinked, surprised at his words. He wasn't the type to offer praise easily. "I'm just trying to support you in the way I can. That's all I can do."

A silence passed between them, but it was different this time. It wasn't just the silence of two people living separate lives; it was the quiet of two people who were beginning to understand the importance of each other's roles.

"I don't need you to be perfect," he said, his voice unexpectedly soft. "I just need you to be... here. With me. In whatever way you can."

She nodded, her heart warming at the simplicity of his words. It wasn't much, but it was a start.