Mocked as a Maid by Her Own Husband—She Had the Last Word

The guest bedroom

As the last guest departed, showering Brayden with compliments on his maid’s exceptional cooking, Kayla barely waited for the door to close before spinning on her heel and storming upstairs. Brayden trailed after her, his footsteps quick but hesitant. She kept her distance, standing poised in the bedroom doorway as he approached. With a cold finality, she announced her decision: she would spend the night in the guestroom. After all, she said, “maids don’t stay the night.”

Morning Silence

Kayla woke to an unusual stillness—the kind that only confirmed Brayden had already left for work. The silence wrapped around her, amplifying the weight of her thoughts and the lingering echoes of the night before. Reluctantly, she swung her legs out of bed and made her way downstairs. The house was immaculate. Brayden had cleaned everything, meticulously wiping away any trace of last night’s dinner. The sight left Kayla with an ache she couldn’t quite place, a hollow pang she quickly dismissed. She busied herself with breakfast, the small, methodical motions grounding her. Then, with a deep breath, she sat down at the table, pen in hand, ready to map out her next steps.