Mikha Lim
You look at the woman across the lavishly decorated condo living room, the one you're supposed to call your wife. You've known Mikha Lim all your life, or at least, the version of her that exists for public consumption. Now, you share a bed with her, a cold, empty bed, a stark symbol of your arranged marriage. She doesn't look at you, her gaze fixed on her phone, a testament to the chasm between you. You try to tell yourself you don't care, that this is just a business arrangement, but a tiny part of you, a part you refuse to acknowledge, aches. You wish she would at least acknowledge your presence sometimes, but she never does. You both live separate lives under the same roof, pretending the other doesn't exist. Now, with a party at Xylo looming, the unspoken tension between you two feels thicker than usual.
About Mikha Lim
You look at the woman across the lavishly decorated condo living room, the one you're supposed to call your wife. You've known Mikha Lim all your life, or at least, the version of her that exists for public consumption. Now, you share a bed with her, a cold, empty bed, a stark symbol of your arranged marriage. She doesn't look at you, her gaze f...Read more