Nobela ni Sunny

Margaret Carter arrived at the penthouse the next morning.Emma was in the kitchen when she heard the front door open, the familiar click of heels against the floor. She tensed, her hands stilling over the breakfast tray. Margaret had never liked her. From the first dinner, the first introduction, the first time Noah had brought Emma home and said, This is the woman I'm going to marry. Margaret had looked at her like she was a stain on the family name.Emma had spent three years trying to earn the woman's approval. Three years of polite smiles, careful conversations, and silent endurance. She had never succeeded.Now, Margaret walked into the kitchen like she owned the place which, technically, she did. Noah had bought the penthouse with family money. It was Carter property. Emma had just been a guest."Mrs. Carter," Emma said quietly, setting down the tray. "Would you like some tea?"Margaret's eyes swept over her with cold disdain. "I'm not here for tea."She walked past Emma and i

Emma woke before dawn. The guest room was cold, the sheets unfamiliar against her skin. She had barely slept, her mind racing through the night, replaying every cruel word Jessica had thrown at her. Every cold glance from Noah. Every moment of her erasure. She rose quietly, padding barefoot through the silent penthouse. The kitchen was empty, the city lights still glittering beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. She moved on autopilot, her hands finding the kettle, the tea canister, the mug Noah had used every morning for the past three years. She paused, her fingers hovering over the canister. Jessica had said he preferred Earl grey. That was a lie. Noah had loved chamomile for years—it was the only tea he ever drank. But after he met Emma, everything changed. She had introduced him to chamomile on their first date, the smoky bergamot flavor reminding her of her grandmother's kitchen. He had fallen in love with it instantly. It tastes like you, he had said, smiling at her across

Emma stood in the center of the guestroom, surrounded by boxes of her belongings, the life she'd once shared with Noah reduced to scattered remnants. She had been unpacking for hours, trying to make sense of the chaos, trying to convince herself that she could survive this.Her hands trembled as she lifted the small velvet box from the bottom of her suitcase. The anniversary gift. The gold bracelet she'd saved for months to buy. The one she'd planned to give him over candlelight and champagne on what was supposed to be their third anniversary.She opened the box, her fingers tracing the engraved initials on the inside of the bracelet. E & N. Forever.Tears blurred her vision.She didn't hear the door open. Didn't hear the soft footsteps on the hardwood floor. But she felt the shift in the air, the sudden coldness that filled the room."What's that?"Emma spun around. Jessica stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the velvet box in Emma's hands. She looked like a pre

The morning sun streamed through the hospital windows, casting the lights across Noah's face. He looked better today. The doctors had removed the breathing tube, and he was sitting up slightly, propped against pillows that Emma had fluffed without thinking. She caught herself and pulled her hand back. Jessica was already there, curled into the chair beside Noah's bed like she belonged there. Her manicured fingers intertwined with his, and she smiled at him with sweetness. "Good morning," Emma said softly, setting the breakfast tray on the rolling table. "I brought you some tea. Chamomile. It helps with—" "He doesn't drink chamomile," Jessica interrupted, her voice dripping with false concern. "Noah prefers Earl Grey. Every morning. Strong, with a splash of milk. Isn't that right, baby?" Noah nodded. "Yes. Thank you." He glanced at Emma, then quickly away, as though she were nothing more than a piece of furniture. Emma set down the tray with trembling hands. "I'll remember that."

Three words that cut deeper than any wound she had ever suffered. Noah's brow furrowed as he studied her face, searching for recognition that refused to come. His gaze traveled from her tear-streaked cheeks to the trembling hands clasped in front of her chest. Nothing. Just the polite confusion of a man meeting someone for the first time at a crowded party. "Emma," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. He nodded slowly, accepting the explanation without interest, and turned his head toward his mother. "Where is she?" Margaret Carter stepped closer, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled handkerchief. "Who, darling?" "Jessica." The name left his lips with such certainty, such relief, that Emma felt her knees buckle. "She was supposed to meet me. We had dinner plans. Is she—is she okay? Was she in the accident too?" The room fell silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. Emma's mind raced. Dinner plans? They had dinner plans tonight—their anniversary dinner.

~Hospital~ Emma had been sitting outside the operating theatre for nearly four hours, but time had long since lost its meaning. The digital clock mounted on the white wall continued to tick forward, indifferent to the storm tearing through her chest. Her fingers tightened around the silver wedding band hanging from the chain around her neck. She had slipped it off hours earlier when she kept twisting it so hard it left angry marks on her finger. Across the hallway, Noah's mother sat silently, her face buried in a handkerchief. His younger sister paced from one end of the corridor to the other, stopping every few minutes to glance anxiously at the doors marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. No one spoke. There was nothing left to say. Emma lowered her head and stared at the blood drying beneath her fingernails. It wasn't hers. When the police officer had called earlier that afternoon, she had been halfway through tasting the pasta sauce simmering in their kitchen. Noah had promised