Novels by Mask love

Sandra's pov“That's impossible!” I spluttered out trying to control myself, “I'm on birth control,” I told the doctor confidently. The doctor looked at me with kind understanding eyes, “I understand Ma'am, but no contraceptive is 100%–” I didn't let her finish, instead I slammed the test results on a hard desk, vibrating down to our legs.“I want a second opinion,” The doctor tried to reassure me that the test was valid, but I wasn't listening. No, I didn't want to listen. However, my denial began to crumble after taking three more pregnancy tests in three more hospitals, all of them screaming the same thing at me. After the final test, I walked out of the hospital. The consciousness of a small life growing inside of me overwhelmed everything, but what was more horrifying was that this child could have come from my and my foster brother's DNA. Then I remember my ex-husband, the note. We were supposed to meet up but I didn't show up. As much as I hated him right now, a par

Sandra's pov Last night was a mistake.A fluke in judgment, it was bound to happen. I wasn't made of bricks and I'd been drunk out of my mind, a lot of it was blurry in my mind and brought a curdle in my stomach. The smell of his cologne still lingered faintly on my sheets. My nose scrunched up with disgust. A faint warmth emanated from the sheets, it wasn't long since he left. There was a sink in my stomach when I saw the note stuck to my nightstand. It read; “Baby, I'm sorry about last night. I was drunk too, but I should have resisted, but…it's been so long, I was dying to run my fingers in your hair and bury myself in your scent. Baby, I'll be waiting at our spot two weeks from now. No pressure or anything. All I'm asking for is five minutes to explain myself. Please, Baby, I'm losing my mind without you.” I crushed the note into my palm, my heart throbbing against my ribs. What was there to explain? I wouldn't let him gaslight me. But…what if by some slim chance that may

Sandra's pov“Lucas!” I hated how my voice rang out with concern, betraying my concern. He'd lost his balance on the stairs and fallen to the bottom wrenching with pain. Before I knew it, my legs were running down, halfway through I took hold of myself. This man had betrayed me, there was no need for me to rush to his aid like this. His eyes, blurred behind the alcohol, rolled through my body. Big orbs of blue begging me to forgive him, but I couldn't. To think that only a week ago, we'd been on this staircase together. I was telling him that I was going to be on the cover for a certain magazine I'd been eyeing forever, and with his hands wrapped around my waist, he'd listened. Back then, I thought that we were going to be happy forever. Now I couldn't even stand to look at him. I made sure that the divorce was as messy as possible, plastering his betrayal for the world to see. Of course, I knew that my ex-husband was too powerful a man to fully collapse just because of t

Sandra's povI picked up my phone, 20 missed calls and 10 messages in the last half hour, my heart prickled and I tossed the phone on the bed. The door creaked open, and Margaret, my former foster mother, came through. It had been a week since Lucas showed me his true colors, I hadn't returned to our house, George had offered for me to come to his home and I was in no state of mind to refuse. Margaret brought two slices of chocolate cake, and I sighed softly as memories flooded my mind.“You remembered,” I said almost absent-mindedly, drawing invisible circles on the bed sheet. She came over wearing a tender expression.“How could I forget?” She sat next to me, “You always had an extra stomach for chocolate cake no matter how full you were, I was hoping that I could bribe you into eating something,” I stared at the homemade chocolate cake, then slowly stretched my hand forward to pick up one of them and bite into it ignoring the fork.“It tastes good,” I said, trying not to cry.

Sandra's pov The first picture was that of my husband, Lucas Hudson, CEO of Hudson's fashion line, holding the door open for another woman. Her long legs sticking out of the car, accentuated by nine-inch blood red heels. Time stopped, my phone felt unbearably hot against the flush of cold that brushed up from the tip of my fingers and spread across my entire body like a hot fever. There were more pictures, each one was like the slash of a poisoned dagger to my heart. I placed my weight on the king-size bed, the one I had shared with Lucas for the past 3 years, as I scrolled over to the last picture, which was him in the hotel lobby with that woman next to him. I recognized her, it was Olivia Rose, my self-proclaimed rival in the modeling biz. I might have even found her amusing if her copycat behavior wasn't so extreme. If I wore a shade of lipstick to work you can bet your bottom dollar that Olivia was going to scorch the ends of the earth looking for that exact shade and