Isabel’s POV
Facing the fear of death for the first time, I found myself clinging to the hope that my husband could be my anchor. I remembered our early days together. The joy and love that had filled our lives. Emerson had been my everything. My knight in shining armor. The memories now felt like distant dreams. He wasn’t here for me in my darkest moments.
I spent a few more days in the hospital, under the watchful eye of a team of doctors and nurses. When they finally told me I could leave, I took a long shower in the sterile bathroom. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize myself.
My once bright blue eyes were now dull and tired, shadowed by sleepless nights and endless tears. My long blonde hair hung lifelessly around my face, lacking its usual shine.
I glanced down at my belly, still a bit swollen from the baby I once carried. The slight curve was a painful reminder of the life that had been growing inside me. A life that was now gone. I gently touched my stomach, feeling the emptiness echo through my entire being.
My cheeks were pale. My skin looked almost translucent under the harsh bathroom light. The lines of worry and grief had etched themselves deeply around my mouth and eyes, making me look much older than 25. It looked like I had aged 10 years in the past week.
The maternity dress that I had come into the hospital with hung loosely on my frame. I leaned in closer to the mirror, searching for any sign of the vibrant, hopeful person I once was. But all I saw was a broken woman, hurt by betrayal and loss. Tears welled up in my eyes. I took a deep breath.
As I wiped away the tears, I reminded myself that I had to keep going. The battle was far from over. I needed to find the resilience within to face whatever came next.
My best friend, Emma, came to pick me up from the hospital. She has been my rock since high school, always by my side through thick and thin. She's got this striking red hair that matches her fiery personality. Her green eyes are always filled with a spark. I felt so relieved when I saw her at the hospital parking lot.
“Oh, Em,” I sobbed as she ran up to me. She held me in her arms for a long time while I cried my eyes out. As she drove me to her place in her small red car, I told her everything.
Her eyes were filled with concern and anger as she listened to my story. “How dare him!” she cursed, her voice trembling with rage. “How could they do this to you, Isa? You don't deserve any of this!”
Emma had just broken up with her boyfriend. She discovered that he had an affair. Her own heartbreak only fueled her empathy for my situation.
“I totally get how you feel, Isa,” she said, her voice softening. “But you can’t let him get away with this. You have rights, and you need to defend them.”
Her words struck a chord with me. Emma was right. My father would be worried sick if he knew how miserable my life had become. He had always been my protector. But now, he was in a vegetative state. He had a car accident a few months back, caused by a competitor who ruined his company. The thought of my father lying helpless in a hospital bed brought fresh tears to my eyes.
I told Emma about my father's condition, the overwhelming medical expenses, and my fear of losing him.
“You have to fight for what's yours, Isabel,” Emma urged. “Think about your father. He needs you to be strong. You deserve a fair share of everything you and Emerson built together. Demand that he helps you find a good doctor for your father. His family has connections in the medical field. Use that to your advantage.”
Emma's encouragement gave me a newfound sense of determination. I decided to give Emerson one last chance. After arriving at Emma’s quaint apartment, I picked up the phone and called him. The sound of a baby's cry in the background made my heart ache. Emerson was busy comforting Lilith and their newborn.
“Emerson,” I said, my voice trembling, “Are you choosing Lilith over me? Do you really want a divorce?”
His reply was curt and impatient. “Isabel, I'm busy right now. Can we discuss this later?”
The coldness in his voice shattered the last glimmer of hope I had. “Fine,” I said, swallowing my pride.
“I agree to the divorce. But only if you help me find a famous doctor for my father. Your family has the resources. It’s the least you can do.”Emerson seemed taken aback by my sudden shift in attitude. “Isabel, this isn’t a game. Are you trying to manipulate me?”
“I’m not playing any tricks,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I just want to make sure my father gets the care he needs. If you can't do that, then our marriage is truly over.”
After a long pause, Emerson’s voice turned cold. “We’ll get a divorce, but I won’t help your father. That’s your problem, not mine.”
His words were like a slap in the face. I felt my heart breaking all over again, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Alright, Emerson. Let's meet tomorrow to sign the divorce papers.”
We agreed on a time and place. I hung up the phone, feeling utterly defeated. Emma wrapped her arms around me, offering what little comfort she could. “You’ll get through this, Isabel. You’re stronger than you think.”
The next day, I prepared myself for the divorce registration. As I was about to leave, my phone rang. It was the hospital. The doctor's voice was urgent. “Isabel, your father's condition has taken a sharp turn for the worse. You need to come immediately.”
Isabel’s POVDays passed, stretching into an unspoken eternity, and Emerson’s condition could no longer be kept from Liam and Elena.One afternoon, I was sitting by Emerson’s bed, my hand gently brushing his, when the door to the hospital room creaked open. My heart skipped a beat."Liam, Elena, what are you doing here?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. I hadn’t expected them today, and the sight of their small faces brought a surge of overwhelming love and guilt.Eric stood behind them, his expression apologetic, his eyes soft with understanding. “They begged me, Isabel. They wouldn’t stop asking to see him... I couldn’t say no anymore.”Liam’s face was drawn, his usual bright energy dimmed with concern. Elena clung to her brother, her eyes wide with fear as they both hesitated in the doorway.Before I could say anything else, another figure appeared behind them, stepping into the room. My heart stopped for a moment as I looked up to see Emerson’s mother, Estelle, walking towards
Isabel’s POVA month had passed. One whole month, and still, no sign of life from Emerson. The machines beside his bed beeped steadily. A monotonous rhythm that I had come to know too well. A rhythm that seemed to mock the stillness of his body. I sat by his side every day, watching him, praying for some miracle—some sign that he was still there, still fighting. But each time I whispered his name, there was nothing. Nothing but the soft hum of hospital machinery.“Emerson,” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my attempts to sound steady. “Don’t you want to be with me? If you wake up, I promise we can live happily as a family of four.”I meant it, every word of it. The thought of a future with him, of raising our children together, was the only thing that kept me going. I needed him to hear me. I needed him to wake up.But Emerson remained unresponsive.He looked like a prince charming, trapped in an eternal dream—strangely peaceful. I combed his dark hair back neatly after gently
Isabel’s POVThe world blurred—shouts, chaos, the metallic scent of blood thick in my nostrils. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I clung to Emerson, his labored breaths hot against my skin.I didn’t dare move. The slick warmth of his blood drenching me was unnerving. His chest rose and fell in erratic, shallow breaths. But then, amid the cacophony of battle, a stunned silence emerged. Orders were shouted. Weapons clicked into position. Something had changed. I forced myself to glance up from Emerson’s chest, my pulse hammering.Alistair stood frozen, his face contorted in pain. Blood dripped from his hand—the very hand that had been pointing a gun at me just seconds before. His grip slackened, and the weapon tumbled to the ground.A sniper.Alistair’s men immediately scattered, taking defensive positions, frantically searching the area. But before they could react, several of them suddenly dropped to the ground.They were convulsing violently, frothing at the mouth. One by one, the
Isabel’s POVMy wrists ached from the tight ropes binding my hands behind my back as I was shoved forward. The rough ground beneath my boots felt unsteady, my knees weak with exhaustion. The air smelled of blood, gunpowder, and sweat. The night was still alive with distant gunfire, but here, in the heart of the enemy’s grasp, there was only the sound of my ragged breathing and Alistair’s mocking laughter.“Stop resisting, Emerson,” he drawled, his voice filled with smug amusement. “You’re in over your head. Oh—look who finally decided to join us.”Emerson was holding back several opponents, bruised and bloodied from the fight. His head snapped up at Alistair’s words.He turned, and when his eyes landed on me, something in his face shifted. Shock, then rage, then a devastating kind of fear. He lunged forward, but a guard was faster. A rifle butt slammed into Emerson’s ribs. The sickening crack echoed in the night, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air."Emerson!" I screamed,
Isabel’s POVAt first, Emerson and I managed to escape the building, slipping into the shadows like ghosts. The night was thick around us, swallowing our hurried footsteps as we navigated through the wreckage of Alistair’s camp. The distant gunfire and shouts of battle echoed behind us. But just as we reached the edge of the compound, the world seemed to shift.From the darkness, figures emerged—silent and predatory, their weapons gleaming under the pale moonlight. They moved like shadows given form, their presence an unspoken promise of violence. My breath caught in my throat as a dozen, no, more than two dozen enemies surrounded us, blocking every escape route. The sheer hatred in their eyes sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. These weren’t just guards; they were fanatics, men who thrived in the chaos of bloodshed and terror.Emerson moved instinctively, stepping in front of me, gun raised. “Stay close,” he murmured, barely audible over the wind. I nodded, steadying my grip
Sebastian/Elias’ POVScarlet’s scream echoed through the dimly lit room, raw with disbelief and fury. “You’re lying!” she spat, her eyes blazing with denial. The restraints binding her wrists rattled as she struggled, but I didn’t move to stop her. There was no point—her fight wasn’t with me. It was with the truth.I let out a slow breath, pulling a small, timeworn pocket watch from my coat. The silver casing had dulled over the years, but the engraved initials remained clear. I clicked it open and held it out to her, revealing a faded family photograph inside.“My father gave this to me before he died,” I said evenly, my voice softer than before. “He cared about you, Scarlet. No matter what you believe, you were never forgotten.”Her breath hitched. For a moment, the fire in her eyes flickered, replaced by something rawer—uncertainty. “How could it be?” she murmured, barely more than a whisper.All the pieces had finally clicked into place as Scarlet unraveled her story. The tangled