As I lay there, naked, with his marks all over my body and a lingering warmth from our intimate encounter, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. However, that blissful state quickly shatters when I hear him say those cold, detached words.
Confusion and a growing unease settle within me, like a dark cloud looming over our shared intimacy.
I search his eyes, hoping to find a trace of the love and tenderness that have just enveloped us. But what I find instead is an icy distance, a void that sends a chill down my spine.
His words seem to cut through the air like shards of glass, slicing through the fragile bubble of hope that has momentarily surrounded us.
"I want a divorce." His voice rings out, devoid of any emotion.
The impact of his words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. My mind races, trying to comprehend what I have just heard.
Why is he saying this? Was it something I had done wrong? Did I fail to please him just now?
At that moment, I cling to the belief that his sudden coldness stems from my perceived failure to please him. The marks he left on my body now feel like cruel reminders of my inadequacy.
I wanted to explain to him that my performance had been affected by the pregnancy and that it wasn't a reflection of my love or desire for him. But before the words could escape my trembling lips, he silenced me with a dismissive wave.
His next revelation hits me like a thunderbolt.
"Megan has returned," he says.
The name Megan starts to echo in my ears, a haunting melody that shatters the remnants of my torn heart.
The ex-girlfriend he has carried within him, the lingering attachment that has always sparked my fears, has finally returned to reclaim him.
Shock and disbelief wash over me in waves. The weight of betrayal and heartache bore down upon my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
How could he discard the bond we had shared, so callously?
"And don’t forget about the terms in the contract," he reminds me. "It clearly states that we can end this marriage after a year if we don’t develop feelings for each other. You failed to win my heart, Vivian."
His mention of the contract twists the knife deeper into my heart.
I hoped, against all odds, that our love would transcend those constraints. But now, he declares the end of our marriage with harsh words, stating that I failed to make him fall for me within the stipulated time.
This is too cruel.
He turns around and continues, "So, I am ending this meaningless marriage and starting over with Megan. I will send the divorce agreement. Read it carefully before signing it."
Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I struggle to make sense of his words. The dreams I have cherished and the hopes I have clung to now lie in ruins around me.
The mention of Megan intensifies the ache, cruelly reminding me that I can never fill the void she left behind. I can never replace her in his heart. Even though I know this reality, a storm of emotions rages within me.
I felt the tenderness and affection emanating from him just moments ago, intertwined in our intimate connection. Were those feelings merely an illusion? Had I been blind to the truth, deceiving myself with false hopes?
Questions swirl in my mind, demanding answers that will never fully satisfy the ache in my heart. I yearn to confront him.
But before I could gather the strength to voice my doubts, his phone intruded upon our fragile moment.
I can see how his eyes sparkle when he looks at the phone.
He quickly answers the call. "Megan… Hey, what’s up?"
Megan, the name that shattered my dreams, called him at this hour.
I want to scream, ‘Why?’
His conversation with her unfolds before my ears, each word laced with gentleness and sweetness I never witnessed when he spoke to me. The contrast cuts deeper than any blade, a visceral reminder that I can never match her.
Pain surges within me, threatening to overflow as I realize that asking him any question will be futile. He will never understand my feelings.
The love I poured into this marriage, the hopes I nurtured, had all been in vain.
My heart aches, not only from the rejection but also from the realization that I lost the battle for his affection.
As I blink my tears away, I make a decision. I can't bear the thought of enduring further heartache and clinging to a love that has proven itself unattainable.
"Okay, okay… I am coming. Now calm down. Yes, yes. I will be right there."
He ends the call and slips the phone into his pocket, moving his gaze toward me.
"I am going to see Megan. Take your time to think. I hope you will understand the situation and agree with me."
With a heavy heart, I muster a smile. "What is there to think? We already know the terms. I am ready to end this marriage."
Suppressing my tears, I roll out of bed and put on my clothes one by one, slowly. My hands are shaking, but I try to act normally.
"You start your life with Megan, and I will also start anew. We will be happy in our lives."
It is a bittersweet acknowledgment that I fought my battles and lost. At that moment, I allow a glimmer of self-love to emerge, promising myself that I deserve more than a love that can't be fully reciprocated.
The pain lingers in my heart, an ache that will take time to heal. But I smile at him as I turn around and face him. I can see the surprise on his face.
Why will he be surprised?
Maybe I am still hoping that he will reconsider ending this marriage. Perhaps, I still want to hear him say that he likes me and that he wants to continue this marriage. But I know it is only my imagination.
He has already said that he is going to reconcile with his ex-girlfriend. Why will he say he likes me?
I continue to smile, though it feels hollow and fragile, as I affirm my decision.
His expression twists into a mask of anger. The reasons behind his sudden fury elude me, adding another layer of bewilderment to an already tumultuous situation.
"Are you sure?" he asks. "I mean… you don't have to respond right away. Take your time to think, and… then let me know whatever your decision is."
"I have already decided," I say, knowing he will not change his decision even if I ask him to forget about Megan and stay with me. So, there is no use in wasting time.
"I wish you a successful and happy life with Megan." I offer him a smile.
"I see…"
A dry, bitter laugh escapes his lips, further stinging my wounded heart. Without a word, he storms out of the room and forcefully closes the door behind him, the echo reverberating through the empty space.
The silence envelops me soon. Tears erupt, flowing freely down my cheeks. The ache in my heart feels unbearable.
My hand finds its way to my belly, cradling the precious life growing within.
"I am sorry, baby," I whisper to my unborn child, for the decisions I made in the midst of this chaos.
Although I know it is a bit selfish, I have decided to keep my pregnancy from George. With his power and influence, he will take my child away from him as soon as he learns about it. I have already lost him, but I can’t lose my baby.
It was a choice tinged with a touch of self-preservation, a desperate attempt to safeguard the only part of him.
In this silence, I let the tears flow freely, releasing the pent-up emotions. The path ahead of me is filled with uncertainty, but I’ll navigate it with a fierce determination to love my child with my all heart. I will not let anyone take my baby away.
A few months later…The narrator’s POV…The sun bathed the elegant garden in a soft, golden glow as George and Vivian stood beneath a pristine white gazebo, surrounded by a sea of vibrant flowers.The venue for their wedding was nothing short of breathtaking, with its lavish decorations and stunning floral arrangements that seemed to burst with color and life. It was as if the very earth itself was celebrating their union.Vivian, radiant in her ivory lace wedding gown, held a bouquet of exquisite roses in various shades of pink and white, their delicate fragrance filling the air. George, in his dashing black tuxedo, looked every bit the handsome groom, a broad smile gracing his lips.The gazebo was adorned with billowing white fabric, which fluttered gently in the warm breeze. Crystal chandeliers hung from above, casting a soft, enchanting glow over the entire scene. The aisle was strewn with rose petals, creating a path of delicate beauty for Vivian to walk down.As Vivian took her
In the meantime, Evan and Barbe enter. Their faces light up with a grin when they see me awake."Mommy!" The voices that reach my ears are filled with excitement and pure delight. They rush over to me.With open arms, I welcome them eagerly. The warmth of their tiny bodies envelops me, and tears of joy stream down my cheeks. Their presence is a balm to my soul, soothing away the lingering echoes of fear and pain. I hold them close, cherishing every moment of their embrace."My babies," I murmur, my voice quivering with emotion. "Mommy is here. Mommy is fine."Evan's eyes glisten with unshed tears as he speaks, his voice trembling with a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. "You scared us," he admits, his emotions raw and unfiltered. "Barbe has been crying a lot."I brush away their tears, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Shhh, my darlings. Mommy is fine. Look, I'm smiling. Give me your precious smiles."Their grins are like radiant sunshine, and I revel in the warmth of their lo
The guards had been looking for the man who sprayed the powder on the wedding gowns. They finally caught him and interrogated him, and he revealed that Michael had paid him to do that to frame me.He confessed everything to the police.I ordered the PR department to make a statement. Finally, the crisis in the company has been resolved, but Vivian is still unconscious.Thirty-six long hours have elapsed, and her continued unconsciousness gnaws at my very core. I sit by her bedside, my hand clutching hers as if it could coax her back to consciousness. I long for her to awaken, to see those beautiful eyes once again, to hear her voice, and to feel her presence fill the room.Evan and Barbe are worried as well. Tears stain their young faces as they grapple with the fear that their mother may never awaken. It breaks my heart to see them in such despair, and I pull them close, enveloping them in a desperate attempt to offer solace."Why is she not waking up?" Barbe's voice trembles as she
On the way, I receive a video message on my phone from the chief security officer. It is the video recorded on the pendant.As the video message unfolds on my phone's screen, I am drawn into a vortex of shocking revelations. The images and sounds contained within this digital tape serve as a bitter pill to swallow, awakening me to the harsh truth that I've been living a carefully crafted lie for years.My eyes widen in disbelief. The guilt and regret that surge within me is like a turbulent sea, threatening to overwhelm my senses.Vivian, the woman who has always been there for me and who has loved me unconditionally, emerges as the true heroine of that fateful kidnapping incident.I thought it was Megan who saved me from the kidnappers back then, but it was Vivian. Megan twisted the facts and acted as if she risked her life to save me. In reality, she ran away, leaving me in danger while Vivian fought back with the goons. She even partially lost her memory.Tears well up in my eyes,
My body twists and jerks in an attempt to evade the blows, but her strikes find their mark, the impact sending shockwaves of agony through me.Blood drips down my face. I cry out in pain and fear. Each blow feels like a stab of darkness, threatening to extinguish any hope of survival.Megan has gone crazy. She won’t stop until she kills me. But I don’t want to die, not like this, until I punish her. I need to tell George everything."George…" My voice is a raw scream of pain as I plead for George, hoping that somehow my cry will reach him and that he will come to my rescue.Everything is turning black. My eyes are getting closed. I feel a sense of lightness as if I am flying."Vivian…" His voice echoes in my ears, a lifeline that seems just out of reach. Is he truly here, or is he a mirage born from my desperation?The room blurs and the edges of my vision grow hazy as if reality is slipping through my fingers. My body is weakening with every passing minute. I feel like I am leaving t
All the scenes are playing as a recording in front of my eyes. I feel like I am reliving the terror of the past.The goons take us to an abandoned house on the hilltop. They throw us on the cold floor and close the door. The room we're trapped in feels like a desolate prison, cold and damp. The muffled sounds of the outside world barely penetrate the thick walls.George is still unconscious. His forehead is bleeding. I'm driven by a fierce determination to protect him. I tear my dress with my teeth and use the fabric as an impromptu bandage to staunch the bleeding. His vulnerability, lying there unconscious, tugs at my heartstrings.I glance around the room, my eyes landing on the meager comforts of a mattress and a blanket. Gently, I drag George over to the mattress, huddling close to him and pulling the blanket around us, seeking whatever warmth and reassurance it can provide.As the night wears on, George's condition worsens. His fever rises, and he trembles in his fitful sleep.In