George’s POV…
Vivian’s response annoys me. I cannot believe that she readily agrees to end this marriage. She didn’t ask me a question. She didn’t even cry.
"Ugh…" I slam my fist on the steering wheel. "Why am I thinking about her? It’s good she agrees to the divorce readily."
As I continue driving, I cannot stop recalling the time we have shared over the year.
Our marriage indeed held its share of beautiful moments. Vivian had been a devoted wife, tending to my needs both inside and outside the bedroom. If it weren't for Megan's sudden return, I might have considered continuing this contract for another year.
But Vivian's rapid acceptance of the divorce catches me off guard. Instead of the expected sadness or a hint of hesitation, her readiness to part ways seems almost eager. It is as if she has been counting down the days, waiting for me to bring up the topic so she can swiftly sign the papers. The thought gnaws at me, igniting a spark of frustration within.
The scene of our intimate moments still lingers in the back of my mind. Those moments are hot, and I remember her enjoying my company.
Why did she moan so loudly if she was eager to distance herself from me? How could she enjoy my touch? How could she revel in the pleasure of our physical connection?
It seems contradictory, leaving me puzzled and disenchanted.
I suddenly remember why she agreed to this contract marriage. Vivian confided in me at the time about her crush on someone, who didn’t want her, and her desire to use this marriage as a means to move on and forget that man.
I can't help but wonder if that man still holds space in her heart and if she has merely seen me as a tool to escape her unrequited love.
Despite my own initiation of the contract marriage and my subsequent request for its termination, a simmering annoyance takes hold of me.
How could she readily agree to move on? Am I simply a stepping stone on her path to finding the love she truly desires?
The weight of this realization bore down on me, casting shadows of doubt and resentment.
"I don’t care," I mutter. "She is free to date anyone she likes. It makes no difference to me. I am going to have a better life than her with Megan."
If Vivian has already set her sights on a future without me, then I have no reason to carry the burden of guilt. I am entitled to pursue my own happiness, unshackled by the weight of a marriage that has seemingly lost its purpose.
With a determined resolve, I propel my car forward, the engine roaring in tandem with my racing thoughts.
Megan's place beckons, promising a familiar solace that I have long yearned for. The allure of rekindling the flame with her intensifies, fueling my desire to leave behind the complexities of this crumbling marriage and embrace the familiarity of what once was.
I finally arrived at Megan’s apartment. I press the doorbell.
After some time, Megan opens the door. She looks sexy, draped in nothing but a towel. A sense of familiarity mixed with desire engulfs me. She flashes an alluring smile. Her eyes, filled with a mix of longing and regret, meet mine.
"George…" She envelops me in an embrace. "I've missed you. I apologize for calling you here at such a late hour, all while knowing the presence of your legal wife waiting at home."
Her face falls as she pulls back and looks at me. "You are not angry with me, are you?" She bites her bottom lip.
As soon as she mentioned my wife, Vivian's swift agreement to the divorce echoed in my mind, intensifying my annoyance and stirring a flicker of defiance within me.
"Megan, I... I've missed you too."
Seeking solace in this reunion, I press my lips against hers with fervor, a desperate attempt to convince myself that I no longer care for Vivian.
She responds with equal fervor, her kisses mirroring her unrestrained desire. Yet, despite Megan's bold attempts to seduce me, I can't help but notice the absence of the same fiery passion that ignited within me when I kissed Vivian.
Something is amiss, and I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why I don’t feel the same fire with the woman I love. I even don’t know why I am still thinking about Vivian, my contract wife, at this moment when I am with Megan, the love of my life.
How can this be possible?
I stop kissing and pass my fingers through my hair, not able to look into her eyes.
Megan holds my shoulders and asks, "What happened? Why did you stop?"
I can clearly hear the disappointment in her tone.
"Are you not feeling well?" She stretches her hand and puts it on my forehead.
"I am okay, Megan," I say, pushing her hand away gently and walking aside. "I… it’s late, and I am tired."
"I know. I shouldn’t have bothered you so late at night." She sighs and comes in closer, taking my hands in hers. "But I couldn’t wait to see you." Her eyes are watery. "I love you, George. I love you so much." She hugs me as she confesses her feelings for me.
I instinctively wrap my arms around her.
"I'm sorry for leaving you a year ago," she murmurs. "I was foolish and selfish, choosing my career over us. I let you marry another woman to fulfill your sick grandmother's wish."
Her words tug at a chord in my heart, stirring a mix of emotions within me. As I gaze into her eyes, a part of me wants to surrender to the allure of starting anew and embracing a future with Megan. Yet, the lingering question remains: Why can’t I forget about Vivian? What is happening to me?
Megan's gaze pleads with me, her eyes shimmering with unspoken desire. "Is it too late, George? Have you fallen for Vivian? Please tell me there is still a chance for us. Marry me if you haven't fallen in love with Vivian."
Caught in the midst of conflicting emotions, my mind races to find clarity. I can't deny the connection I once shared with Megan, yet I am unsure of how to respond.
Why did Vivian’s face appear in front of my eyes?
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