Love, Law, and Remarrying

Ding!

Sheryl Moran had just arrived at the parking lot when her phone chimed with a new message. She reflexively tapped it open, and a single line of text popped up.

"Don't take Riverpoint Road. It's dangerous!"

It came from an unknown number with no name attached.

Riverpoint Road was the fastest and most direct route from her house to Moran Art Gallery.

Sheryl frowned, confused. She assumed it was a misdirected message or just spam, so she ignored it. She got into the driver's seat and started the car.

Evening rush hour had passed, so traffic was smooth. As she waited for the green light at an intersection, another notification lit up her screen.

She glanced over. It was the same number again, but a new message.

"8:30 PM, chain collision on Riverpoint Road. Don't go."

Sheryl was a little stunned. She frowned. It was eight twenty three. Once the light turned green, the next turn would take her straight to Riverpoint Road.

Suddenly, her phone rang. It was her assistant, Jonah Rivers.

Snapping out of her daze, she picked up and answered, "Hello?"

"Sheryl, you forgot the watch you bought for Mr. Simrod."

She blinked. Today marked her and Brandon Simrod's third wedding anniversary. They'd already planned how they'd celebrate, but three days ago, he had been called away on a last-minute business trip.

She had bought the watch a few days earlier and kept it tucked away in her desk drawer so she wouldn't forget.

Yet, she had still forgotten it. The moment Brandon had called to say he was back, she'd rushed out with just her phone and coat.

Thankfully, Jonah had a habit of tidying up the office before she left for the day.

"I'll come back and grab it now."

After ending the call, she looked at the mysterious text again. A few seconds passed before a honking car behind her jolted her back. The light had turned green. She tossed the phone aside and did a U-turn, heading back toward the gallery.

When she arrived, Jonah was already waiting by the entrance with the watch in her hand.

Sheryl took it with a smile. "Thanks."

-

On the way back, she saw one, then two, then three ambulances racing down the road, flanked by several police cars and traffic units. The sound of sirens filled the night.

'What's going on?'

A wave of unease washed over her. She tightened her grip on the wheel.

At the next intersection, a traffic officer stopped her. "There's been a chain collision on Riverpoint Road. The road's closed."

'Chain collision?'

Sheryl's heartbeat quickened as her thoughts returned to the messages she had brushed off as a prank.

The officer said something else, but she couldn't register a single word. The chill of late autumn wind swept into the car, but she didn't feel cold at all. She was sweating.

The adrenaline rush of a near miss hit her hard, making her heart pound as reality sank in.

The officer was gone.

Suddenly recalling the messages, she pulled over, picked up her phone, and quickly typed.

"Who are you? How did you know there would be a chain collision on Riverpoint Road?"

She hit send, only to get a system reply.

"Message failed to send."

Frowning, she tried again. She got the same result. She tapped the number to call it instead.

There was no ringing, only an error message.

"Call failed."

'What's going on?'

She could neither send messages nor make a call to this number. Sheryl frowned in confusion. Before she could think further, Brandon's name popped up on her screen.

"Sheryl, how much longer till you're home?"

His voice on the other end was deep and soothing. He could always help her get rid of all her worries.

"There was an accident on Riverpoint Road. I have to take a detour."

His voice instantly turned anxious. "An accident? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

Sheryl smiled. "I'm fine. I'll be home soon."

Still worried, Brandon insisted on a few more warnings before finally hanging up.

She pushed the mysterious messages to the back of her mind and started the car again. This time, she took a different route home.

By the time she arrived, the kitchen was already filled with the scent of warm, savory dishes. While she changed her shoes, Brandon stepped forward in an apron.

He wore a white shirt and black slacks. He was tall, with striking features, and golden-rimmed glasses, behind which showed a look of concern.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?"

Sheryl smiled, spun in a circle, and reassured him. "I'm fine. The cops blocked the road before I could even get close."

Brandon gave her a once-over and finally sighed in relief. "Good. I couldn't even continue cooking after our call."

"You didn't have to cook, though. We could've just gone out. You've been on a plane for hours. You should rest."

She noticed he hadn't even changed clothes yet. She pursed her lips and looked at him affectionately.

Brandon smiled. "I'm not tired. I got plenty of rest on the flight. Besides, today's our anniversary. I couldn't take you to Velmira for the Nevet exhibition like we planned, so at least let me make you your favorite dishes."

In Sheryl's eyes, Brandon was everything anyone could dream of. Not only was he born into wealth, but he was also tall, handsome, gentle, thoughtful, romantic, and deeply devoted. He didn't smoke or drink, had a calm temperament, cooked, and cared deeply for her.

They had been in a relationship for three years, and married for another three. He always put her first.

Even with a housekeeper, he often took the time to cook for her himself. He did so many things that were completely beneath someone of his status, yet he never minded.

She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her face to his chest, and closed her eyes.

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked.

Brandon chuckled before rubbing the back of her head affectionately. "You're my wife. Who else would I be good to?"

They stayed like that for a long moment until he finally kissed her temple and said gently, "I left the stove on. Go upstairs and change. Wash up. Are you hungry? Just two more dishes and we can eat."

Sheryl nodded and headed up.

Brandon was romantic to his core. Every anniversary, he found new ways to surprise her. This year may have come with a twist, but the surprise still arrived.

When she came back down, the table was already set with candles, flowers, and a diamond necklace.

Brandon fastened it around her neck himself. He smiled gently. "I knew this would suit you the moment I saw it, and I was right."

Sheryl thanked him and gave him the watch she had picked out. "I think this suits you too."

"Thank you, Honey. I like anything that's from you."

He pulled her into his arms, ready to commemorate their sweet night with a kiss, until Sheryl stopped him.

"My period started."

"Didn't you say that wasn't for another week?"

Sheryl looked up. "I'm always on time. Off by a day or two, tops."

Brandon froze before burying his face in her neck and laughed. "Must've been the wine. It totally messed up my memory."

Sheryl didn't think much of it. She truly believed he'd just gotten confused.

It wasn't until three days later that the number, which had gone silent since the crash, messaged her again.

"Kingston Hotel, 9 PM tonight, Room 1408. Brandon Simrod and Vivian Niger."