Chapter 5 : Things going left

"Mr. Wood headed directly to Brindle’s hotel room when he had the chance. 'Hey, baby,' Brindle greeted when she opened the door, and Mr. Wood stepped inside, questioning her angrily, 'What were you trying to do back there?'"

"Brindle folded her hands in front of Mr. Wood and responded, 'I was just having some fun.' 'Fun? You call that humiliation fun?' Mr. Wood replied, stepping away. 'I did make some sense in some way,' Brindle continued. 'She needs to hear this sooner or later because the day is approaching fast. You’re going to present the divorce on her award night, right there in everyone's face on the 24th.'"

"What? Are you crazy?" Mr. Wood walked back to her. "I can’t do that, Brindle. Not in front of everybody, especially on her big day. She has worked so hard for whatever blessings are coming her way."

"No, I gave you exactly two weeks to end everything with her, and unfortunately, the two weeks end on her big day."Yes, Richard, I am mad, crazy in love," Brindle said angrily, her hand gestures echoing her passionate tone. "You can call me anything. What do you expect from someone who wants to be with his love after so many years of separation? I want to be with you, Richard. I want to wake up every day seeing you beside me, to have you as the first person I see when I wake up."

"I understand, Brindle. I want the same, but not at the expense of someone else's happiness. I can't do this to Natalie, especially after everything she's done for me. Please, try to understand."

I don’t think you do, it either you choose us or her, Brindle said and slammed the door and left the room angrily leaving Mr. Wood all alone in the room with his frustration...............

"His frustrations built up like steam in a kettle, and Mr. Wood, overwhelmed, let out a loud, guttural shout, an attempt to unload some of the strain. The echoes of his cries ricocheted around the room. It was an emotional outburst, an attempt to alleviate the pressure that had accumulated within him, a brief moment of liberation from the storm raging inside. But as the echo waned, the overwhelming silence of his dilemma prevailed."

"Overwhelmed, Mr. Wood slumped to the floor, feeling utterly torn. On one side, there's the woman who shaped me into who I am today, the person to whom I owe everything. On the other, there's the love of my life, someone I've cherished since I was eight. What do I do now?" It was a decision that tore him apart, leaving him stranded in an abyss of conflict. All he could do was cradle his head in his hands and weep, the weight of his indecision bearing down on him with unbearable force."

As the anniversary retreat neared its end, each passing day felt like fleeting moments slipping away through their fingers. They sought solace in the beauty around them, trying to savor every last drop of their escape. The sunsets became more bittersweet, the walks by the beach more nostalgic, and the time spent together more precious. They knew the real world was calling, signaling the end of their private paradise. Yet, amidst the looming return, they sought comfort in the memories they'd created and the love they'd rekindled. The final day approached, a mixture of reluctance to leave and quiet anticipation for what awaited them back home.

Days flew away faster, and their two-week anniversary getaway came to an end, The grandeur of their home welcomed them back, yet the urgency of the impending event was palpable. Immediately they entered their three-story mansion, Mrs. Wood's fashion designers were already waiting for her to try out some of the designer clothes they'd sorted out for her. The designers, each armed with meticulously curated outfits, awaited Mrs. Wood's return. The expansive spaces of their mansion felt alive with the hustle and bustle of preparations. The atelier was set, showcasing an array of designs, from the elegant to the avant-garde, all aimed at making the night unforgettable for Mrs. Wood. There was a buzz of excitement as the team was eager to present their creations. The air was thick with anticipation and a sense of celebration.

The weight of his decision pressed upon him as his wife glowed in each meticulously crafted ensemble. Her joy mingled with his apprehension. The air in the room felt thick with the conflict raging within him. He remained silent, each passing moment only cementing his agony. His gaze followed her as she swirled in exquisite gowns and stunning designs, each one a testament to the talent that had propelled her to this prestigious honor. The imminent act he was about to commit gnawed at him, but he felt entwined by the inescapable fate that lay ahead.

Richard, overwhelmed with guilt and emotional turmoil, sat quietly when his phone beeped. Opening W******p, he was met with a photo of Brindle's baby bump and a chilling message: "If you want to see us alive, do what we say. In just two days, we are going to be one big family – you, me, and our unborn baby boy who can't wait to see you."

The gravity of the situation hit him like a tidal wave, and he clutched the phone to his chest, tears streaming down his face. After a moment, a determination overcame him, and he stood up, wiping away the tears. "I need to do what's right for all of us," he whispered to himself as he walked out of the room.

Upon exiting the room, his wife beckoned him to join her. "Hey, come help me write my vote of thanks for Saturday," she exclaimed with a warm smile. Richard, with no other option, obliged and approached her. She sat on the sofa behind the dining table, presenting the notepad with her draft. Mr. Wood accepted the pad, holding it in silence for what seemed like an eternity—50 seconds of profound stillness. "It's all about you, Richy," his wife proclaimed, looking up at him. "I want the world to see how grateful you’ve been in my life and how you’re the reason I am where I am," she continued, her smile radiating joy. Mr. Wood, still speechless, stood there, a solitary tear escaping his eye. He composed himself, ensuring his wife remained oblivious to his internal turmoil, and finally said, "Here, this is good." Handing back the pad, he excused himself, stating, "I need to check on something at the office," and walked away. With each step, silent tears fell from his eyes, tracing a poignant path down his cheeks to the floor.