Vanessa harboured a stunning secret-she was born into a powerful family and was an heiress of a renowned company. Yet, her distant husband divorced her without ever learning her true identity. She endured mistreatment from his family and his mistress, leaving her devastated. Five years later, she resurfaced at an auction, flaunting her newfound status and accompanied by a child who bore a striking resemblance to her ex-husband. With her return, she exacted revenge on those who had wronged her. Her reappearance shocked everyone, and to her satisfaction, her ex-husband, Michael, began to regret his actions. Determined to win back both his child and Vanessa, he swore to reclaim her from his business rival, Matthew, who was now involved with Vanessa.
View MoreAs I walked out of the hospital, a smile appeared on my lips, yeah! My own lips. It seemed unreal. I could still hear the doctor's words echoing in my thoughts, which proved that indeed, I'm pregnant. I looked at the report one more time, my mouth tightening to contain the screams of excitement that were rising within me.
Since I got married; for the past four years, my marriage with Michael has been devoid of any affection. Perhaps this news would bring our marriage back to love. Michael may finally relate to me differently now that I'm pregnant.
"Michael! With excitement, I chirped as I walked towards him in the sitting room, a bright smile spreading across my lips. He was quite early; I had not anticipated seeing him at home at this hour.
My heart thrummed with an erratic rhythm and my steps came to a halt when I saw the unimpressed and stony look on his face. I knew something was wrong. His anger had to have sprung from work-related stress.
Pulling a smile back on my face, I mumbled, "Lo
"----Here. We're getting a divorce, Vanessa.." He stated coldly, handing me a copy of a sparkling white sheet with the prominent inscription 'DIVORCE' printed on it.
His eyes were cold, indifferent, making my heart crumble like a wrinkled paper. I couldn't bring myself to believe what I had just heard. Each breath I took felt like a dagger poking my chest. His statement was as clear as a crystal, but I still have trouble understanding him.
Narrowing my eyes, I inquired, "Wh-what's this, Michael?"
"Don't tell me you don't understand what those papers are for? Must I spell it out for you to understand?!" Michael spat with disdain, his cold piercing gaze sending shivers down my spine.
His words resonated like a bell, striking a chord in my mind that sent shockwaves through my entire body.
I stood there, fixed in one spot, my eyes widening like saucers as a mixture of shock and confusion flashed across my face.
As I snatched the papers from him, I scanned the content with my eyes and realized that he had scribbled his signature at the end, leaving a blank space for mine.
"Divorce papers?" I questioned, trying my best to maintain my cool as I shifted my gaze from the paper to his emotionless emerald eyes.
He brought out a pen from his pocket and tossed it to me.
"Sign the divorce papers and let's put this behind us. Hurry up with it before Vivian returns!" He emphasized, his words dripping like acid, dropping like a bombshell.
My jaw dropped and my heart skipped a beat as the weight of the moment sank in.
Is he leaving me for Vivian? After everything 1 have done for him?
I could feel my lips quivering, my mind going blank, the sting in my eyes made tears welled up as it clouded my vision.
My voice drifted away as I barely let out "W-why, Michael? What have I done to deserve this?..." my voice ended up betraying me as it trailed off, the pain gnawed at my heart and the only words echoing in my head was to shout with a high pitched tone. My ragged voice rang out, frustration-filled, fueled by the feeling of betrayal "For months, I've strived to be a perfect wife. I sacrificed other opportunities for my own benefit because of you and the responsibilities of being your wife,
"I adapted to be the ideal daughter-in-law for your parents, meeting your standards and doing everything I could to make both you and your family happy. And after giving up all my aspirations to please you, what do I end up with? Only divorce!"
I voiced out in emotions, staring at him in disbelief as tears streamed down my face, silent and unrelenting.
Michael was unmoved. Not a single word I uttered melted his heart. Instead, he spat icily, "Vanessa, I need to be honest-I've never loved you. My late grandfather considered you the perfect match for me because you once saved him, and that's the only reason we married. I can't continue in this loveless relationship. How much longer should I keep you in my life?
"Vivian has always been my true love, but she had to leave for her studies in Australia. Now that she's returned, you are free to leave. I have no intention of continuing this marriage." My knees gave way, and I collapsed onto the ground. I had planned to surprise him with the news of my pregnancy, never anticipating that he would deliver sudden news about our divorce.
Despite our initial marriage being arranged by Mr. Gerald, his late grandfather, I had grown to love him deeply. Even though he never acknowledged or showed any affection towards me, my love for him transformed him.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself to say, "You used me as a naïve pawn in your games, and now that you've succeeded, you think it's time to discard me."
"What f**g games, Vanessa?! You can't expect me to keep you forever. Forget those vows I made on the altar.. They're nothing but failed promises. I've never loved you, so you're never going to win my heart!"
He spat, his voice piercing through my heart, confirming my worst fears. The room grew silent, the tension palpable as his icy words hung in the surrounding air.
"But Michael, I am pre-"
His phone abruptly beeped to notify him of an incoming call, interrupting me in the middle of my sentence. He picked it immediately, a smile tugging his lips.
"Are you at the airport, Vivian?" He asked soothingly, his voice conveying a different tone from what he had used on me earlier.
"I'll come to pick you right away... Wait for me, okay.."
Stating that last word, he ended the call and slipped the phone gently into his pocket before returning his gaze to me.
"Sign this and leave before I get back.. I do not want to see you here-"
He said coldly, his callous words void of emotions, clawing out my heart.
Through teary-blurred eyes, I watched him swagger past me before banging the door behind him, his footsteps growing fuzzier.
My eyes fell on the report in my hands, which had now had spots of tears on it. Holding my tummy, I collapsed to the ground, the sounds of my choked sobs echoing in the emptiness.
After some hours of sulking, the news on the TV finally got my attention.
BREAKING NEWS: CEO Michael Michaelson and highly sought-after model Vivian Daves were spotted together at the Marina hotel in Brazzaville. There are rumors that these long-term lovers are great together and that a reconciliation is possible. What's your take on this?
I could hear my heart shatter at the mention of their love story on the internet. It's no surprise that the news would revolve around them, since they were two renowned personalities. My gaze shifted from the pregnancy report in my hand to the divorce papers in my other hand. My entire world has crashed completely.
Every day I look forward to Michael coming home, longing for the nights to pass. I made meals for him throughout that day, but he never returned home after our conversation.
However, I was startled by the sound of the door opening. I believed it was Michael, so I stopped what I was doing in the room to greet him. To my astonishment, it was a blonde haired woman with artificial eyelashes and crimson lips. Her perfume wafted through her refined, exquisite outfit that accentuated her curves.
Her heels clattered on the white tiles as she noisily chewed gum. She nodded as she gazed at the room's intricacies with a satisfied expression on her face. When her gaze settled on me, contempt clouded her features, and she shot me a scathing look
"I believed Michael had thrown you out of his home. You bitch, why are you still here?" She scowled at me, her voice rising an octave higher.
"I haven't signed the papers yet. I am still Michael's wife."
"Oh. Let's see who the real wife is when I walk up to your room and throw out all of your filthy belongings! I wonder what he was thinking when he made someone like you to be his wife!"
"You wouldn't dare do that!" I shot back, fighting back the tears that threatened to flow while maintaining my composure.
She sneered at me. "You're quite brave and dumb as well. I'll teach you some lessons." Stating that last word, she walked past me and bumped my shoulders in hers, causing me to stagger, but luckily, I could maintain my balance.
My eyes widened when I saw her enter my bedroom and take all of my clothing out of the cabinet before hurling them out the window.
"Stop it! Vivian! You might have won Michael's heart, but that doesn't give you the right to disrespect me!!!"
I yelled as I walked up to her, my face turning a deep shade of red. She turned to face me with a smug smile on her face.
"Oh, you need some respect? Let's see if I will ever give that to a bitch like you!" she spat before pushing me to the ground and just then I felt throbs of pain all over my body. The sight of blood on my thighs made my eyes bulge.
When Vivian heard footsteps, she collapsed to the ground and pretended to be in pain.
"What is it?! What Is going on?!" Michael Inquired after showing up, his eyes flicking at the two of us. He looked at Vivian with concern, then at me with disdain. He ran to her and gave her a quick stroke in the hair before helping her to her feet.
"Michael, get her out of here! She almost killed me! She pushed me to the ground and now she's acting like I hurt her. I don't want to see her again-who knows what else she might do to me?!" Vivian cried to Michael, who tried to calm her down. Her accusations pierced my heart deeply, but I was too focused on the blood on my thighs.
"How could you hurt Vivian like that?! Who knows what else you might have done if I hadn't stepped in? I told you to leave-what are you still doing here?!"
Michael probed, flicking daggers at me.
Gritting his teeth, he bellowed, "Guards! Take her out of here, contact the maids, and instruct them to retrieve her items right away!"
While the maids scurried into my room to retrieve my possessions, two guards rushed towards me and dragged me with them. I could see my blood trickling down my thighs and it hurts that my child could be in danger because of Vivian.
Epilogue.Few Years LaterThe morning light spills through the kitchen window, soft as a sigh, painting the countertops in hues of apricot and gold. I’m barefoot, as always, the cool tiles grounding me as I pour coffee into two mismatched mugs, one chipped from a clumsy moment years ago, the other a gift from Kelvin, painted with lopsided stars. The house smells of cinnamon and fresh laundry, a quiet symphony of the life we’ve built.Kelvin, bounds down the stairs, his guitar slung over his shoulder like a faithful companion. He’s taller than me now, his curls wilder, his grin still carrying that spark of mischief. “Mom, I’m late for band practice!” he calls, snatching an apple from the bowl.“Shoes!” I call back, pointing to the sneakers abandoned by the door.He groans but complies, tossing me a lopsided smile. “Love you, Mom. Tell Dad I’ll be back for dinner!”The door slams behind him, and the house settles into its familiar hum. I glance at the wall, where a new photo has joined
POV: Emerald The party was already in full swing when I stepped onto the patio.Laughter rose like music—soft, unforced, genuine. It curled into the air like incense, mingling with the scent of grilled meat and lemon verbena from the garden hedge. Golden string lights floated overhead like captured stars, their glow brushing every face with warmth. The long table was brimming with things I didn’t have to make—platters of roasted vegetables, herb-stuffed chicken, three kinds of cake. Flowers I hadn’t arranged bloomed from vases like joy in full color. And people... people I once couldn’t imagine being this much a part of my healing, now lived like branches in the tree of my peace.I stepped further out, my dress brushing against my ankles, barefoot on the warm stone. It didn’t feel like just another summer evening. It felt like the answer to a prayer I didn’t even know how to form ten years ago.A flash of movement—tiny sneakers and loud giggles.Kelvin tore across the patio, a crooke
POV: Emerald The vineyard was quiet, wrapped in lavender dusk.Golden vines stretched over rolling hills, catching the late sun in their folds. There were no camera flashes, no screaming guests, no lavish spectacle. Just rows of chairs on soft grass, white petals scattered by the breeze, and a soft violin playing in the distance.It was perfect.Because it was Matthew.I arrived just before the ceremony began. Sat near the back. No attention drawn, just a quiet nod from a few familiar faces. Michael sat beside me, his fingers interlaced with mine. Kelvin, restless in his small suit, perched between us, legs swinging.Matthew hadn’t seen me yet.But when he stepped out beneath the old wooden arch, his eyes searched the crowd. And when they landed on mine, something passed between us—a breath, a memory, a farewell.He smiled.Not the smile he used to wear when he was trying to be enough.But one that said: I am.His bride, Elodie, wore a dress that floated. Her smile was a soft sunrise
POV: Emerald It came in a plain white envelope.No return address.Just my name, written in a hand I hadn’t seen in years—angular, careful, familiar in the way something poisonous becomes when you’ve survived it.I didn’t open it at first.I placed it on my desk, beside my planner and the vase of peonies Michael brought me from the market. For three days, I let it sit there. I’d glance at it sometimes, in between meetings or on my way to bed, and each time I’d think: Not today.Until one morning, when the city was still soft with fog, and the house was quiet except for the hum of the espresso machine, I picked it up.I carried it to the balcony.I sat.And I opened it.—Emerald,I know I am the last person you ever expected—or wanted—to hear from. And that’s why I waited. Until the noise quieted. Until the headlines changed. Until your peace had room to breathe.But I write now because truth, even late, is still a kind of debt we owe.I was cruel to you.At first, it was jealousy. N
POV: Emerald Tuscany wasn’t part of the original plan.But after three days in the cabin, tucked beneath pines and wrapped in quiet, Michael looked at me over morning tea and said, “What if we let the next chapter write itself somewhere warm?”And I said yes.So we packed light, left our phones on airplane mode, and landed in Florence with no itinerary, just each other and a journal filled with places we might want to see.Our villa sat on a hillside, wrapped in vines, framed by olive trees that swayed like they had been whispering secrets to the wind for centuries. The air smelled like earth and lemon blossoms, and the sky each morning opened like a soft invitation.We weren’t tourists. We were two people reclaiming time.—We made love that first night with the windows open. Slow. Reverent. No rush. The kind of closeness that makes you forget you were ever afraid of being seen.He kissed the inside of my wrist like it held history.I whispered his name like a prayer.We didn’t need
POV: Emerald The celebration carried on behind us—music, laughter, clinking glasses, the sound of heels against marble and the occasional roar of Kelvin’s giggle as he danced like the floor belonged to him.But we slipped away.Michael and I.Through the side doors of the conservatory, past the hedges where the roses were just beginning to close for the night, and into the garden lit by nothing but moonlight and strings of soft, amber bulbs.I kicked off my heels halfway down the stone path.He reached for my hand without a word.And we walked until the music felt like a dream in another room.There was a bench beneath the big elm tree—our tree. The one we’d sat beneath when we toured the venue months ago and knew, somehow, it would hold a part of our story.He sat first. I curled beside him, knees tucked, my head on his shoulder.The stars were everywhere.And for a moment, we just breathed.No speeches.No vows.No eyes on us.Just stillness.“I didn’t think I’d make it here,” I sa
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