Sarah P.O.V
Life isn't as simple as a fairytale; it has its lighter and darker shades. I used to believe that everything would always have a happy ending. Maybe it was because I was too naïve growing up, but I always thought my life would be like a fairy tale, or at least I hoped it would get better one day.
My mom, Sophia, passed away when I was just 5, and a few years later, my father, Neil Darrell, started dating Lisa. Soon, Lisa and her daughter Chloe moved into our house. In the beginning, Lisa was kind to me, but as soon as she married my father, she began showing her true, darker side. Chloe and I were the same age, but Lisa made sure that Chloe received all the attention from both her and my dad.
After a few months, I noticed how Dad started to ignore me as he got caught up in his "perfect" new family. Over time, I became just an extra, unwanted family member that no one cared about.
My only happy place was with my maternal grandparents, who lived in Italy. We made sure to visit each other whenever we could. Besides my grandparents, I loved only two other people in the world as much as my family—my childhood best friends, Jessica Martin and Adrian Parker. The three of us were inseparable until Adrian moved to a boarding school in London.
Jessica and I stayed close and kept in touch with Adrian every weekend. However, as soon as I started high school, Jessica began to ignore me, preferring to hang out with Chloe instead. Soon, they became best friends, and even Adrian stopped replying to my messages and calls.
As time passed, everyone around me seemed to compare me to Chloe or other girls. Lisa constantly insulted my looks and clothes and made sure others treated me the same way. Even my dad started to see me as a disgrace. I tolerated all the insults, abuse, and mistreatment, but eventually, I realized that enduring it only made them stronger.
As little girls, we're often told stories of distressed damsels who need saving. But as I grew older, I realized I didn't need a Prince Charming to save me.
The only person capable of saving me was myself. I needed to become a strong, independent woman and stand up for myself. I had to overcome my obstacles and fight my own battles.
I was clear about my future and goals by the time I finished high school. I worked hard to get into a top university, and my efforts paid off when I was accepted into Harvard with a full scholarship. Moving to Boston from New York was a whole new experience for me. It was the first time I was escaping the hell of my family and my old life. In Boston, no one judged me for my clothes or looks—people wanted to be my friend because of who I was.
University life opened up new experiences for me; it helped me discover the real me. I balanced my studies during the day with a part-time job in the evenings to manage my expenses.
Five years later, I now hold a dual master's degree in engineering and an MBA. Tomorrow, I'll be leaving Boston and returning to NYC after almost five years. During this time, neither my family nor Jessica or Adrian tried to contact me. My grandfather offered financial support, but I barely touched it.
As I packed my belongings and prepared for the airport, I tied my hair into a ponytail and examined my reflection in the mirror. My brown hair now cascaded down to my waist; I used to prefer short hair until high school. My round face was almost bare, with minimal makeup. My glasses were gone, and my hazel eyes, framed by thick lashes, were perfectly coated with mascara.
Before coming to Boston, I had little knowledge of makeup, but after moving here, I learned to groom myself well. My roommate, Ester Caswell, supported me through these five years; she's the sister I never had. When I initially moved here, I was pale and thin, mainly because I hardly got anything to eat at home—most of the food was leftovers.
Throughout my university days, I focused on my studies, career, and health. Standing at 5'6", I'm neither too fat nor too thin. Although I'm still a bit insecure about my body, according to Ester, I have curves in all the right places.
Ester is visiting her parents for a week, and she'll be moving to NYC soon as well. After taking one last look in the mirror, I grabbed my belongings and called a cab. Soon, I was on my way to the airport, hoping that everything would go well.
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Little did I know, this journey back to NYC was going to turn my life upside down.
Sarah POVOne year laterIt’s strange how a single year can hold a lifetime of change. Sometimes, once I pause in the quiet of early mornings—before Gabriel’s little feet patter down the hallway, earlier than Elias stirs in his crib, earlier than Alessandro pulls me into his heat, I am surprised at how special existence looks now. In few years in the past, the whole thing still felt fragile, as though happiness may slip through my arms if I dared to preserve it too tightly. But now… now our household breathes with laughter, with the chaos of toys scattered throughout the floor, with the heady scent of Elias’s infant lotion and Gabriel’s crayons, with the mild hum of a family built not just from love but from resilience.I’ve long passed again to paintings, easing into the rhythm of designs and cut-off dates once more, whilst Alessandro insists on coping with the mornings with the boys adore it’s his preferred journey. And within the middle of all of it, I locate myself smiling extra w
Sarah POVThe drive home from Ester and Noah’s house had been a glowing blur of headlights, laughter hanging around me like perfume. The warmth of their place, and of people around it who loved them, stayed with me long after we had left and were walking out into the coolness of the night.My cheeks hurt from grinning at Gabriel’s attempts to play the part of Amelia’s self-appointed protector while simultaneously ordering Elias about as if he were a pint-size parent.Even now, as Alessandro unlocked our house door, Gabriel leaned heavily against his leg, fighting the sleep he swore he didn’t need. His little fists rubbed at his eyes while Elias babbled against my shoulder, moments away from collapsing into dreams."It seems that our soldier is tired," Alessandro grumbled, brushing Gabriel's hair back with our hand, as soon as we entered. His voice pushed forward the rage that he reserved for these quiet moments, when no one else could see softening in it."I no tired," Gabriel became
Sarah POVThat evening, the house looked different. Not in any extraordinary way. Ester did not have time or energy for that, but there were very few touches everywhere that made it feel special.Some strands of fairy lighting fixtures glow, and small vases of clean lilies make the desk look grimy. The recent fragrance of ripe bread and roasted chicken from Noah fills the air. It wasn't a grand competition, but it didn't want to be.It became a circle of relatives. It turned into love.Amelia was out like a calm in her little bassinet through the couch, snuggled up in this smooth, faded purple blanket, respiration all slow and consistent, definitely unfazed by the chaos, snuggled up in this soft, faded pink blanket, breathing all slow and steady, totally unfazed by the chaos. The room?Loud as hell.Laughter popping off everywhere, people drifting in, Alessandro was joking around, a few of Noah’s buddies, and even Ester’s cousin, wrangling her kids.Somehow, none of it touched Amelia.
Sarah POVThe air at Ester and Noah’s home felt softer that day, touched with something holy, something fragile. Man, the whole place just felt... alive, you know? Like something electric had buzzed into the walls. That weird mix of warm milk, lavender soap, and this sugary hint, yeah, it just hung around, dragging me right back to Gabriel’s first days.Ester was camped out on the couch, looking absolutely wiped but also kinda radiant in this new-mom way. Pride and exhaustion are a wild combo, honestly. Noah wouldn’t budge from her side; he kept fussing like the air itself might bruise her or their little girl if he let up for even a second.Meanwhile, Alessandro was parked next to me, holding Elias. The look on his face? Pure awe. You hardly ever catch him looking that soft, honestly. He couldn’t take his eyes off the baby in Ester’s arms, staring like it was something straight-up magical, like if he blinked, he’d miss the whole damn thing.Meanwhile, Gabriel, my Gabriel, was practic
Sarah POVThe late afternoon used to pass through the wide windows of the Ester and Noah's townhouse, which spread gold to the polished floorboard. The whole place was lukewarm with a calm, curious expectancy. Even though I spent the last two nights with the esters in the hospital, supporting her through her labor, at the moment, to bring my child home, felt heavy with meaning.A new heartbeat has joined our circle.I adjusted Gabriel on my hip as he squirmed, restless with excitement. He is almost two years old, he was full of energy and curiosity, his curls bouncing as he looked around. Beside me, Alessandro balanced Elias effortlessly in his arms. Elias had just crossed four months, plump and sleepy, his round cheeks squished against Alessandro’s chest.“You’re bouncing him too much,” I whispered with a laugh, nodding toward Elias.“He’s going to think your arms are more comfortable than his crib.” I suggested“Maybe they are. Besides, if I put him down, I think Gabriel might storm
Sarah POVThe apartment had settled into a quiet rhythm on Sunday evening. The kind of silence that follows a long, joyful couple of days. Alessandro was back from his business trip, having left Europe and flown all the way home to Minnesota. After reconnecting and catching up at home, much laughter, much whispering, swooning over the spaces in between stolen kisses, I was enveloped in a love-fueled fatigue.I have asked Ester to move in here until the baby's delivery, since it is not good for her to be alone when Noah is away at work. Here at least, I can be here to take care of her.Gabriel slept well, his small hands collided with his chest, gently breathing, I could hear it on the baby monitor fitted in the second room. Elias was simply lost and started fifty-two, even though they broke each other with stories. Alessandro couldn’t help but go all-in—crazy voices, wild hand gestures, the whole nine yards. Honestly, he looked ridiculous, but the man he was laughing at Elias so har