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 POVThe first thing I remember after the blur of hard work is the sound. Not the chaos of moved quickly footsteps, no longer Alessandro’s steady, grounding voice urging me thru every contraction, no longer even the ragged cries torn from my personal throat, however hers.A small, fragile cry that appeared too sensitive to pierce the air, and yet it did, slicing via the haze of ache and exhaustion with a clarity that rooted itself into my heart. The room, the nurses, the machines, it all fell away till there was handiest that sound, after which the weight of her in opposition to my chest.A daughter.Our daughter.The phrases tumbled through my mind, as if pronouncing them silently might by hook or by crook make them greater actual. I bear in mind the warmth of her tiny frame, damp with start, pressed against my skin, the way her fists clenched and unclenched like she become already accomplishing for the world.My world.Hours later, the frenzy of the transport room is lengthy go
Sarah POVThe world tilted and blurred in a hurry of mild and movement the instant Alessandro scooped me into his fingers. His grip turned into firm, nearly fierce, as even though he should protect me from the hurricane tearing through my body. I should see the stress in his jaw, the muscle there flexing tight with determination.His lips brushed in opposition to my hairline, and his voice got here low and constant, an anchor cutting through the haze of ache.“Hold on, amore. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”Another contraction ripped through me, sharper and deeper than the last, tightening across my stomach like iron bands. A strangled cry escaped my throat, and instinctively I clutched at his shoulder, my nails biting into the material of his shirt.He didn’t recoil, he did his best and held me nearer, his stride brief and functional as he carried me down the steps.The hallway stretched before us, but all I could consciousness on have been the 2 small figures frozen at the bottom of th
Sarah POVFew months LaterThe morning light spread across the curtains, warm and gold coloring all it touched with a soft gleam. From the kitchen, the air carried a faint smell of fresh coffee mixing with the clean linen scent of the sheets.I moved against the pillows set behind me, a hand falling upon the round curve of my belly. The baby stirred beneath my touch, a flutter that told me someone was there.Sometimes I could not believe this was my life. For years, I lived in fear. My body held unseen bruises as it held scars no one else saw. Mornings such as this felt impossible, like something for other people. But here, in this house, surrounded by safety, laughter along with love, I felt as if life had been written anew for me, every page inked in second chances.Alessandro had been near all morning fretting over whether I should get out of bed.His protective side.Before he could swoop in, a smaller figure darted forward. With a serious look on his three-year-old face, went to
Sarah POVTwo yearsIt’s odd how those words feel impossibly long yet painfully short at the same time. It's been two years of our marraige, since Alessandro and I stood together, with our hearts shaking but steady, and promised forever. At that time, forever felt so fragile, Something I dreaded was life breaking apart as it had so many times previously. And now we sit here every day laughing, with our boys turning our lives in a fairy tale. When I woke up that morning, I felt a small but heavy weight of Gabriel on us, and his hand was wrapped around Alesandro's shirt, which he was clutch as he always used to do when he used to enter bed at night. Across the room, Elias slept well in his cradle, her little chest rises and falls completely, with a little sound of breath in the cool.I then looked at Alesandro because he lay there, and my heart melted because he was resting in sleep, holding some morning light with the right masculine dark stubble on his jaw. Even after everything we h
Sarah POVI was walking into the golden warmth of the afternoon with two sons at my side. Gabriel, tall, strong, his short fingers tightly inserted around Alessandro's hand, although this is his greatest comfort. Elias, round and bright, mumbled happily against my shoulder, his small palm patted my collarbone like a stable drum. I am not alive anymore. I am living, breathing. Laugh. I am surrounded by love that no longer scares me.And today, we are celebrating another miracle: Amelia is turning one today.It seems impossible, almost untrue.In my mind, I can still hear the voice of Ester from that day a year ago, still trembling with tiredness. The moment I saw Amelia's small face, pink and perfect, I knew that it was a thread that would make us all even more keen. I remember Gabriel had leaned carefully over the cot, his expression fierce with determination as he whispered, “My baby.” Elias had only been a few months old then, squealing in his stroller as though announcing his app
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