Sarah’s POV
As I made my way downstairs to meet Richard, my nerves got the best of me like a teenager going on her first date. I never thought any man would see me like this ever but here I was about to stand in front of my husband like this. I wondered what he would see as I made my way into the living room where I could hear footsteps. I wondered what he would think of me, how he would react, and what the outcome of this whole thing would be.
Would things go south or would he find this whole thing endearing and pull me closer? “Welcome home honey, I made dinner,” I said, walking into the living room, my heart in my throat. Would he kick me out of his life because of this?
“Good evening, Mrs. Williams, I’m here to return the keys of the car.”
I shrieked at the same Desmond swore and covered his eyes, his cheeks red from embarrassment. “Why are you here? Where is Richard?” I asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I pulled the robe closer to my body, irritated that my efforts seemed to have gone to waste.
Desmond dropped his hands and I blanched at the look of pity in his eyes. Richard wasn’t coming “Mr. Williams asked me to drop off the car because he will not be coming home tonight.”
I nodded, forcing my brain to process the words. “That’s all right. I’m sure he has a lot of work to do.” Shaking my head, I turned on my heels trying to keep the tears at bay. This was so embarrassing. “You know where to leave the keys. Have a good night then,” I whispered and turned on my heels. Damn you Richard, I’m done trying to get your attention and your love.
“Ma’am?” he called and I sighed, ignoring him. “Ma’am should I help you clean up?” he asked and I stopped at the stairs staring at him. I almost cursed when I saw the meals sitting pretty on the plates. Was I supposed to throw all that away?
I shook my head and looked down at my outfit. Even if I was going to clean up, I had to change out of this thing. I sent Desmond a smile and raced up the stairs to change out of the lingerie. Thank God I had the good sense to wear the robe over it. My head hurt just thinking about Desmond seeing me in just the lingerie.
I stripped and quickly slipped into one of my rompers. Well, it was Richard’s loss if he didn’t get to taste all the deliciousness, I had prepared for him. Tears were threatening to fall but I refused to give in. I would die first before I let Richard make me shed a tear.
As I made my way back downstairs a few minutes later, I felt tears prick my eyes but I didn’t give in. The whole embarrassing scenario played in my head like a tape on repeat as I made my way to the kitchen to clean up. Was this what women went through to make men fall in love with them? Surely it wasn’t this hard?
I froze, at the dining room area frowning as I stared at the now freshly cleaned table. Where did all the food go? Hearing shuffling from the kitchen, I made my way there and paused at the doorway.
“You didn’t have to stay Desmond; I could have handled everything myself,” I announced my presence as I walked up to him. He was at the sink washing plates and I found myself gawking at those toned hands of his with his muscles clenching as he worked.
He turned to face me and I blushed when I saw the knowing smile on his face. I had been caught staring. “I wanted to help you, it’s the least I could do.” I frowned at his words wondering why he was saying that. It wasn’t like he had anything to do with Richard not coming home tonight.
“I will be leaving now,” he said pulling me out of my thoughts and I looked up to see him walking away empty-handed. With a raised brow, I walked towards the freezer. There was no way I would let him leave this house without something to take home, especially after helping me out with the cleaning.
“Why won’t you take anything?” I asked as I brought out one of the bowls of rice he had packed. I reached for two other bowls containing salad and plantains and then I closed the freezer.
I turned at the same time he stood behind me and we bumped into each other. I flushed; my cheeks red as I reached for one of the paper nylon bags on the counter. I had so many after buying so much groceries for tonight. “I can’t let you leave without taking anything.” I stepped back to pack the food, all the while aware of his eyes on me. “Here you go, eat that for dinner or breakfast but take it.”
He smiled and opened his mouth to speak but I gave him a look. “Thank you, Mrs. Williams. Have a good night.” I nodded and stood there watching him walk away, thoughts of how wrong the night had ended running through my mind.
That should have been Richard and I; all those moments in here should have been between Richard and me. I groaned loudly and walked out of the kitchen stomping my foot to the living room.
Tears pricked my eyes again but I held them back, dialing my mother’s number as I took a seat on the arm of the chair. It rang a few times and then went straight to voicemail. I tossed the phone on the chair in anger and fell on the chair, angrily punching the chair. “I hate you so much, Richard.” I groaned as I let the tears roll down my cheeks.
Richard pov.The weeks that followed were like a dream, the kind of dream I never wanted to wake up from. Sarah’s recovery was nothing short of miraculous. She was her old self again—strong, radiant, and filled with the kind of joy that seemed to light up any room she entered. And our daughter? She was growing so fast, already wrapping us—and everyone else—in her tiny fingers. But the best part of it all? We were finally preparing for our wedding. Sarah wanted something small and intimate, just us and our closest family and friends. She’d always talked about having a garden wedding, surrounded by nature, with the sun setting in the background. And that’s exactly what we were going to do. The morning was a flurry of activity. Zoe was in charge of decorations, barking orders at Martins, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Martins, the flowers go on the left,” Zoe said, hands on her hips. “They look fine where they are,” Martins shot back, holding up a bouquet of
Richard pov.Weeks passed. Life felt like a blur of hospital visits, endless updates from doctors, and quiet moments spent in Sarah’s room. I was there every day, holding her hand, speaking softly to her, willing her to wake up. Zoe and Martins tried their best to keep things light whenever they visited, cracking jokes or telling stories, but even they couldn’t hide their worry. The NICU had become another constant in my life. Our daughter was thriving despite her premature birth, a tiny fighter who seemed determined to make it through. I’d visit her every evening after sitting with Sarah, watching her tiny chest rise and fall under the glow of the incubator’s lights. She was the only glimmer of hope in an otherwise dark time. “Hey, little one,” I whispered one night, my hand resting on the incubator. “Your mom’s going to wake up soon. She has to. She wouldn’t leave us like this.” It was a quiet morning when the miracle happened. I was sitting in Sarah’s room, flipping through
Richard pov.The morning of the trial felt heavy. I left the hospital earlier than usual, making sure Zoe would stay with Sarah. Despite the overwhelming dread, there was a part of me that felt strangely numb, as if my emotions had run dry after weeks of worry and anger. Martins met me outside the courthouse, impeccably dressed in his usual sharp suit. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, his touch grounding. “Today’s a big step forward,” he said. “Remember, this trial is about getting justice, not reopening wounds. You’re here to see Susan held accountable, not to punish yourself for her actions.”I nodded, though his words didn’t settle the unease churning in my gut. The courtroom was cold, and even though I’d prepared myself for this moment, seeing Susan seated across the room made my stomach twist. She didn’t look like someone riddled with guilt; she looked indifferent, like this was just another ordinary day. The prosecution opened with a detailed timeline of events, recou
Richard pov.The call from the police came just after dawn, jarring me awake in the cold, uncomfortable chair next to Sarah’s hospital bed. I fumbled with my phone, heart pounding as I stepped into the hallway to answer.“We’ve located Susan,” the officer said. “She’s in custody. We’d like you to come down to the station.”My grip tightened around the phone. The relief I felt was fleeting, quickly replaced by anger. “I’ll be there,” I said, my voice low.Zoe appeared beside me as I hung up. She had been sitting with Sarah through the night, taking turns with Martins to ensure I wasn’t alone. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but her concern for Sarah mirrored my own.“Was that about Susan?” she asked.I nodded. “They’ve got her. I’m heading to the station.”“I’m coming with you,” she said firmly.“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Stay here. I need someone I trust to be with Sarah.”She hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. But keep me updated.”When I arrived at the police station, Martin
Richard pov.The cold, sterile environment of the police station did nothing to settle the unease that had been gnawing at me since Sarah’s fall. Sitting across from Isabelle in the small interrogation room only amplified it. She looked different—disheveled, almost feral—but her eyes still held that same unhinged intensity I remembered from before. Martins sat beside me, arms crossed, his body language radiating skepticism and disgust. The officer standing by the door had warned us to keep the conversation civil, but I wasn’t here to trade pleasantries. “Why, Isabelle?” My voice was steady, but my hands clenched into fists under the table. “Why did you hurt Sarah?” She tilted her head, a slow, deliberate movement that made my skin crawl. Then, she smiled—a twisted, almost childlike grin. “She wanted to take you from me,” she said, her tone eerily calm. I blinked, the sheer absurdity of her words momentarily robbing me of speech. “Take me from you? Isabelle, how many times
Richard pov.Morning came soon. The soft hum of the machines in Sarah’s room provided a false sense of calm, but every beep reminded me she was hanging on by a thread. My chest felt heavy with every passing second, waiting for her to open her eyes, to tell me everything would be okay. Zoe and Martins stayed close, their presence quiet but steady. Zoe would occasionally bring coffee or attempt to distract me with updates on the baby, but my focus stayed on Sarah.Martins had taken over the logistics—coordinating with hospital staff, keeping everyone updated, and ensuring the security team outside wasn’t slacking. It was just after 7 a.m. when my phone buzzed in my pocket, the vibration snapping me out of my daze. I saw the caller ID and immediately stepped out of the room to take the call. “This better be good,” I snapped, my voice low but sharp. “Mr. Wright,” a familiar voice responded—it was Derek, head of my security team. “We’ve apprehended Isabelle.” The words didn’t re