Sarah’s POV
“What did you say?” I asked staring at the man sitting across from me. Too many things had happened today and I was still trying to make sense of them. This, whatever this was, I couldn’t take it and I had taken so much already. I glared at a drunk Richard, hugging another woman’s waist in our living room, and crossed my hands over my chest.
“We are going to bed and you are going to get out of the way.” He made a move to push me out of the way and staggered, falling sideways. I stretched my hand out to help him but he pushed my hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he glared at me and I took a step back feeling like I had been slapped.
I stepped to the side and watched as he led the woman whom he had brought home, whose name I still didn’t know up the stairs. I blinked back tears and stood there for a few minutes trying to get rid of the huge lump in my throat. Never in my life had I felt so hurt and insulted. I had never loved anyone else in my entire life and Joshua Jones in the fifth grade didn’t count. Richard was my first love and ever since I set my eyes on him on my first day as a new student at Crosland Middle School, I couldn’t look at anyone else the same way.
Was it so hard to love me back? Every day he seemed to find new ways to make fun of my love for him and drag my feelings tor him through the mud. I deserved better than such a life of constant humiliation from the one person that should treat me with absolute respect.
The sound of their laughter pulled me out of my thoughts and I decided to follow them. Perhaps if I talked him out of it, he’d ask the woman to leave. I paused at the door of the room and gaped at the picture the two of them made, sprawled in our bed, moaning as their mouths moved together. Tears rolled them eyes and I didn’t stop them because this time I don’t think I would have been able to even if I tried. I stood for a few more minutes and bolted when one by one their clothes began to hit the floor. I don’t know why I didn’t leave that environment entirely or why I felt it was good idea to hang around but I just couldn’t move. I sat on the floor instead and rested my back against the wall. The sounds of their moans reached me and I whimpered feeling like knives were being driven through my heart.
Even if he didn’t feel the same way I felt, he had no right to play with my emotions like this. Was she the reason he didn’t see me the way a husband saw his wife? Was she the reason he never came home and instead worked till dawn? Who was she and why was she so different from me?
I don’t remember how it happened or when but I must have fallen asleep because I was suddenly rudely awoken when I felt chilly. Why was it so chilly? I blinked and forced my eyes to make sense of my environment.
“Oh good, you’re awake. How can you be sleeping in so late? Don’t you get paid to do a job?”
I frowned and managed to get up, my body aching from spending the night on the cold hard tiles. “Who are you?” I asked rubbing my eyes.
“Who am I?” she repeated as if one of us had a hearing problem and chuckled as if she had cracked a joke. “That’s none of your concern. You should just focus on getting your job done. Now, go fix me some soup, I have a nasty hangover. Don’t forget Richard too.” She called and then before I had a chance to react, skipped off into the room and slammed the door behind her.
“Am I still dreaming?” I asked myself, trying to make sense of what just happened.
***
Turns out everything had been real and she hadn’t been kidding about me making her and Richard soup to cure their hangovers. She had suddenly barged into my room a few minutes ago, approximately an hour after she had ordered me to make her soup as if I was a maid she had hired on a payroll.
“You must really not understand the specifications of your job in this house,”
I ignored her and chose to scroll through my mails instead. After the marriage, I had been made to leave my job and be a stay-home wife because that was the kind of wife Richard needed. Of course, at the time, I had no choice but to go along with it. Now, here I was two years later suffering the consequences of foolishness and stupidity. “Why are you in my room?”
She closed the distance between us and pointed her – in my opinion, way too long – press on nails in my face. “Do not try to be disrespectful to me, the consequences will be too much for you to handle.”
“It’s funny but if I remember clearly, this is my house. You should watch it,” I told her and she took a step back obviously shocked I had talked back to her.
“Susan, where are you?” We both turned at the sound of Richard’s voice and my heart rate picked at the sight of his bare chest. I had never seen him like this, not even in high school.
I looked away before he caught me staring and crossed my hands over my chest. “Take your whore and get out of my room, Richard.”
Susan turned at the insult, her eyes burning with anger. “How dare you?” she shrieked and stretched out her hand to hit me but I caught it just in time. “How dare you?!”
“You should leave my room before I do something I might regret. “ I gritted my teeth, shooting daggers at the two of them with my eyes.
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