Sarah's POV

“Aren't you getting off miss?.” The driver cut me off from my thought immediately. I shaked my head twice to return to my right senses and the moment I touched my cheeks gently, I realized tears had started dropping down from them.

I was just so lost in thought that I had forgotten that the car had stopped already. “Oh yeah.” I exclaimed.

“Sorry for the interruption,” the driver apologized, his eyes darting to the rear-view mirror as I opened the door.

The night air was a cold slap to my tear-stained cheeks, snapping me back to the present. I stepped out of the car while my legs felt as unsteady as my heart.

“No need to apologize,” I muttered as I handed over the fare and turned away before the driver could catch another glimpse of my distress.

“Over here ma'am.” The security guard’s deep voice jolted me out of my daze, beckoning me towards the open front door. I followed his gesture towards the exposed entrance, the inside of the hotel was visible through the clear glass panels.

“Thanks,” I muttered, managing a small smile as the guard helped me carry my luggage through the heavy doors.

The reception area was majestic, its beauty and style coming from the pretty furniture, shiny lights, and marble floor. As I approached the receptionist, a tall, immaculately dressed man with a friendly smile, I took a deep breath, attempting to put on a brave face despite the turmoil I felt inside. “Welcome ma'am.” He uttered and I nodded my head twice and forced another smile.

“For how long would you be staying?.” He questioned and let out another warm smile. The receptionist's smile was contagious, and I couldn't help but reciprocate his warmth, despite the storm raging inside me.

"A week should be enough," I replied, though I knew I couldn't stay much longer, as I had plans to move on. Richard had made it clear where I stood in his life: nowhere. His actions had left me feeling devalued and disrespected. Martin’s words rang in my mind, urging me to seize control of my life. I had no ties to hold me back, no loyalty to maintain.

My reverie was interrupted as the receptionist returned, her smile never wavering. “Here you go, ma’am,” He said.

“Huh?”

“Your keys.” He added, handling me the keys to my room as he let out another warm smile. This time, Yet this time, the smile felt almost forced, as though it was nothing more than a veneer of hospitality.

With a nod of thanks, I took the keys and began to make my way towards the elevator. As I walked, I tried to shake off the unease that had settled over me.

The moment I got into my room, I heard my phone ring out abruptly. I quickly answered, bracing myself for the conversation to come. “Hey mom.” I uttered while I kept my phone 1 inch away from my ear. I knew If I told mom about my divorce with Richard, she would scream the hell out, so I was very prepared this moment.

“Hey, Sarah! How did it go? Any news?” Mom’s eager voice came through the line, her excitement palpable even through the phone. My heart sank, and I inhaled deeply, steeling myself. “Mom, I need to tell you something,” I said while my voice began to quiver slightly.

For so long, Mom had been my rock, my pillar of support. In my darkest moments with Richard, she'd been the one to pick me up, dust me off, and urge me to stay strong. But now, as I stood on the precipice of shattering her expectations, I felt my knees begin to buckle.

How could I explain that my loyalty and goodness hadn't been enough? That despite my best efforts, Richard had left me in the cold? That I felt worthless, alone, and unable to hold onto the life I once knew?

“Go on baby, did it go well?” She questioned once again.

Mom’s voice on the other end of the line was all it took to trigger the dam of emotions that had been building inside of me. I tried to speak, to find the words to explain, but my throat felt like it was being clenched in an invisible fist. The cruel words and deeds of Richard echoed in my mind, and I felt myself drowning in the misery of it all.

“Mom,” I choked out, my voice barely audible over the lump in my throat. "It's Richard...we...we got a divorce.”

“What?, how is this possible and how could you not inform me about these Sarah. No!. It wouldn't just end this way!” Mum's outraged words slammed into me like a freight train, compounding the guilt and shame that already weighed so heavily on my heart. Before I could even formulate a response, the line went dead.

I stood there, alone in my hotel room, the echoes of Mum's disapproval ringing in my ears. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I sank to the floor, cradling my head in my hands. I felt like a failure, unable to keep my marriage afloat or even keep my mother's approval.

Sarah's POV

“You really shouldn't have agreed to sign the divorce Sarah, I'm so disappointed right now.” Mom uttered as she began to pace around the hotel room.

I sat still in the bed while my gaze was fixed right on the floor. Somehow, I was beginning to regret agreeing to Richard's divorce. But still, I needed my own happiness. Was I the only one to endure this pain. “I'm so sorry mom, I just had to, I need to be happy once again mom. I really need to find my own happiness and depart from Richard. I can't endure everything anylonger.” I responded. My voice had began to crack a little and I felt my palms were already sweety.

Mom took her gaze aside for a few seconds and then darted them back to me. “You're right baby, I think it time you find what really makes you happy rather than spending the rest of your life with that coward.” As soon as I heard her words, my frown turned into a broad smile immediately. I felt a gentle touch on my hands and it made to look up instantly. Mom sat next to me and squeezed my hands tightly. “I just want the best for you honey. Whatever decision you make, just know that I'm always here to support you.” She added.

As she spoke, I felt a tear drop from my eyes down to my cheeks. “Don't you dare cry Sarah, you shouldn't okay?. Stay strong for me.” Mom uttered while she look her hand up to my cheeks and began to wipe my tears away. I sniffed a little and then drew closer to her and embraced her tightly. It was almost like she had pass through the same situation with my dad. He had never treated her like the wife be claimed she was to him. At age seven, I was only entitled to just one parent because dad had left mom and I alone.

There was mum, always crying all night. At age ten, I got the chance to have another dad. It was like everything I had everything dreamt of. He showered me with so much love but after a few years, we lost him to the ruthless hands of death. Every since my stepdad’s death, mum vowed never to get married anymore. She felt she was destined to be a single mother and there we have it, I was raised with love and attention just by a single parent.

“I'll be leaving for Madrid in a week.” I said while I broke away from our embrace. Mom arched her brows surprised by my quick decision. “So fast?” She responded. “Yeah!. I think it's the right time I got a new job and live peacefully. I feel Madrid is just the best place.” I declared.

Mom inhaled and exhaled a deep breath and then rubbed my head gently. “If that's what you think is the best for you, then go foe it honey.” She finally said. With a warm smile I drew closer and embraced her once again.

*

I sat straight up in my bed and rubbed my eyes gently to clear away the last traces of sleep. Mom had left the hotel for London a few hours earlier. With a loud yawn, I climbed out of the bed and headed straight for the refrigerator where I poured in a bottled water into a glass cup and gulped down everything.

The moment I was filled up, I sigh a bit and then paced my eyes around the hotel room for a few seconds. “I guess it's right time you got your life back together.” I murmured almost to myself. As walked down to the center table and grabbed the menu, I began to paced my eyes around the menu for a short while. I just couldn't decide on what to eat. As my gaze frozed at a boldly written word, roasted turkey. A smirk creeped at the left corner of my lips instantly.

Without hesitation, I reached out for the telephone placed on one of the cupboards and quick dialled the number that was written on the menu. “Hello ma'am, what can I help you with.” I heard a lady's voice from the other line. “I'd love to get the roasted turkey.” I responded.

With that, I ended the phone call immediately and lay back on my bed. Within a few hours, I held a gentle knock on the door. “You delivery.” The lady uttered from the other side. With a deep breath, I rose to my feet quickly and walked straight to the door. As soon as I opened the door halfway, the lady smiled broadly.

“Come in.” I declared and opened the door the rest of the way. The attendant pulled in the food cart and stepped inside as well. “Thank you.” I utter and she nodded her head in affirmation. Without another word, she walked out of the room instantly.

As I settled down with my dinner, flipping through the channels, the television brought with it a fresh wave of heartbreak. Like a punch to the gut, I was hit with the sight of Richard and Susan, their smiling faces beaming from the screen. My jaw dropped in shock and a solitary tear slid down my cheek as the reporter revealed the truth: Richard and Susan were now an official couple, and to celebrate, Richard had gifted her with a brand new BMW. The stinging salt of betrayal seared my skin as the reporter read out the final words: "Richard Wright announces his divorce from Sarah Williams.”

With annoyance, I switched of the television and threw the remote on the couch instantly, my raw anger and grief spilling out in a burst of frustration. I squeezed the bedspread tight, while my knuckles turned white with rage. “Why?” I whispered to the empty room, my heartache clouding my mind.

I laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling while tears began to blur my vision. The dinner remained untouched and my appetite long gone. In the stillness of the night, I let my tears flow, trying to wash away the pain.

RICHARD’S POV.

I leaned back in my chair, letting the smooth jazz from the speakers fill the room. We sat in the bar lounge in the mansion.

Martins sat across from me, swirling his wine like he always did when he was about to say something serious.

I could see that look in his eyes—the one that said he was about to dig into things I didn’t want to talk about.

“You know,” he started, his voice low, “sometimes I feel pity for her. Sarah didn’t deserve all that.”

“Pity?” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, harsh and cold. “For her?” I shook my head, taking a long sip of my own wine.

The taste was bitter on my tongue, but it matched the mood. “I don’t feel anything for Sarah, except maybe... hatred.”

Martins raised an eyebrow at me, clearly not buying it. “Hatred? Come on, Rich. She’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” I shot him a look. Was he serious? I stared down at my glass, watching the red liquid swirl.

“You know how this all started, don't you?” I felt the anger rise in me again, just thinking about it.

“Back in high school, I was with Susan. She was... well, she was everything. Confident, strong, not some clingy little girl who followed me around like a lost puppy.”I could feel the disgust creep into my voice.

“Then my dad and her dad got this bright idea—‘Hey, let's marry off our kids and strengthen our business ties.’ Like I was just some piece in their game.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” Martins said, but I could hear the sympathy in his voice. It irritated me. “But Sarah—”

“Sarah,” I cut him off, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. “Sarah was obsessed. It was disgusting. She made it so obvious.”

I could see her in my mind, always there, always looking at me with those wide eyes. “Always jumping on me, clinging like I was the air she needed to breathe.”

I continued. “Everywhere I turned, there she was. Smiling, blushing, trying to get my attention. And everyone thought it was cute.” I let out a bitter laugh.

“Cute? It was pathetic. Unlike Susan. Susan knew what she wanted. She had pride. She didn’t throw herself at me like Sarah did.”

“So, you hated her for liking you?” Martins asked, his voice annoyingly calm.

I leaned forward, my grip tightening around the glass. “I hated that she made it so easy for them to control me. My father used her feelings to push this marriage.”

“She could have refused to get married to me, but no, she decided to say yes.” I felt my jaw tighten as the memories flashed through my mind.

“It was like I was trapped in some twisted fairy tale, where everyone wanted the perfect love story. But it wasn't love. Not for me.”

“You could’ve told her,” Martins said quietly. “You could’ve made her understand.”

“Understand?” I scoffed, setting my glass down with a thud. “What was the point? She was so blind, so hopeful. Even if I told her, she’d just keep trying.”

“She never saw the real me. She just saw the version of me she wanted.” I looked away, staring at the flickering candle on the table. “I was just the prize at the end of her silly dream.”

Martins sighed, rubbing his temples. “And Susan? You still think she’s the one?”

“Susan…” Her name felt like a lifeline. “Susan understands. She's not weak like Sarah. She knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to go after it. She's not some fragile little flower.”

“But she’s not with you now,” Martins pointed out. “Sarah was.”

I felt a jolt of anger at his words. “Yeah, well, that was the deal, wasn’t it? I married Sarah to keep everyone happy. To fulfill my father’s wish.”

I forced a laugh, though it sounded bitter even to my ears. “And look where that got me.”

I felt the rage flare up inside me at the mere thought of it. The old man—Sarah’s father—was the real reason I was stuck in this mess.

“He was the one who killed my father, even if no one wanted to admit it.”

Martins was staring at me, his eyes searching for something. Understanding, maybe? I didn't care.

“Richard,” he began slowly, like he was picking his words carefully. “You know it was an accident. They didn't plan for it to happen.”

I glared at him, my fingers digging into the armrest of my chair. “Accident? He was the one driving, Martins! They drove themselves to death at the prospect of bonding their precious families together.”

“My father trusted him, and look where that got him—six feet under!” My voice was cold, each word like a knife cutting through the air.

“If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened."

Martins rubbed his forehead, looking more tired than before. “You could have rejected Sarah after that, you know. Both your fathers were gone. No one would have stopped you.”

I shot him a sharp look, my eyes narrowing. “As if you didn't know,” I snapped. He was my best friend; of course, he knew the full story.

“It wasn't just about our fathers. It was about my grandfather, too. The moment Dad died, he took over and made sure I couldn’t get out of this trap.”

Martins leaned back, listening, but he didn't say anything this time. He knew I was just getting started.

“My grandfather told me straight up,” I continued, my voice laced with bitterness.

“‘You marry Sarah,’ I refused, of course. Told him I already had someone I wanted to marry. Susan. But he didn’t care. He said the only way to claim my inheritance was to marry her. Did I have a choice?”

“Your grandfather was a stubborn man,” Martins said quietly.

“Stubborn? That's putting it mildly.” I let out a harsh laugh. “He practically held my life hostage. Marry Sarah, or lose everything. Those were my choices. And he made it clear there wouldn't be a third option.”

It felt as if those years were replaying itself. The frustration, the anger, the feeling of being caged.

My grandfather died a year after I married Sarah. A whole year I had to endure that sham of a marriage, just to keep everything in line.

But the moment he passed, I was free. Free to divorce her and live my life the way I wanted.

“And that's exactly what I did,” I muttered, more to myself than to Martins. “The second he was out of the picture, I filed those papers. I wasn't going to waste another second.”

Martins just sat there, staring at his glass. He always supported Sarah, but he didn't have a choice when I requested for a divorce.

It was either his best friend of many decades or Sarah.