She found some strength to go to Benedict, and the laughter and the music faded into the background as she focused on the man who had become both her pain and, in the strangest way, her resistance. The longer she had been at the event, she realized she didn't need his validation but the thought of confronting him, standing up to him even in the smallest ways, felt like a much-needed long-overdue obligation.She came upon him as he played host to a small circle of admirers. They laughed a little too hard, their eyes flicking between him and Sabrina as she closed in on them. Her heart started racing, her hands closing tight around her clutch."Benedict," she said, her voice calm but firm. His gaze fell on her, and his smile died out, replaced by annoyance."What is it?" he said coolly, his voice laced with irritation."We need to talk," she said, forcing herself to meet his steely gaze. She could feel the eyes of the onlookers darting between them, sensing the tension.Benedict smirked,
But for the first time, she felt like she could breathe again; as if the weight of his disdain had finally started to lift. Her heart still hurt and the ache of his rejection still throbbed, but a new strength was simmering beneath the surface. She had faced him, stood up to him, and reclaimed a part of herself that she had lost in the shadow of their broken marriage.As she disappeared in the crowd, along with admirers who never knew the man behind that mask of smiles, Sabrina made herself a promise silently. No more getting held captive to his meanness. No more letting him tear apart the person she was trying to find.Tonight had been a small victory, a spark of defiance that would eventually lead to her liberation. She did not know how or when, but one day, she will leave this broken marriage for good. And on the day she would, she would be stronger, more courageous, and more braver than she had ever felt before. Turning back to the party, she rejoined the crowd, quiet determinatio
Sabrina turned around, the pulsating energy of the dance floor fading behind her. As she spun around with this intoxicating mix of freedom and reckless abandon in her veins, her laughter would have cut through the cacophony of the party like a tune that was so sweet to be savored. She had been free for what had seemed like a blissful few moments, lost to the rhythm of the music, the warmth of people. Concerns that had been growing for so long about Benedict—the spaced-out look in his eyes and the unspoken words lingering between them—became a memory. She lived, pulsed, breathed for the night to hold her folded within its folds.But as the hours went by and the drinks kept pouring, a heaviness started settling in her mind. She blinked away the blur of bright lights as dizziness washed over her. She breathed into herself to try to get her bearings."Hey, I'm going out to get some air," she called out to Claire, who continued to spin and laugh, totally lost in her own bliss.Claire barely
By the time Benedict reached the house, he had plenty to utter about his distaste, yet he dragged himself up those stairs with Sabrina in tow. She was drunk enough she could not even move on her own, and the wreckage of her tantrum swayed in the heavy unspoken tension between them like a pendulum. Benedict laid her slack form over in the bathroom and carefully settled her in the tub. Just when he would have let her go, she forward leaned and, in the most disgusting display imaginable, hurled all over his chest."Are you freakin' kidding me? " he mumbled, disgusted by the look on his face. He quickly shrugged out of his suit jacket and recoiled, wincing as he tried to scrub the stench off of his body. But with his movements, Sabrina's bleary gaze snapped to him, her drunkard eyes locking onto his cut torso. She blinked, and a drowsy smile spread across her face."Wow… abs," she slurred, reaching out to pinch his stomach playfully. She bent forward before he could respond, pressing her
Sabrina closed her eyes as warm water dripped, mingling the droplets with her tears. Standing there in the warmth, she wished she could wash her heart turmoil with soothing warmth. The echo of Benedict's words clung in her mind; every syllable dug into her hurt soul even further.She did love him, she reflected, her heart breaking because of the admission. "But does he even care?" Not a whit, it would seem. She could sense the warmth of the bath enveloping her as small comfort, but no heat could numb the chill over marriage the apathy had cast for her. She clenched her fists, letting sadness and hurt into her. But also, she said, determination that churned beneath the surface.As she scrubbed at her skin, trying to get rid of the leftovers of the evening—the smell of alcohol, the bitterness of betrayal, the weight of loneliness—her will began to harden. "I can manage this pain for now," she whispered to herself, voice quivering but resolute. "I will survive, I will survive. But if he
Sabrina caught her breath, shook off the bittersweet memory of the previous night, and knew that for Benedict, it was just a whim, one he would soon forget. For her, it just strengthened the bitter truth of their one-sided relationship.It echoed off the quiet walls of their house, and Sabrina's heart tightened at the thought of her husband returning. He would probably sweep past her without even casting a glance her way. Then there would be an aside or a word of faultfinding, and it all again was a reminder of the way he treated her—another reminder of his inaccessibility. But today Sabrina steeled herself. Today, she wouldn’t allow his coldness to cut as deeply.She headed into the kitchen, making him breakfast as she had done each morning since they had gotten married. It was a ritual she knew all too well, but even though her hands moved methodically through the process, her head wandered to the promise she made herself: hold onto this new strength and sense of self, no matter wha
Less than an hour passed, and Teresa arrived. The room filled with warmth Sabrina hadn't known she desperately needed, sitting with Teresa at the kitchen table, and unspoken words hung in the air between them.Moments passed and Teresa reached out to take Sabrina's hands across the table.. Her eyes were soft with concern. "Sabrina, my dear. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for all the pain Benedict has put you through.".Sabrina's lips trembled as the words of Teresa pierced through the walls she built around her heart. She turned her eyes downward so that Teresa would not see those tears form in her eyes. But Teresa gently prodded up her chin, making her look at her."You do not deserve this, Sabrina," Teresa said, and now her voice cracked with emotion. "I don't know how to begin to explain just how embarrassed I am because he is my son, and I brought him to you. I raised my son to be better than this – to love the woman I'd chosen to stand by him. And yet. Forcing him on you had made him a
After her emotional talk with Benedict's mom, Sabrina spent most of her day planting flowers in the garden. It was her way of trying to forget the stress and emotional turmoil she felt because of Benedict. As evening fell, she found herself alone again. She never expected Benedict to come home just to have dinner with her. After everything that happened last night, when they were together in the shower, she thought he despised her. To him, she was just a maid, and he saw no feelings involved, only lust. But for Sabrina, it was different, as she loved him deeply.She took a warm shower and changed into a nightgown, hoping for some peace. But around midnight, she heard the doorbell ring. Everyone was asleep, so she had to go downstairs to know who it was. And it was Benedict, but this time he was drunk. He had been drinking much lately, perhaps owing to the problems at his company, but he never spoke to her about it.The door creaked into her nostrils with a strong whiff of alcohol. No
"Everyone has a breaking point," she said to herself, a fierce determination in her voice. "And I’ll find theirs. With a steadying breath, she reached for her phone and dialed a number she hadn’t called in years.When someone finally picked up, she spoke in a chilling, calculated tone. "I need your help," she said. "It's personal, and I'm willing to pay—no questions asked." Then, there was a silence before the voice responded with, "What are you looking for?" Clara's obsession had finally peaked and had reached its dangerous point where all the calculated moves were going into desperation. She was storming around her apartment, with her anger barely under control. Her fingers tapped out on her phone as she scrolled through contacts with fury. "I need someone ruthless," she whispered to herself, narrowing her eyes at the number. Dialing fast, she tapped her foot impatiently. When the line clicked, a gruff voice answered, "Who is this?""It's Clara Hemp," she said coldly. "I have a job f
That evening, as they went back in the house, Benedict extended his hand toward Sabrina. She was hesitant for that moment, between uncertainty and hope, and then let her fingers intertwine with his. But warmth of his touch sent down shivers on her spine, reviving long buried feelings. The house was silent, the only sounds coming from the refrigerator humming in the kitchen and the gentle patter of Saben playing with his toys in the living room. Benedict looked into Sabrina's eyes; they were filled with warmth. "Thanks for trusting me today," he whispered softly."I know it's not easy."Sabrina sat there in silence, feeling the full weight of his words. She just looked at their joined hands and felt this nostalgic feeling. She was reminiscing about the early days when they were together and their relationship so carefree and easygoing. It included all of the laughter and whispering promises but how he looked at her as if she was the world. "Benedict," she started, her voice breaking."I
But even as regret flickered in her heart, Clara's pride refused to let her admit defeat. Every failure only fueled her desperation, and her obsession with Benedict and Sabrina grew darker. If she couldn't have Benedict, then she would ensure he couldn't be happy with Sabrina. She planned something ugly in her mind to spoil the fragile peace. Her hatred was a clouding judgment that she convinced herself that she had nothing left to lose.Sabrina and Saben became the obstacles on her path to vengeance, and she intended to remove them. Week after week passed since Clara stalked Sabrina, Benedict, and Saben, watching their daily habits through school drop-offs, a family outing, seeing him chuckle with Saben and hold Sabrina's hand. The sight alone inflamed her blood with those moments. It wasn't envy; it was something within herself-a sore that she could never seem to let heal. One evening, Clara sat in her dimly lit apartment, pouring over photos she had secretly taken. Images of the ha
As Clara stormed out, defeated, Sabrina turned to Benedict. She saw, for the first time, not the man who had hurt her but the man who had grown-a man who was willing to fight, to change, and to put his family above everything else. His transformation was undeniable, and in his eyes, she saw sincerity and regret mingled with hope. For a moment, the weight of their shared past pressed down on her chest, but alongside it came a newfound lightness. She didn't fully trust him yet, but she couldn't deny the shift in her heart.The walls she had built so carefully were beginning to crumble—not in an explosion of emotion, but in slow, deliberate cracks that allowed just enough room for forgiveness to seep through. He looked into her, his expression relaxing. "Sabrina," he murmured softly, coming closer. "Thank you for sticking up for me out there. I know that was no easy feat." "Yes,Sabrina." she said in barely audible tones, her voice strained with emotion. "But it wasn't just about you. It
The lies were vicious but gained currency quickly; soon an onslaught by trolls online threatened Sabrina's character. Sabrina wanted to and tried to tune out some of the comments, not easy. One evening, tearing through her phone, it brought tears to her eyes; Benedict found her in the living room tightly clutching her device: "Don't read that crap," he took the phone from her face. "None of that is ever true." "I know," Sabrina whispered, her voice trembling. "But it still hurts.". Benedict pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “We’ll get through this, Sabrina. Together.”Despite Clara’s relentless efforts, Benedict and Sabrina refused to crumble under the weight of her schemes. Each attack only solidified their resolve to protect their family. Late-night conversations, whispered promises, and shared moments with Saben began to fill the cracks in their fractured relationship. Benedict was no longer the man Sabrina had known once. He had transformed into a devoted father and man
Clara paced in her dimly lit apartment, her manicured nails tapping rhythmically against the glass of wine in her hand. Her world was crumbling; her reputation lay in shambles and the career she had fought so hard for was now in ruin.The press conference held by Benedict absolved Sabrina from all accusations and portrayed Clara as a liar. It was simply humiliating. “This isn’t over,” Clara hissed to herself, her lips curling into a bitter smile.“Sabrina might think she’s won, but I’ll make her pay. I’ll make them all pay.” She retrieved her phone and started frittering through social media, where anger gave fingers to tremble as there would be pictures of Benedict with Sabrina and Saben in the park. And they looked happy, glowing, as if nothing ever could touch their perfect family. It was sick."They'll regret this," Clara murmured, her voice venomous. She opened a new folder on her laptop titled Justice and began gathering information. Photos, old messages, any scrap of detail she
Gradually, Sabrina began to discover another Benedict. He had come off of that workaholic, snobbish man she was acquainted with earlier. He proved to be patient, attentive, and truly committed to amends. Whether helping Saben build a treehouse in the backyard or volunteering to cook family dinners – much though his culinary skills left many things to be desired - actions were louder than words for Benedict.One evening, as Benedict tucked Saben into bed, Sabrina stood by the door, quietly observing. Saben had his giggles as Benedict attempted to read him the bedtime story in funny voices, his deep baritone an amusing contrast for the whimsical characters."Goodnight, Daddy.""Goodnight, champ," replied Benedict, leaning forward to kiss his forehead.And then Benedict turned and met Sabrina's gaze. Some things said no word. But in the expression exchanged, forgiveness did not shine. Still, there was some sort of acknowledgment made here—a tiny baby step toward mutual comprehension.Ben
From then on, Benedict accepted fatherhood with a vengeance in him. He set out and, for the first time ever in his life, chose to be in Saben's life. The same corporate head who used to pride himself on contracts signed, profits generated, and profits accounted for now stood beside those he had never meant for anything.Each morning, Benedict made it a point to drive to the Taylor mansion to have breakfast with Saben. The first time he arrived, the boy’s face lit up with pure delight. “You’re here, Daddy!” Saben exclaimed, running into Benedict’s arms. It was a moment Benedict would never forget—the simple yet profound joy of his son’s embrace.Benedict started planning his days around Saben, such that he was there for every milestone that occurred. Whether it was school events or homework, he was also there to cheer him through soccer practice.“Daddy, look!” Saben called one afternoon, holding up a drawing he had made of their family. It was a colorful crayon illustration of Saben,
Benedict's jaw clenched in place. He seemed to be flashing a fleeting guilt across his face. "Because I see it now. I see what I lost. I see what I could've had if I had been the man she needed me to be back then. I'm not asking for forgiveness, Mrs. Taylor—I know I don't deserve it yet. But I'm asking for a chance. A chance to earn back their trust."Wendy's eyes softened ever so slightly, but her voice remained firm. "This isn't about earning trust, Benedict. It's about proving you're worth the pain they've endured. If you falter, if you let them down again, it won't just break their hearts-it will destroy them. Can you carry that burden?"Benedict straightened, his resolve hardening. "I can. I will.Wendy’s silence returned, but this time, there was a flicker of approval in her eyes. “We shall see,” she murmured, her voice thoughtful. “You’ve taken the first step, but there are many more ahead.”As they left the study, the tension eased slightly. In the living room, Sabrina sat on