As Sabrina settled back onto the pillows, a quiet resilience began to beat in her chest—a feeling she hadn't experienced in years. She allowed herself to glance around the room, letting reality sink in—she was going to be a mother with or without Benedict's approval or belief. Where she had once dreamed of their future together, she now realized that hers didn't need to end where his indifference began.She had spent so long trying to piece together the broken shards of their crippled marriage, hanging onto every crumb of affection that Benedict had dangled in her way, no matter how small or short-lived. It was freeing and terrifying. In the warm light of Teresa's encouragement, a new path lay before Sabrina, one of joy and strength untainted by Benedict's presence.She was carrying this child, a part of her, a new life she got to nurture and protect. And if Benedict refused to believe, if he turned his back on them, then so be it. She would give all the love, strength, and happiness
The next morning, Sabrina moved around the kitchen preparing breakfast when nausea hit her hard all of a sudden, almost doubling her over. Morning sickness had taken hold, leaving her weak and exposed. It was just then that she heard the creaking of the front door and the pounding inside her chest. That was the moment she had imagined a hundred times in her mind: the confrontation with Benedict. But when she saw the giant figure of Benedict standing there at the door, she lost some of that confidence.Benedict walked in. Dark shadows of dislike surrounded him. "If you want to puke Sabrina, don’t let me see it," he said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "Honestly, do you really want to act like the dramatic pregnant woman now?"He was stabbing her with words full of cruel mockery that turned her inside out. Under the heavy weight of his judgment, she felt smothered, small, and inconsequential in comparison to him. It was more than a fight; it was a battle of wills, and inside her own m
Benedict hadn't come home again, but Sabrina was so accustomed to that becoming her reality. Nights turned into eternities of endless silences, and hope, clung to helplessly about his returning to her, slowly flew out the window. She had grown used to the emptiness; the hollow ache that arose from sharing a life with someone who hardly gave her a moment's notice. So, she went to the Thompson house, where she intended to visit her mother, Leila, who for the last twenty years had been the maid for Benedict's family. Memories of her childhood flooded through her mind as she stepped into the familiar mansion. There, after school, she spent a few hours with her mother, who folded laundry or prepared meals for the Thompsons. Even then, she’d catch glimpses of Benedict in the halls, though he never really noticed her. Years later, now she was his wife, yet he barely acknowledged her. It was in the kitchen that Sabrina encountered Leila, her mother's hands now bearing witness to years of se
The week was a haze of packing, paperwork, and goodbyes. Sabrina helped her mother move into a little house in her hometown, which, though modest, seemed warm and cozy. Her neighbors welcomed Leila with open arms. The place felt simple and warm again. Here, she was just Sabrina, not "Mrs. Thompson." She could breathe.Yet, as the days passed, an ache began to settle in her chest. She hadn't heard a single word from Benedict. No calls, no texts, nothing at all. A part of her was relieved—it was simpler to forget the ache of his indifference when he was away; however, as her day of departure grew closer, the hurt crept back in. She would return to an icy, hollow house, a husband barely looking at her, and a marriage that felt more like a punishment cell.Sabrina stayed a week in her mother's town, helping Leila settle in, making sure she had all the things she needed. She was comforted by all the familiar habits of home—toothpaste and shirts, the warmth of her mother's small but cozy ho
This was the nightmare journey back to the mansion, a cruel countdown, mile by mile bringing her closer to that reality she feared and had no choice but to face. Sabrina's heart is a tempest of emotions: dread, hurt, hope. Beneath it all, still clinging somewhere down deep, was the chance that maybe his coldness would turn around, and Benedict would prove he cares; that he'd call or text, asking when she'd be coming home. But the word of him was silence, this void that hollowed like an ache in her breast.When she finally opened the door to the mansion, night had fallen deep. It was dark-dark enough to feel ominous, like any feeling she had inside was dark. She parked outside the house and sat inside the car for a while as her fingers clutched the car wheel, as if clinging to it for life itself. Going inside, entering into the life that she chose to remain in, felt like entering a vacuum. But she had promised herself—and, thereby her child—that she would try.With a deep, steadying br
Sabrina rose from her seat, her body aching not just from the physical toll of the night but from the weight of every broken promise, every ounce of love she had wasted on a man who saw her as an accessory. She padded mechanically to the closet, her limbs propelling her out of the situation. She packed in a flash, her fingers acting of their own volition as she tossed a few clothes, some papers, and the essentials into a small suitcase. She lost her mind as she tried to think of where she would go or what she could do from there.As she closed the bag, another sharp bout of pain hit her—she would have to move away from everything in this world she knew and about which she had dreamed. But when she ran her hand over the bulge at her stomach, she felt a renewed strength flow through her. Her child deserved so much better than this. *I deserve better than this,* she felt, an unrelenting strength growing inside. This was not just about leaving Benedict; it was about reclaiming herself, th
As Sabrina drove away from a life shared with Benedict, an empty hollow feeling could be felt inside of her chest, though something inside her continued to hold her steady and resolute. She left behind the heartache, the rejection, and constant struggle in her relentless pursuit for a love that Benedict was never willing to give. She gripped the steering wheel tightly as she veered off on the unfamiliar path. She knew the trip wouldn't be easy, but for the first time ever, she had chosen herself-and that felt like a powerful beginning.Thirty Years AgoThe early morning sun in California shone kindly over the rolling hills of Napa Valley, but the woman standing atop a vineyard hill cared little for the beauty surrounding her. Mrs. Wendy Taylor was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit and pearls, which reflected her status and wealth, as she sized up the estate with a calculating cold gaze. She had had no sentimental reasons for visiting this place or an appreciation of her surroundin
One afternoon, while unwrapping the old boxes that had been kept in the living room who knows how long, Sabrina caught herself wondering who could be so adamant about knocking on the door. Puzzled, she furrowed her brow and wiped her hands on a towel to rid them of the dust from work.It was a late afternoon, and she was unwrapping old boxes in the living room when there came a sharp knock at the door. Sabrina would frown and rub her hands on a towel before going to answer."You, stand there by the door," Sabrina blinks at the stranger in her doorway. "Can I help you?" Her voice comes out a little uncertain and open.The woman smiled warmly, but there was something mysterious in her eyes. "I think I'm the one who should be saying that, my dear."She paused for a moment, taking in Sabrina's features. "You look so much like your father." And the light of mentioning Sabrina's father lit her heart on fire. She never knew her father. Only her mother's stories, which made him seem like a my
One evening, when the setting sun painted the sky with soft hues of orange and pink, Benedict realized it was time to do something more to prove himself to Sabrina. Though he had been patient in giving her space, as she needed it, he felt the load of time. He wanted her to know that this was not a joke; he had serious intentions about them-that is, rebuilding their family. He fussed in front of the mirror over the knotting of his tie. Tonight had to be flawless; tonight was only one stop on the journey for that future he was setting to build with her.He took a deep breath and checked his time; his message was sent-simple as could be: "Would you go on a date with me? A real one this time. Just the two of us. I'll take care of everything. Sabrina’s response came a few minutes later: “Okay, Benedict. I’ll be there.” The thrill of anticipation coursed through him. It wasn’t just another dinner or a casual outing. This was his chance to show her that he was committed to more than just bei
"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,