As the applause subsided and guests resumed their own conversations, Benedict didn't hesitate to pull Sabrina aside. The phony smile he'd donned during their dance was gone within an instant, exchanged for a look of icy indifference. They stepped out of the ballroom, away from the crowd, and into a quiet corner of the reception hall. No warning, of course-just leaned and caught her by the arm, his fingers digging into her skin as he turned her to face him.
"You succeeded," Benedict spat, voice low but full of venom. "You managed to marry me, but don't for one second believe you'll ever have my heart.".
She felt her eyes grow wide with the bitterness in his tone. Now she knew that he did not love her. But this was different-he said it all. On their wedding day, too. A sick feeling was in her belly as tears threatened to well up inside her once again. She bit down hard on her lip and kept them from falling.
"I don't love you," he continued, his eyes dark and unfeeling. "And I will never love you.".
Each word was like a hammer coming down, crushing her into little pieces. She had always dreamed of these moments her whole life. She had imagined how it would be when marrying her childhood sweetheart. But this. this is a nightmare. Sabrina couldn't look up. She kept her head down, the tight chest squeezing the pain through her as she tried to hold onto her tears. She couldn't breathe. Tears fell hard beneath her eyelids; she couldn't hide them anymore. She did not want to cry in front of him, didn't want to give him an opportunity to see the depth he was speaking, but it was too much pain.Save your tears," Benedict sneered, watching her as she wept with contempt.
"They won't change a thing.". Having said that, he let go of her arm and walked away while Sabrina stood there, broken and alone.
The laughter and feasting from the reception of the wedding echoed in the background-an irony of the emptiness inside. This was a day when she should have seen happiness; it was the day she let go of her heart-the damage the result for destruction. After the ceremony, Benedict could hardly stay until he carried out the obligatory greetings. Just after the reception ended, he simply got up and left without a word from the house. Sabrina did not know where he was headed, but she knew better than to ask. She stood in the hollow mansion, still dressed in her wedding dress, and around her, silence was a crushing thing. The weight of all that had befallen her that day seemed to press upon her breathing.
She was a ghost in her house, forgotten and deserted.It was some hours since Sabrina had removed her dress to put on an easy nightgown. She sat beside the window, glancing outside into a night that seemed darker than anything before. How had it all gone so wrong? She had married for love and yet he hated her. What had she expected? That man to wake up one morning and, just because they were saying 'I do', suddenly fall in love with her? She knew Benedict was cruel, but the coldness in his eyes earlier was the worst of it.How long did the night drag on before he returned?No response.It wasn't until early morning hours when she heard the slamming of the front door that Sabrina's heart had racing. Her mind, immediately in discredit, fixed on Benedict. She quickly got up and rushed downstairs and found him staggering into the living room, reeking of booze.He was drunk.Benedict's eyes bloodshot, his feet unsteady as he kicked off his shoes and slumped onto the couch. Sabrina stood there a beat of hesitation then, watching him from the doorway, unsure what to do. " Benedict?" she called softly into the room, stepping in. "Look at this, look at that," he slurred, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "My lovely wife. Aren't you just the picture of perfection?"Sabrina swallowed hard.Her heart felt a dull ache to see him like this. He wasn't the Benedict she had once adored. The man in front of her now was bitter and cruel and broken.
"Don't you ever touch me!" he bellowed at her in fury, jerking his arm free from her reach when she had instinctively gone out to steady him. "I don't need your fucking help!"
She winced at the bruskness of his voice.The waves of tears started flowing over her again. It was as if every word was a thorn that pierced through her soul, laced with unkindness. "I only want to—""What?Take care of me?" Benedict cut in, his voice dripping with disgust. "You think you have the right now to mother me because we are married? You do not own me, Sabrina. You never will."
Sabrina clamped her mouth shut to keep the tears at bay once more. "I'm not trying to own you, Benedict. I'm just—"
"Just what?" he cut her off again, rising unsteadily to his feet and glaring down at her. "You think just because we are married now, everything's going to be all right? That I'm going to forget how you conned me into this?"
"I didn't trick you," Sabrina said softly, her voice shaking. "I have loved you for years, Benedict. All I have ever wanted is to be with you."
He laughed harshly, the sound cruel and mocking. "Loved me? You don't even know me, Sabrina. You fell in love with some fantasy, but I'm not that man. I will never be that man."
"I know who you are," she whispered - low and, for the first time, shaking with tears. Every tear felt like a release, carrying the burden of her heartache as well as the truth she could no longer hide. "And I still love you." Benedict's eyes pinched together. His whole face rearranged into angry lines. "Well, I don't love you," he said, his voice spiky and serrated. "And I never will. So stop this pathetic fantasy you've built up in your head." Sabrina's heart shuddered at his words, but she found her courage. "I don't expect you to love me right away," she whispered above a whisper. "But can't we at least try?" "Try?" Benedict sneered, stumbling a little as he drew closer to her. "There's nothing to try, Sabrina. This marriage means nothing to me."He moved closer still, so close that his face was inches from hers, and for an instant, Sabrina thought he might relent.
Then his mouth hardened into a harsh line, and the next words were a slap in the face."You'll never have my heart, Sabrina," he told her harshly. "And the sooner you realize that, the better."
Sabrina's chest compressed, her breathing instantaneously slowing. She looked up at him. She knew this man once, this stranger who'd held her love in his arms for so long. She'd hoped-prayed-maybe things'll get better after the wedding. But now she knew. This is her life now. A marriage built on pain and rejection.Without a word, Benedict turned and stumbled up the stairs.Sabrina watched him walk down the hall, her face wet with tears, her heart splintered to bits. She knew one thing: she was completely and utterly alone.Sabrina stood as a statue in the dim lit hall, her heart a racing and tears flowing ceaselessly down her cheeks. His curt words kept ringing in her ear; each syllable in his speech a burning hole reminding her of the schism between them. She slapped her hands on her chest, trying to hold herself inside."I will never have his heart," she whispered to herself, feeling the weight of his rejection settle heavily on her shoulders. "What did I expect? That love would conquer all?"That reality struck her like a chilly wave. The man with whom she had wished to spend all of life had just crushed all those hopes into pieces with a few brutal words. Wiping away tears, she heard the approach of footsteps.It was Teresa-the mother-in-law-whose expression seemed both full of concern and disappointment. "Sabrina? Okay?"Sabrina smiled, though it felt like shards of glass were lodged in her throat. "I'm fine, just. tired."Teresa narrowed her eyes. She didn't believe it. "You don't look fine. Where
And so she'd walked away, his words stabbing her ears as they struck home."You think you can just waltz in here and play like you're good enough to have my love? You'll never have it, Sabrina," he had sneered, the disgust spewing from him like acid that cut into her heart. Every step was hard as she moved through the grand house now that had become a cage of gilded bars and memories bitter with the poison of anger.She was lost in this world he created, full of resentment and anger. "Why even bother?" he had shouted at her, his face distorted in rage as she tried to reach out to him. "You're just a reminder of everything I hate about my life!"Yet still, she gave in . Deep down, there was still some love from her side of his body that seemed mutually less, but still true love between two souls. She had still not given up. Still catching for breath, "I'm not giving up on you," she could still stare at tear-stained mascara and tears, and hurt etched upon her face staring back from the
Morning sun spilled into the expansive dining room as Sabrina set the table for breakfast that took her hours to prepare. She had cooked all his favorites: scrambled eggs with chives, perfectly crispy bacon, and freshly squeezed orange juice. It was her silent way of showing Benedict she cared, despite the poison he threw her way every chance he got. She longed to bridge the distance separating them, compel him to look past his revulsion at her. Stepping back from the stove and the last plate, Benedict had entered the room; and certainly, his face showed no softer countenance for traversing it. He darted his look across the table; and then faced about and settled back in the chair with an irreverent huff of discontent. "This is all you had ready? " he snapped, pushing the plate aside as if it were insulting. "A good breakfast, and this is the best you could do?" Sabrina pulled up a small, tight smile. She clung to the side of the chair she leaned on to balance herself. "I — I prepared
Morning sun spilled into the expansive dining room as Sabrina set the table for breakfast that took her hours to prepare. She had cooked all his favorites: scrambled eggs with chives, perfectly crispy bacon, and freshly squeezed orange juice. It was her silent way of showing Benedict she cared, despite the poison he threw her way every chance he got. She longed to bridge the distance separating them, compel him to look past his revulsion at her. Stepping back from the stove and the last plate, Benedict had entered the room; and certainly, his face showed no softer countenance for traversing it. He darted his look across the table; and then faced about and settled back in the chair with an irreverent huff of discontent. "This is all you had ready? " he snapped, pushing the plate aside as if it were insulting. "A good breakfast, and this is the best you could do?" Sabrina pulled up a small, tight smile. She clung to the side of the chair she leaned on to balance herself. "I — I prepared
Benedict's icy glare felt like a winter storm, chilling Sabrina to her core. Her heart raced with a mix of fear and heartbreak as she faced him. He was Benedict Thompson, the only heir to the Thompson estates, a man known more for his wild ways than for his business brilliance. At a young age, he became a billionaire and led BMX Estates, a huge architectural firm. Now, he paced angrily in his family’s luxurious living room, each step echoing the thick tension in the air.“Last night, you seduced me,” he spat, his voice sharp and filled with anger. “What trick did you use to make my mother force me into this marriage?”Sabrina welled up with tears, trying to find the right words. She had never seen him like this; in pain and disbelief."I... I didn’t trick you," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I've liked you since we were kids. That’s all."His harsh laugh cut through her, deepening his rage. “You think I would believe that? The wedding, everything—it’s just a trap, isn’t it?”“I’
The next day came, though her feelings had been utterly smashed the night before, the wedding preparations continued on. Sabrina hardly recognised who peered back at her as she sat in the bride's suite: white, pale, tear-rimmed eyes, but still, a beautiful silken cloth hugged her body, soft curls framed her face.Her mother, Leila, entered and sat beside her. Her face etched with despair."Sabrina dear," she whispered softly, "do you really want to do this? You don't have to do this."Sabrina shook her head. New tears formed in her eyes. "Mom, what am I suppose to do?" she whispered in a barely audible voice, her voice barely above a whisper, quivering with uncertainty. "I love him, but he…. He hates me."The burden of her heart pressure weighed upon her chest so heavily that it became unbearable to breathe. She felt lost and scared, like standing at a crossroads with no signs guiding her.Then her eyes questioned her mother to seek solace as well as find answers that seemed really too
Locked with fury in her eyes, Teresa gripped Benedict's arm tightly with her fingernails digging deep into his skin. He was in the middle of an idle conversation with his friends, and the force of his mother's yank thrust him back into harsh reality. The smile dropped off his face, replaced by irritation."Turn around now and go back to Sabrina!" Teresa hissed to his face, her voice low but full of a venom that brought him up short. "This is your wedding! You're supposed to be with your wife, not out here screwing like some irresponsible idiot! Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is? How much shame you're bringing to our family?fix this Now!"She snapped her eyes to his with a warning so sharp he felt a jolt of anger-cum-tethers him to the moment. She wasn't letting this slide past. She gave one last withering glare to ensure the point had been wholly impressed, then turned and stormed off, heels clicking impatiently on the marble floor.Benedict clenched his teeth, pinioned and