MICHAEL'S POVIt was Sunday morning. I was sitting up on the bed, gazing straight at the plain white wall of my hospital room, and was smiling.The dull ache in my leg was still there, and the fatigue in my joints had not gone away, yet I was smiling. The reason for that was because, in my head, I was not really in that hospital room; my thoughts were with just one person, Isabella. I was thinking about my last encounter with her.“She had come here indeed. It was not a dream.”“I prayed and hoped and yearned for it, and it happened. She had stood only a few spaces away from me. I heard her voice.”And to make everything more glorious, she had announced her divorce right in my face. It was not a dream.A fresh smile crept onto my lips. Every memory of her felt like a balm, soothing the pain in my body.I replayed the conversations of that blessed morning over and over again. From the ones she had with her brother and parents to the few sentences she spoke to me.It was more than enou
Michael’s povMy mother, sensing the tension in the room, stepped forward with her arms stretched out towards me."Michel, maybe you should think about it. The family…""I want real happiness, Mom.” I cut her off without hesitation, keeping my voice steady.“I’m sorry to say this, Mom. But this is not my idea of marriage. I don't want a marriage like yours and Dad's. I want real love. I can't play business with that as well."My parents exchanged glances while Grandma leaned in to whisper, “Michael, take it easy.” But I grunted, pulling an adamant expression.Grandfather’s skin was glowing red at this point. He looked at me with a mix of disappointment and deep frustration. "So you think love is enough? You think the world is some kind of movie. Anyway, I just hope you don't regret this. I just hope."“I won't!” I retorted firmly, but this time, he did not answer me.Instead, he sprang up to his feet forcefully and shook his head pitifully, marching out of the room and slamming the
ISABELLA’S POVIt was a brand new day again and about three days now since my return. About an hour ago, my dad had woken me up to an exorbitant surprise, while mom had followed him closely, wearing a supportive face.Together, they had entered my room, approaching my bed schemingly and beaming with smiles while jingling a bunch of keys at me, the metallic gleam catching the morning light. "Hey Bella,” Father had called, his voice filled with both tenderness and a hint of elderly mischief."Here's your divorce gift.” He teased me. While his mother laughed and slapped the back of his neck.“This one here is for your new apartment three streets away, and the other one is for a brand new car, parked right now at the slot outside."I had sat up with an instant force, gawking at the keys like someone in a dream and suddenly feeling a sense of underserved privilege and moral unease.A gift of this magnitude was the last thing I was expecting from them, not after all I have put them throu
ISABELLA’S POV"You should have just said a lady was at the door." I said, battling with the unhealthy mix of frustration and amusement."Or better yet, my friend Scarlett." I added.The maid cowered and curted to“I’m sorry, ma'am.”My mother, noticing the shift, let out a relieved sigh and took her seat again."Oh, Maddie is quite new," she said, gesturing towards the said maid. "She doesn’t know Scarlett yet. Besides, your naughty head of a friend hasn’t been here for a while now.”Grandpa and Grandma appeared relieved as well as they went back to their meal. Aunt Amelia kept shaking her head faintly, half smiling as she continued watching.“To think that I thought it was an old woman coming." She said.Scarlett began to approach at the point with measured steps, her eyes twinkling with amusement.When she was close enough, she curted with a bright smile, making sure to show special respect to Grandpa and Grandma."Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington," she greeted, nodding resp
ISABELLA'S POVI looked at Scarlett again; the box felt heavy in my hands, much heavier than it should have been on a normal day.It wasn't the weight of the content inside, but the weight of what it represented, the possibilities it held, could either redeem me or even wound me further. Just as I was about to peel open the wrapping, Scarlett's phone suddenly trembled, cutting through the stillness between us like a knife. I watched her face closely as she glanced at the screen. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at the name on the screen.“It’s Ruth; oh my God, Bella, I really have to take this,” she said, her voice suddenly brisk and distant. I shrugged and mumbled.“Sure…of course.”When she was done with speaking with the person on the phone, she dropped it on her laps and turned back to me sharply.“It’s an urgent matter with one of my clients overseas. I forgot to submit his last art projects.”I nodded, still holding the box, feeling an odd yet surprising surge of reli
ISABELLA'S POVThe instructions said it would take a few minutes, but it felt like hours to me.My eyes kept switching back and forth between the stick and the clock's second hand.After about an extra minute of doing this, I finally forced myself to look down at the test result. The first line appeared almost immediately, sharp and definite, but I kept watching, my pulse drumming in my ears.For a moment, there was nothing else, just a white space where the second line would be. My heart dared to hope, wishing it would remain that way.But then, slowly, a faint blush of pink started to seep through; it was so faint at first that I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.I leaned closer, narrowing my eyes and holding my breath as I watched.In seconds, the second line grew bolder, deepening more and more until there was no denying it.“Two lines.” I whispered weakly.Feeling a deep, aching heaviness settle in my chest.The realization hit me with the force of a tidal wave.“I was
ISABELLA'S POVThe operating room was filled with the soft hum of machines and the quiet tension of the team getting ready for the procedure. I could feel the eyes of the other doctors on me as soon as I entered; their respect was mixed with a hint of curiosity. I knew they were wondering how I would handle this complex case. Even though they were fellow doctors, they could not wait to see the popular phantom medic in action before their eyes. I was more of a celebrity to them than a lead surgeon.I cleared my throat and took my place at the operating table, my focus narrowing to the task at hand. When I looked at my front, James was already there, his eyes following my every move. I could sense his unease, but he was trying to hide it.I avoided making eye contact with him and stepped a little forward until I was standing over the patient. Everything was set, and the time was now.“Scalpel,” I ordered, my voice steady and calm. The instrument was placed in my hand.In minutes, t
ISABELLA'S POV“Is everything okay?” Michael had asked from behind, his voice gentle, his worried gaze searching mine.I forced a smile. “Yes, it’s fine,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I just need to talk to my colleague for a moment. I’ll be back soon.” I walked in silence past the spot. James was standing to a secluded part of the garden, the air heavy with unspoken words. He followed me right after.I could feel James’s eyes on me, but I refused to meet his gaze, my mind already anticipating the confrontation. “Isabella, I need to talk to you,” James repeated, his voice low, now sounding like a plea, and it really was. “Look, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I want to make things right. Can we… can we start over?”I felt a sharp pang of anger rise within me, the memory of his betrayal still raw. “Start over?” I echoed, dropping my face. “James? Can you hear yourself? What are we starting over? The pretense? You told me your mind was only playing tricks on, you
ISABELLA'S POVA year had passed since our wedding ceremony, and as expected, so much had changed. And this change began from where we had chosen to start a family.A towering off white mansion.It was everything we had dreamed of as a couple: It really made the experience feel like what it was called—exactly settling down.Think about the spaciousness; think about meaningful layout. It was just perfect.However, our new home was one out of many of the positive developments. My career as the “Phantom Medic” had soared in ways I hadn’t thought possible. Over the past year, I could no longer count the number of lives, performing surgeries that others deemed initially impossible had saved.My renown had grown by twice, not just as a surgeon but as an advocate. Remember the foundation I had fought so hard to establish? It had also grown to become a beacon for research into rare diseases, and that had been a deeply personal mission born out of my own health struggles... my near-death
ISABELLA'S POVThree weeks had passed, and it felt like a lifetime since everything had come together so perfectly. I was standing at the entrance of the outdoor venue of Augustine's parish, it was the same church my maternal grandfather currently attended.The garden was so, so breathtaking.The large hall adjacent to the garden was filled up with family, friends and well wishers.The groom boy, Michael, my grandparents, cheerful as always, was sitting proudly among executives from his family's company. His own family mingled with the guests, their smiles radiating pride. My parents, always a picture of grace, were seated in the front row. My dad, Elliot Harrington, was wearing a navy blue suit that complimented his tall frame, while my mother looked radiant in an elegant gown. Owen and Nathan, my loving brothers, sat beside them. Owen, always the typical charmer that he was, wore a fitted burgundy suit.While Nathan opted for a classic black tuxedo, looking more reserved than
MICHAEL’S POVMy grandparent’s large living room felt like a theater of looming judgment this afternoon.Every seat was occupied, and none of us was sitting with ease. It was like we all had fire under our buttocks.At the head of the room, Grandpa Howard sat, his large frame rigid in his high-backed chair, his normal face was a mask of barely contained rage, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. He gripped the armrests, staring at Elsa, who, as usual, was sitting in the far corner of the room; this time, she was avoiding his gaze like it would burn her alive.Her posture was stiff, hands clenched tightly in her lap, her eyes moving about in every direction but Grandpa’s.I found myself also mirroring Grandpa’s expression, the same fire in my own eyes.I could feel my parents sitting on either side of me, their faces drawn tight with disgust, eyes locked on Elsa.My mother’s lips were twisted, and my father’s fingers twitched as though ready to lash out at any moment. The only person who wasn
ISABELLA’S POVI was sitting on my couch that afternoon, my TV tuned on some spaces away. The live broadcast had been on for nearly an hour, but my focus hadn’t wavered. There on the screen was Michael, seated among the press, his expression calm but resolute, just as we had rehearsed together the night before. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, and his eyes were sharp. Michael sat in the center of the long table, surrounded by journalists whose pens moved rapidly across their notepads, eager to catch every word.His posture was upright, shoulders squared, but I could of course feel the tension he bore.I leaned forward on the couch as Michael began speaking, his voice strong and unwavering despite the gravity of what he was about to expose."After months of working with Robert Carlisle, I’ve uncovered disturbing truths." Michael began, his voice steady but his eyes darkening with emotion."I discovered that he’s been altering the properties of our product to make it more addict
GENERAL POVOwen stood in front of the full-length mirror, tightening his tie with slow, deliberate movements. His reflection stared back.He brushed a few wrinkles from his collar, muttering under his breath, ticking off the list of meetings and cover-ups waiting for him at the office. After some time of thinking about the office and where he had to be, the same old thoughts crept back, uninvited and heavy.The same old sense of discomfort he had tried to bury for days now…his tangled feelings for Claire.Came yet again.However, his thought pattern was a little different this time.For reasons he couldn't explain, the scene from that fateful night replayed in his head.He had gone to meet her, intent on laying everything out his feelings, urge to speak his mind only to find her in the VIP section, lips locked with another man. Owen had frozen, his eyes startled and alarmed.But thinking about it now, what had haunted him more than the betrayal was actually her reaction. Claire ha
ISABELLA'S POVI sat at the edge of my couch, my mind a storm of thoughts.It's been three days. Three days since I’d stormed out of Scarlett’s place, a trip of reconciliation that had quickly developed into something else I didn't bargain for.Now, it was followed by her trying to reach out to me, forwarding. desperate and pleading in the text messages...I had ignored them all, as if refusing to acknowledge them would make the gnawing suspicion less real.My gaze drifted out of the window. Inside me, there was only a deepening gloom. The things I had seen that day, the contracts with Xander, strange inconsistencies in Scarlett’s defense—it had all begun to fester like an open wound.No, something isn’t right. The words escaped my lips in a low murmur, barely audible.I needed answers. And I needed them now. I picked up my phone, quickly dialing Claire’s number and agitation in my veins.“Good morning, Dr. Isabella,” Claire’s voice greeted me, bright and efficient as always.“Morn
MICHAEL’S POV The moment I stepped into the club,music hit me, vibrating floors dim lights, charged atmosphere…name it. I paused just inside the entrance, scanning the room casually, my eyes adjusting to the low lighting as I searched for Owen. We had agreed to meet here. The club was one of those exclusive spots, packed with people who knew they were being watched but pretended otherwise. As I looked around, I saw a few groups clustered in private booths, laughter merged with the hum of conversation, while some others wriggled their tiny waists on the dance floor. Taking a breath, I made my way in, walking slowly and moving through the crowd, my hands brushing past people’s shoulders. Owen would be waiting in the VIP section, and I needed not to rush to get there. However, the urgency of what brought me drove me. The VIP area was cordoned off by a velvet rope, guarded by a bouncer who gave me a curt nod of recognition before unhooking the rope. I slipped past without a
ISABELLA'S POVNathan had shared with me how Scarlett had been visiting him of late, lingering too long at his door, just enough to stir old wounds. And even reaching out to the estate security personnel whenever he wasn't around. At least it showed a level of desperation on her part. And that was why I was on my way there today.Despite the hurt, part of me hoped we could still talk this out. Even though restoring her back into his life wouldn't be all that possible.But we could still arrive at something that works. Just like James and I had done.After all, we had been friends for years. All I wanted was a hint of remorse from her, an acknowledgment of the line she had crossed.As I parked in front of the gallery, the emptiness of the space mirrored the hollow feeling in my chest. The lights were off, the windows dark, and not a soul in sight. I stood for a moment, staring at the locked door, a quiet sigh escaping my lips. So, she wasn’t here. And perhaps indoors or something
GENERAL POVOwen pushed the door to his apartment and entered.He shut the door softly behind him, pausing for a second, as though leaving the world outside was not quite enough.He moved with slow, deliberate steps, crossing the room with a weariness that had become second nature to him over the past few days.His face was hard to read; his brows were slightly drawn, lost in thought.When Owen reached his bedroom, he stopped at the center of the room, standing there as though uncertain of what to do next.His eyes were scanning the space, landing on nothing in particular, and for a long moment, he didn’t move.The room felt too big, too empty. It swallowed him whole.With a heavy sigh, his hand reached up to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, slowly. The fabric fell away from his body, and he carelessly tossed it onto the bed. He stood shirtless and then made to sit down on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely as his head hung low.For day