BerniceThe shrill ringing of my phone pierced through the veil of sleep, dragging me reluctantly into consciousness. I fumbled blindly for the device, my hand groping across the nightstand until I finally grasped it."Hello?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep."Bernice, why are you still sleeping? It's already ten o'clock!" Cathy's voice, far too loud and far too cheerful, blasted through the speaker.Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I bolted upright, suddenly wide awake. "What? Ten o'clock?"I glanced around the room, noticing for the first time that Christian's side of the bed was empty and neatly made. Sure enough, he had already left for work. Shit. This was the second time in the past few days that I had overslept."Fuck," I groaned, running a hand through my tangled hair. "Why did I oversleep again?"Cathy's evil laugh crackled through the phone. "What's wrong? Had a sleepless night with your Christian last night?"I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, remembering t
BerniceAs Cathy's laughter faded into the distance, I found myself standing on the sun-drenched sidewalk, feeling lighter than I had in years. The weight of my impending divorce from Fed, which had been pressing down on me for so long, suddenly felt more like a set of wings than a burden.On a whim, I decided to give myself the rest of the day off. After all, it's not every day you finalize your divorce from a manipulative sociopath, right? I deserved a little celebration.Ever since I'd been given this second chance at life, divorcing Fed had been my primary goal. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but now that it was actually happening, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. I, Bernice Stephen, had done it. I'd reclaimed my life, my freedom, and my future.As I wandered through the bustling city streets, my mind drifted to Christian. I pulled out my phone, my fingers hovering over his contact for a moment before I hit 'call'."Hey, beautiful," his warm voice came through after just tw
BerniceI frowned, worry creeping in. "Christian, are you sure about this? It could be dangerous."He turned to face me fully, his eyes blazing with determination. "I'm sure, Bernie. It's time for the truth to come out. For my mother to finally have justice."We were standing so close now that I could feel his breath on my face. The air between us seemed to crackle with electricity, a mix of shared pain and unspoken desire.Before I could respond, Christian closed the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a deep, searing kiss. I melted into him, my arms winding around his neck as he pulled me closer.When we finally parted, both breathless, Christian rested his forehead against mine. "Ms. Stephen," he murmured, a hint of playfulness creeping back into his voice, "would you like to go to Paris with me next week? I seem to remember you promising me something."I pretended to think for a moment, tapping my chin dramatically. "Paris? Hmm, I'm not sure what you're talking about,
BerniceThe courtroom was silent, save for the soft rustling of papers and the occasional cough. I sat on the hard wooden bench, my parents on either side of me, our eyes fixed on the slight figure in the defendant's dock. Melissa looked so small, so vulnerable, her shoulders hunched as if trying to make herself invisible.As I watched her, tears making her eyes bright and fearful, I was suddenly transported back in time. I remembered a much younger Melissa, no more than eight years old, clinging to my arm as we lay in bed. She had been afraid of the dark then, her face wearing that same expression of fear and uncertainty.We had lost so much since those innocent days. The path that led us here had been fraught with pain, betrayal, and misunderstandings. But as I looked at my cousin – my sister in all but blood – I felt a surge of protectiveness. Whatever had happened in the past, Melissa needed us now more than ever.The bailiff's voice cut through my reverie. "All rise. Court is now
BerniceThe automatic doors of Whole Foods slid open with a soft whoosh, releasing a blast of cool air scented with fresh produce and artisanal breads. I pushed the cart forward, Melissa by my side, as my parents trailed behind us. The four of us must have looked like quite the sight – still dressed in our court attire, but with grins plastered across our faces."Okay, team," I said, adopting an exaggerated military tone, "we've got a mission. Operation: Feast of Freedom. What's our game plan?"Melissa let out a soft laugh, the sound still unfamiliar but warming my heart nonetheless. "I vote we start with dessert and work our way backwards."My mother clucked her tongue in mock disapproval. "Now, now, let's be sensible. We'll start with produce and work our way through the store. That way, we won't forget anything important.""Yes, ma'am," I saluted, earning an eye roll from Mom and another laugh from Melissa.As we made our way through the produce section, I couldn't help but marvel
BerniceAs we gathered around, Dad opened the album with trembling hands. The first page revealed a photograph that took my breath away. There, smiling up at us with eyes that crinkled at the corners, was a young woman who could have been Melissa's twin. Lilian, captured in the golden light of a long-ago summer, her chestnut hair dancing in an unseen breeze. Her arm was slung casually around a much younger version of my father, both of them laughing at some forgotten joke."Oh, Dad," I whispered, reaching for his hand. His fingers intertwined with mine, squeezing gently.Melissa leaned in, her finger delicately tracing the outline of her mother's face. "She looks so happy," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "So... free."Dad nodded, his eyes misty. "That was Lilian all over. She had this infectious joy about her, like she knew some wonderful secret that the rest of the world hadn't figured out yet."We turned the page, and a kaleidoscope of memories spilled out before us. There
BerniceThe news hit like a bombshell, sending shockwaves through the financial world and beyond. I stared at the TV screen in disbelief as the crisp-voiced anchor delivered the story that would dominate headlines for weeks to come."In a shocking turn of events, Aaron Miller, founder and majority shareholder of the Miller Group, along with his wife Elina Miller, have been taken into custody by the FBI in connection with a 13-year-old murder case," the anchor announced, her perfectly coiffed hair barely moving as she leaned forward slightly. "Sources close to the investigation reveal that the couple is accused of poisoning Aaron Miller's first wife, Doris Miller, in what appears to be a carefully orchestrated plot."The screen split to show footage of Aaron and Elina being led out of their mansion in handcuffs, both looking shell-shocked and disheveled."But the allegations don't stop there," the anchor continued, her tone grave. "The FBI raid has also uncovered evidence of widespread
BerniceThe sun was setting as we pulled into the hotel parking lot, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. Christian eased the Bugatti into a spot, throwing it into park with a resigned sigh."Well," he said, turning to me with a wry smile, "I guess dinner's on us tonight."I patted his arm consolingly. "There's always tomorrow, Speed Racer."As if on cue, Taylor's Aston Martin came roaring into the lot, tires screeching as it pulled up beside us. Cathy practically tumbled out of the passenger side, her hair wild and a maniacal grin on her face."Victory!" she crowed, doing a little dance that looked suspiciously like the Carlton from "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air." "Oh, sweet, sweet victory! How do you like them apples, Mr. 'I Have a Bugatti'?"Christian rolled his eyes good-naturedly as we got out of the car. "Yes, yes, congratulations on your completely fair and not at all reckless win."Taylor emerged from the driver's side, looking slightly green. "Next time," he sa
BerniceThe gentle sea breeze ruffled my hair as I stood on the balcony of our Hamptons beach house, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Ten years had passed since that first charity gala, a decade filled with more love, laughter, and fulfillment than I could have ever imagined."Penny for your thoughts?" Christian's voice came from behind me, as familiar and comforting as ever.I turned, smiling as he handed me a glass of wine. "Just reflecting. It's hard to believe it's been ten years."Christian nodded, leaning against the railing beside me. "Ten amazing years. And you know what? I have a feeling the best is still to come."As if on cue, the sound of children's laughter floated up from the beach below. I looked down to see Hope, now fourteen, chasing her younger siblings, seven-year-old Ethan and five-year-old Olivia, through the surf. Melissa and Alex's twins, eight-year-old Sophie and Lucas, were building an elaborate sandcastle nearby."Should we call them in for dinner?" I
BerniceThe grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel buzzed with excitement as New York's elite mingled, their designer gowns and tuxedos glittering under the chandeliers. I smoothed down the front of my own gown - a midnight blue creation that Cathy had insisted I wear - and scanned the room, making sure everything was in place for our charity gala."Relax, Bernie," Christian murmured in my ear, his hand warm on the small of my back. "Everything looks perfect."I turned to him, drinking in the sight of him in his tuxedo. Even after all these years, he still took my breath away. "I know, I know. I just want tonight to be perfect. We've worked so hard on this."Christian smiled, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. "It will be perfect. The Edward Hamilton Foundation's first major fundraiser - how could it be anything but?"I nodded, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. We had spent months planning this gala, bringing together all our friends and family to support the foundation's mission of
BerniceThe soft spring breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers through Central Park as I watched Melissa and Alex stroll hand in hand ahead of me. Christian walked beside me, pushing Hope's stroller as our daughter babbled happily, pointing at the colorful tulips lining the path."They look happy," I murmured to Christian, nodding towards Melissa and Alex.Christian smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "They do. It's nice to see Melissa like this, isn't it? So carefree and content."I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. After everything Melissa had been through, seeing her find happiness with Alex felt like a small miracle.As we approached the Bethesda Fountain, I noticed Alex becoming increasingly fidgety. He kept reaching into his pocket, his face a mix of nervousness and excitement. I nudged Christian, raising an eyebrow in silent question. He nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips."You knew, didn't you?" I whispered accusingly.Christian shrugged,
BerniceThe shrill ring of my phone pierced through the peaceful silence of our bedroom at an ungodly hour. I fumbled for it, nearly knocking over the lamp in my sleep-addled state."Hello?" I mumbled, squinting at the too-bright screen."BERNICE!" Cathy's voice exploded through the speaker, causing me to jerk the phone away from my ear. "I need you! It's an emergency! "I sat up, instantly alert. "Cathy? What's wrong? Is Lily okay?""Lily? Oh, she's fine. Sleeping like an angel, the little traitor," Cathy huffed. "No, it's much worse. I'm filing for divorce!"I blinked, trying to process this information. "Divorce?! Cathy, what are you talking about?""I'm leaving Taylor!" she wailed dramatically. "I can't take it anymore, Bernie. He's driving me insane! Do you know what he did?""What did he do?" I asked cautiously, already suspecting this was going to be something ridiculous."He left his socks on the floor. AGAIN!" Cathy's voice rose to a pitch that I'm sure only dogs could hear.
BerniceThe familiar New York skyline greeted us as our car wound its way through the city streets. After the rugged beauty of Scotland, the urban landscape felt both jarring and comforting. Hope was fast asleep in her car seat, her new stuffed highland cow clutched tightly to her chest."Home sweet home," Christian murmured, his hand finding mine in the space between us.As we pulled up to our building, I saw the doorman, George, step forward to help with our luggage. His familiar face broke into a warm smile as he saw us."Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Miller," he said, opening the car door. "How was your trip?""Wonderful, George, thank you," Christian replied, carefully lifting the still-sleeping Hope from her car seat. "But it's good to be home."I followed them into the building, my mind already racing with all the things we needed to do. Unpack, sort through mail, check in with work... The list seemed endless.As we entered our apartment, the silence enveloped us. After the bustle
BerniceThe early morning sun streamed through the windows of our Paris apartment, casting a golden glow over the scattered suitcases and travel documents strewn across the bed. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my blouse and taking a deep breath. Today was the day we'd been planning for weeks - our family trip to Scotland, to Christian's ancestral home."Mama! Mama!" Hope's excited voice preceded her as she toddled into the room, her little arms outstretched. I scooped her up, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek."Are you ready for our big adventure, sweetheart?" I asked, smoothing down her unruly curls.Hope nodded enthusiastically. "See sheep!" she declared, her face lighting up with joy.I laughed, remembering the picture books of Scotland we'd been reading to her. "That's right, we're going to see lots of sheep. And castles, and lochs, and maybe even a highland cow or two."Christian appeared in the doorway, looking handsome in a casual sweater and jeans. The pendant I'd
BerniceThe soft glow of my desk lamp cast shadows across the scattered sketches and gemstones before me. It was well past midnight, but sleep eluded me. I was searching for a way to help Christian through his mourning.I picked up a rough sapphire, turning it over in my palm. Its deep blue reminded me of Edward's eyes, always twinkling with mischief and kindness. An idea began to form in my mind, a way to capture a piece of Edward's spirit in something tangible that Christian could carry with him.With renewed energy, I began to sketch. The design took shape under my pencil - a simple yet elegant pendant. A teardrop-shaped sapphire, surrounded by a delicate filigree of white gold, designed to look like the intertwining branches of a family tree. At the base of the pendant, almost hidden within the metalwork, I planned to engrave Edward's initials and the coordinates of his favorite spot in Paris - a bench in the Jardin des Tuileries where he used to take Christian as a boy.As the fi
BerniceIt was a moment of pure magic, tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that it might be one of Edward's last.The night stretched on, marked by Edward's labored breathing and occasional coughs. His skin had taken on a grayish pallor, and his cheeks seemed more sunken than ever. Every so often, his eyes would flutter open, unfocused and glassy, before closing again.Dr. Fournier entered the room for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He checked Edward's vitals with practiced efficiency, his brow furrowing as he noted the dropping blood pressure and weakening pulse. "We've increased his morphine dosage," he murmured to Christian. "He shouldn't be in any pain now."Edward's fingers twitched sporadically against the bedsheet, and his breathing became more irregular - sometimes rapid and shallow, then pausing for long, terrifying moments before resuming. The oxygen mask fogged rhythmically with each exhale, a visual reminder of his continuing fight.As dawn approached, Edw
BerniceChristian rushed in, followed closely by Dr. Fournier. For the next few minutes, the room was a flurry of activity as the doctor checked Edward's vitals and responses.Slowly, miraculously, Edward's eyes fluttered open. They were unfocused at first, but then they found Christian's face."Chris... Christian," he rasped, his voice barely audible around the breathing tube.Christian's face broke into a smile, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'm here, Grandfather. I'm right here."Dr. Fournier quickly removed the breathing tube, replacing it with an oxygen mask. "Mr. Hamilton," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Try not to speak too much. You've been through quite an ordeal."Edward nodded weakly, his eyes never leaving Christian's face. He lifted a shaky hand, which Christian immediately grasped."I'm sorry," Edward whispered. "I'm so sorry."Christian frowned, confused. "Sorry? Grandfather, you have nothing to be sorry for. You're going to be okay. You're going to get better