President's Second Chance At Love

I awoke with a startle, my heart pounding in my chest. As my eyes adjusted to the soft, golden light filtering through the curtains, I realized I was in an opulent room filled with luxurious items—plush velvet furniture, rich mahogany woodwork, and delicate crystal chandeliers that glittered in the morning sun. This wasn’t my room. I wasn’t supposed to be here. “This is not my room. I’m supposed to be dead,” I thought, my mind racing with confusion and fear. I vividly remembered the horrifying moment when my stepsister and husband had pushed me off a cliff. The sensation of falling, the wind rushing past me, the sheer terror—it all came flooding back. So how had I survived, and more importantly, how had I ended up in this place? My legs trembled as I swung them over the side of the bed and stood up. Each step towards the door felt like a monumental effort, my body weak and unsteady. As I moved, I caught sight of myself in a large, ornate mirror. “This isn’t me,” I whispered, star

After Richard had left, I sat down, my mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The silence of the room felt deafening, amplifying the turmoil within me. Why would a woman harbor so much hatred for her husband I thought about my own past life, how I had always longed for the attention and affection of my husband, Matthew. The memories flooded back, bittersweet and poignant. Matthew and I had married under circumstances that were far from ideal. Our union was arranged by our families, and while I had hoped for love to blossom, it had never quite happened. I was not from a wealthy family, but I was left with a substantial inheritance. My husband had married me with the intention of gaining control of this inheritance. This bitter truth had come to light before the horrifying incident when my stepsister and Anthony had pushed me off the cliff. My life had been marked by struggle and rejection. I had always carried a scar on my face, a disfigurement that had marre

I looked down at my son's disappointed face, my heart ached. His excitement to go out had turned sour after the nanny said my husband had prohibited me from going out. Wanting so eagerly to lift his spirits, I turned to the nanny. "Could you please call my husband? I need to speak with him," I asked, hoping to reason with him and make him understand that I was not like before. The nanny looked at me, slightly hesitant but finally nodded. "Okay, Ma'am." She retrieved the phone and dialed the number that connected directly to Richard's secretary. After a few rings, a voice that dripped with arrogance answered, "Who is this?" The nanny replied, "This is Mr. Richard's wife. She would like to have a word with him." There was a brief pause at the other end of the phone before the secretary's voice returned, colder than before. "He's busy" she said with that, she hung up. I felt so helpless and frustrated because in my former body I was not restricted from moving around since my h

I woke up early, the first rays of dawn barely touching the horizon, to prepare breakfast since I was not able to sleep. I busied myself in the kitchen, and by the time the rest of the house began to stir, breakfast was ready. I had prepared a simple yet hearty meal of apple pie and some pancakes for Tommy. As I was setting the table, I heard footsteps descending the stairs. Looking up, I saw Richard and Tommy coming down together. My heart beat very fast in my chest, like I was running a race. I stared at Richard’s face, and I felt my legs tremble. He was so cute, even with the way his hair was tousled, he still looked good. I guess I was staring for too long. When Richard looked towards me and caught me looking, I quickly averted my gaze as my cheeks burned in embarrassment. At that moment, if there was another word for embarrassment, that was what I was feeling. I felt as if the ground should open up and swallow me whole. My cheeks burned with shame and turned crimson

"Don't 'Ava' me, Richard. Where have you been? Why do you smell like alcohol?" My voice trembled as I confronted him, but he just stared back silently, his eyes distant. "Alright then," I muttered, my heart pounding. "Since you won't answer me, I'll do this my way." I grabbed his hand and led him to the bed, pushing him onto it and climbing on top of him. My breath hitched as I pressed my lips against his, trying to deepen the kiss, but he resisted. Each rejection stung, and tears threatened to spill, but I held them back. I refused to let Richard see me as weak, like my ex-husband had. Standing up, I began to undo the buttons of my nightgown, my fingers trembling. "Ava, what do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to seduce me? If so, I’m not falling for the temptation of a loose woman." he spits out his eyes bearing no emotions. His words cut deep, but I knew there was no turning back. I undid the last button and, after a few shaky breaths, let the fabric slip off my body