***DON'T FORGET TO ADD THE STORY TO YOUR LIBRARY, #Comment #Like #SUPPORT #SherahHawke #EthanFarwell Feel free to check my other stories here: Hey, Stranger! Goodbye My Love & Alpha's Last Chance
The rain dwindled.The howling wind had finally stilled, and gentle rays of sunlight began piercing through the once-dark clouds, casting a warm hue over the wet roads.The Hawke family was still on their journey back home when Rebecca’s phone buzzed with a message. She opened it without thinking, eyes scanning the screen quickly—then freezing.Her hand trembled and it didn't go unnoticed. “What is it, Mom?” Sophia asks while fixing her makeup.Rebecca didn’t respond but handed her phone to Sophia.“Shit!” She muttered.Silas leaned over to read the message.~Amadeus Scott, Newark Police Department Detective.~“Didn’t you take care of the loose ends?” he asks. Sophia turned her head to look at the car. “I did. I paid them, and they never asked for more,” she pointed out as uneasiness crawled into her skin. “Maybe he is just passing by?” Rebecca claimed.Silas knew this was not the case. He sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose, the pent-up annoyance slowly spilling out. He
Ethan stood tall in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, the golden urn clutched tightly in his hands. He stared at his reflection—but all he could see was loss.His eyes were hollow, sunken with sleepless nights. His once-pristine hair now hung in disheveled strands, lips cracked and dry, and a rough shadow of stubble darkened his jaw. He looked nothing like the man he used to be. He looked like a ghost. An empty shell. He knew he was already holding what was left of her—what remained of Sherah. Their child. The future he failed to protect in his arms. And yet, he found himself there, searching, digging through the emptiness of their old room like some part of her might’ve stayed behind.But she hadn’t. She took everything with her when she left. Every clothing, every photo, every trace of her scent. Gone.The air felt colder now, heavier. As if even the warmth of memory had turned its back on him.He wanted to die. He wanted to join Sherah and their unborn child,
After four long months of solitude, with Madam Farwell’s persistent persuasion, Ethan finally stepped out of his room.He looked smaller, colder, and shattered beyond recognition.With the help of James and Allan, he returned to the Farwell Group to face the mountain of pending tasks no one else dared to touch. His secretary, Noel, had handled what he could, but some decisions only Ethan could make.Ethan tried his best to act like everything was normal, if only to escape the concerned, pitiful gazes of his grandmother, his friends, and his employees.But he hadn’t come back just to stabilize the company—he came back to make it thrive. To take it to heights, Sherah would’ve been proud of. He buried himself in work, attended charity events, and showed up at galas he once dreamed of attending with her. But despite all his efforts, the void remained—widening, deepening, threatening to pull him under. And some days… he wanted it to.Still, his grandmother was right—he had to live the life
After Ethan’s meltdown, Madam Farwell hired the best psychologist for him. With the help of therapy—and a long, painful journey inward—Ethan finally found the strength to let go of the urn.It didn’t happen in a single session. There were months of silence, of clenched fists and deflected questions. But eventually, the mask cracked, and behind it was a man exhausted by grief, haunted by memories, and yearning for peace.His therapist didn’t push him. Instead, they guided him gently, helping him unpack the guilt that festered like rot beneath his skin. It took time, but Ethan began to realize that clinging to the urn wasn’t keeping Sherah and Sean close—it was keeping him stuck at the moment they were taken from him.One quiet afternoon, with trembling hands and a heavy heart, Ethan made the decision.He bought a plot of land in the cemetery—a quiet, sun-dappled space beneath a cluster of trees. A place Sherah would’ve loved for picnics. A place where their son might’ve taken his first
For the last five years, laughter has echoed in the Farwell mansion and tonight is no different.At the center of the room, Sherah and Ethan Farwell, a perfect couple in the eyes of many, moved in perfect harmony. The delicate sound of classical music filled the air, the melody weaving a spell that seemed to halt time itself. Sherah, the lady of the house, was radiant in her white silk pajamas, the fabric shimmering in the chandelier’s glow with each graceful turn. Her husband, Ethan, looks dashing, with his perfect smile, brown eyes, and dark brown hair, clad in a tailored suit that emphasizes his strong frame. He held her close. His movements were fluid, his touch tender yet confident.Their eyes met, and the world beyond the mansion faded into insignificance. Ethan’s hand rested lightly on Sherah's back, guiding her effortlessly across the floor. Her fingers curled around his shoulder, their connection intimate and unspoken.Though their dance seemed choreographed by years of pra
Sherah almost stumbled to the floor when Ethan said, "She wants to, but I don't..." He uttered with certainty. James' brows furrowed in confusion, "Does she know about this?""No. She thought I was up for it. She didn’t know that I made sure she wouldn't carry my child. I paid a doctor to prescribe strong contraceptives to her. I told her it's vitamins to help us conceive," he explains proudly.James felt sick in his stomach. "You're a terrible person. It's because of Sophia again, isn't it? She left you broken when you needed her the most; have you forgotten that?" he pointed out."Yeah, she did, but we spoke about it when we met in Australia. She told me why she left. She said she was sick and didn't want to hinder my success.“—And you believe her?” James intervenes. He is clearly not pleased with his friend's choices.Ethan nodded vigorously, “Yes. I do. I should have waited for her instead of using her sister to spite her." He answered in disappointment.James shook his head in
James’s heart pounded loudly on his chest. At the same time, Sherah clenches the hem of her dress tightly and pretends to be oblivious.She lets out a faint smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. "Good afternoon, Mr. Lee. Is Ethan inside?" She asks as she shoves all the things she hears in the depths of her mind.James grinned awkwardly, "What's with calling me Mister? James would suffice." He then nods in guilt. “Yes, he is. I think you arrived just in time. He said he was starving... He's so hungry that he starts talking nonsense,” he added playfully while staring at the lunchbox in her hand. "Poor woman," he uttered to himself.She bowed her head, hiding the ache in her heart, and headed to Ethan’s office.When she got inside, she displayed her best smile as if she heard nothing.But deep inside, her mind was in chaos. Her mind is racing. Everything she knew about him went down the drain. Like a shattered mirage that kept her blind for 5 years.“I’m a stand-in.”"He never loved me?"
As Ethan ate a spoonful of the lunch Sherah had prepared, he couldn’t help but recollect James’ comments.~How do you think she would react? She loves you dearly, Ethan. All these years she thought you felt the same.~The memory made it hard for him to swallow his meal. He soon realizes that in the near future, he won’t get to eat any of her food.He almost choked when he recollected her weird behavior, and as he thought deeply he could no longer brush it off.She always greets him with a kiss when she sees him, and before leaving, she even sits on his lap while reading documents on his table—earlier she did none of that. He bit his lower lip, “Did she hear the conversation I had with James?” He contemplated and felt a sore spot in his chest. He shook his head, trying to remove the idea from his mind, “If she did. She’ll be mad for sure.” Ethan knows that Sherah always speaks her mind when she’s happy or sad, especially when she's mad. During their five years of marriage, Sherah alwa
After Ethan’s meltdown, Madam Farwell hired the best psychologist for him. With the help of therapy—and a long, painful journey inward—Ethan finally found the strength to let go of the urn.It didn’t happen in a single session. There were months of silence, of clenched fists and deflected questions. But eventually, the mask cracked, and behind it was a man exhausted by grief, haunted by memories, and yearning for peace.His therapist didn’t push him. Instead, they guided him gently, helping him unpack the guilt that festered like rot beneath his skin. It took time, but Ethan began to realize that clinging to the urn wasn’t keeping Sherah and Sean close—it was keeping him stuck at the moment they were taken from him.One quiet afternoon, with trembling hands and a heavy heart, Ethan made the decision.He bought a plot of land in the cemetery—a quiet, sun-dappled space beneath a cluster of trees. A place Sherah would’ve loved for picnics. A place where their son might’ve taken his first
After four long months of solitude, with Madam Farwell’s persistent persuasion, Ethan finally stepped out of his room.He looked smaller, colder, and shattered beyond recognition.With the help of James and Allan, he returned to the Farwell Group to face the mountain of pending tasks no one else dared to touch. His secretary, Noel, had handled what he could, but some decisions only Ethan could make.Ethan tried his best to act like everything was normal, if only to escape the concerned, pitiful gazes of his grandmother, his friends, and his employees.But he hadn’t come back just to stabilize the company—he came back to make it thrive. To take it to heights, Sherah would’ve been proud of. He buried himself in work, attended charity events, and showed up at galas he once dreamed of attending with her. But despite all his efforts, the void remained—widening, deepening, threatening to pull him under. And some days… he wanted it to.Still, his grandmother was right—he had to live the life
Ethan stood tall in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, the golden urn clutched tightly in his hands. He stared at his reflection—but all he could see was loss.His eyes were hollow, sunken with sleepless nights. His once-pristine hair now hung in disheveled strands, lips cracked and dry, and a rough shadow of stubble darkened his jaw. He looked nothing like the man he used to be. He looked like a ghost. An empty shell. He knew he was already holding what was left of her—what remained of Sherah. Their child. The future he failed to protect in his arms. And yet, he found himself there, searching, digging through the emptiness of their old room like some part of her might’ve stayed behind.But she hadn’t. She took everything with her when she left. Every clothing, every photo, every trace of her scent. Gone.The air felt colder now, heavier. As if even the warmth of memory had turned its back on him.He wanted to die. He wanted to join Sherah and their unborn child,
The rain dwindled.The howling wind had finally stilled, and gentle rays of sunlight began piercing through the once-dark clouds, casting a warm hue over the wet roads.The Hawke family was still on their journey back home when Rebecca’s phone buzzed with a message. She opened it without thinking, eyes scanning the screen quickly—then freezing.Her hand trembled and it didn't go unnoticed. “What is it, Mom?” Sophia asks while fixing her makeup.Rebecca didn’t respond but handed her phone to Sophia.“Shit!” She muttered.Silas leaned over to read the message.~Amadeus Scott, Newark Police Department Detective.~“Didn’t you take care of the loose ends?” he asks. Sophia turned her head to look at the car. “I did. I paid them, and they never asked for more,” she pointed out as uneasiness crawled into her skin. “Maybe he is just passing by?” Rebecca claimed.Silas knew this was not the case. He sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose, the pent-up annoyance slowly spilling out. He
As the rain mellowed, the guests, one by one, left the villa.Grandma, exhausted from everything, talked to James and Allan to continue entertaining the guests who were still in the villa while she rested upstairs. The two men gladly agreed.Before Grandma left the living room, Eliot and Harlene stood up and spoke to bid her goodbye and once again give their condolences.Madam Farwell smiled at them. "Aren't you Anders Carlisle's son?" She asked curiously. Eliot nods. “And this is my fiancée, Harlene Campbell. We are Sherah's friends."“Really?” Madam Farwell expressed in disbelief, then smiled faintly, “I’m glad you could come. I never thought this day would come that Ethan would let a Carlisle inside his home.” She mumbled with exhaustion in her voice. Eliot bowed his head while Harlene gave a faint smile as they headed to the door when suddenly Dahlia ran towards them and handed Eliot a small paper bag. “The young master said this belongs to you.”He opened it and saw the gloves S
The Farwell Villa living room was hushed, steeped in mourning. It began to rain as if the world was in sync with Ethan’s sorrow. Simple drizzle became something stronger as if the gods were in a rage. The wild wind howled forcefully, pushing the windows and doors to open. The servants hurriedly check every door and window in the villa, ensuring that the rainwater won’t damage anything. The wind kept whistling, almost drowning the mourner's sobs and small talks about how they met the deceased. Amid everything, Ethan remained seated near the urn. His face expressed grief, and the dark circles in his eyes showed that sleep had eluded him. Aside from that, there was something dangerous in his eyes—something that only a man who had lost everything could understand—a taste for blood. The urge to hunt down the people who did it. As Ethan’s thoughts flew somewhere else.Farwell Group employees, stakeholders, and investors arrived to give their condolences. Despite that, none of them wan
Somewhere in Canada…Nathan sat comfortably on the chair near the bedside, book in hand, and seemed bored out of his mind. His mother specifically ordered him to watch over Sherah and never leave her side. “And they live happily ever after…” he expressed in an unimpressed tone as he read the ending of Cinderella out loud and then closed the book forcefully.Aside from his voice and the buzzing and occasional beeping sound of the machine, everything is silent, and it's driving him insane. He bit his lower lip, “Might as well put me inside a mental ward.” He mumbled as he glanced around the sterile white room.He inched close to Sherah, who was in a coma. “Hey!” he whispered in her ear. “You already woke up days ago. Why did you sleep again?” he asks playfully. Beneath the thick bandages, he noticed her eyelashes fluttering. He smiled, “They say coma patients can hear.” He stated as he held her cold hand. “Let me tell you something… You need to wake up as soon as possible because if
Days passed, and as Sophia expected, Sebastian dodged the police.Sophia smiled from ear to ear while staring at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the luxury boutique fitting area. “He didn’t even try to clear his name and accuse me of orchestrating everything,” she mumbled under her breath with a glimmer of satisfaction and pride while she happily tried on different expensive clothes.She was planning to purchase the most daring colorful dress she could find. Without a care in the world that her actions are inappropriate—but why would she care if she was the person who planned it? Now that the biggest obstacle is gone, she is scheming to win Ethan back, and she is going all out. As she got out of the fitting room, she tossed the clothes to the sales clerk stationed in the lounge.“I hate everything. The designs look outdated.” She snarled.The sales clerk nodded and hastily left to get a new set of wardrobes Sophia could try.While waiting, she sat in the lounge area
Dahlia hurriedly returned to the living room. “Sir, Sebastian’s not in his room,” she announced.“He is not in the kitchen,” Johanna chimed in.Jon, who was breathing heavily, blurted out, “He is not in the garden either.” Ethan’s face contorted in rage, and he ran to Sebastian's room.Allan and James trailing behind him. Ethan rummages through the cabinets; most of his things are still inside, but his documents are gone.“He ran off. God knows where! ” Ethan clamored.James took out his phone. “I’m going to notify the police about this and make sure they’ll put out a BOLO for Sebastian,” he muttered in urgency. “Not good enough,” Ethan mumbled, then gestured to Allan, “You have connections with different news outlets. Put it on the news, and put a 1 million reward on whoever could find him.” He demanded.Allan nodded, and he too began dialing different numbers on his phone. Then Ethan decided to call Brooke for additional help. It's a hard reality to swallow, but he needs to get h