I lowered the phone slowly, feeling a little but scared as I knew that my father must be angry with everything going on about me but I know how to calm him down. I drove in, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Stepping into the house, I saw my father sitting in the middle of the room, his head bowed, both hands resting heavily on his cane. My two older brothers were there too. One lounged in a chair, watching me with a smirk, while the other stood rigidly by our father’s side like a guard dog. I'm sure they must have say something bad about me. Those two had always resented me, my sister and my mother since the first day we step out feet into this house. They were my father’s first wife’s sons, and they blamed us for their mother's death. They claimed their mother died when she found out that her husband had a mistress with a child outside their marriage. And the worst part of it was that it wasn't even up to a month after her death that my mother had moved in
***MAYA'S POV***The night air was cool as I stood on the terrace, counting the stars that scattered across the big sky. Raising up my hand, I let my fingers trace patterns in the air, a small attempt to distract myself from the thoughts weaving through my mind.It had been a long day…A soft breeze ruffled my hair, and I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply, as though inhaling something sweet and calming. And then… there it was—a warm hand slipping around my waist. My heart skipped a beat as his familiar scent, woodsy and rich, filled my senses."Lance," I whispered breathlessly as his lips pressed softly against my neck.How could I not recognize his touch, his scent?He chuckled softly, pulling me closer, murmuring, “I’m back, love.” The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down my spine.I turned slowly to face him, drinking in his features—those familiar eyes and his smile that was bright. Before I could say a word, he leaned in and caught my lips in a deep, hungry kiss, his mouth e
“ Congratulations Mrs Wells, you are two weeks pregnant.” The doctor’s words repeated played on my head as I headed out of the hospital. “Oh my God! Lance and I are having a baby, this is officially the best day ever!” I sequeled in happiness as it was so hard for me to believe that something this amazing could happen to me after everything that I had went through in my marriage with Lance. At the thought of Lance, a slight frown flashed across my face. Lance has been acting totally weird over the last couple of months. He’s getting distance, more angrier at me for making a slight mistake and even hit me few times. It's been four good years since I married Lance. I gave up him everything and abandoned so much for him but he gave me nothing except pain and despair. I knew Lance had always loved another woman; Ashely Miller, the woman who abandoned him. But with this child, I knew everything would change between us. Putting tthe test results on my bag, I walked down the hospita
I got out of my car and headed into the house, only for me to find both my mother-in-law, Laura, and sister-in-law, Morgan, at the entrance of the house with packed boxes. Seeing them like this, surprised me and at first, I actually thought they were traveling somewhere but with their dressing, it definitely doesn't look so. "Heading somewhere?" I asked with a bright smile on my face but Morgan only smirked at me as she replied me in a rude manner. “No, Maya. We’re not going anywhere. You are.” "What do you mean?” "Mom, she's a real drama queen. How can she act like everything's fine when Lance just served her divorce papers on a hot plate?" Morgan's said in a mocking tone that cut deep. What the fuck! They already know about everything? “Let's not say much. Just leave immediately.” My mother-in-law said with a dismissive hand in the air as Morgan continued making jest of me. The smile on my face faded immediately and my shoulders slumped. I really had no idea they already kn
I stumbled down the drenched streets of LA, my clothes clinging to me, heavy and soaked from the rain. Although the downpour had stopped, a bitter chill remained, and each raindrop that lingered felt like an icy needle pressing into my skin. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself, I shivered as a cold wind sliced through the empty streets. As I dragged my heavy feet forward, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a foggy storefront window and for a moment, I froze, staring at the massive figure staring back at me. My eyes roamed over my face, my chest, then to my entire body, and a weary, hollow expression grace onto my face. As I looked at my own reflection, for the first time in my life, I hated what I saw. I hated myself. I hated the way I looked and the way I felt, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Growing up, I’d been teased mercilessly by family members and even mates for my plus-size figure, but I’d found solace in the belief that there were at least three people
I sat on the hard chair of the dimly lit police station with my hands trembling. I had never been to this place and what scared me most about this place was the the loud voices of thugs and criminals. And yet, here I was, caught between regret and humiliation, surrounded by strangers and criminals. I swallowed hard, trying to remind myself that not everyone here was guilty of being here. After all, I wasn’t either. One of the cops from earlier returned and sat across from me, holding a clipboard. His stare was unyielding as he tapped his pen against the paper, a hint of impatience lining his face. “Alright, miss. You need to call someone,” he said, his tone brusque. “You’re facing assault charges.” “ Assault charges?” I repeated and my heart sank as I had no one to call but I couldn't really think of anyone to call…no one except for the family that threw me out and the husband that abandoned me. And only a person without self respect or pride will even think of doing such and tho
After four long years of endurance, endless nights of tears, and the quiet, gnawing ache of one-sided love, here I was—divorced, broken, but not defeated. Eight months ago, I had thought my marriage to Lance left me with nothing but scars and regrets. Yet, as I cradled my daughter Bella, watching her tiny face as she slept, I realized she was my unexpected miracle, my blessing born from pain. Bella yawned softly, her pink, toothless mouth stretching as her tiny hand instinctively reached up, gripping my finger. My heart swelled at the sight of it, remembering the intensity of her birth. The labor pain was like fire coursing through my veins, far more excruciating than anything my mother had described when I wasn still pregnant. But holding Bella now, I felt every ounce of that pain was worth it. I'm now back to my parents house, it was a difficult journey but I'm still trying to reclaim my life back, especially when my parents had lied to everyone that their daughter was studying in
I looked at my father and for a moment I was speechless, disbelief freezing my words. I also glanced at Mom, hoping—no, pleading—for a sign that this was some twisted misunderstanding. But her face mirrored Dad’s expression: as if I was demanding for a child I never have…as I I was crazy, that was how they are looking at me. My body trembled as I now realize what my parents are demanding from me. Yes, I knew that I must pay a price for returning leaving them and then return back….but not this…not with my own daughter. I made the decision to come back home because of her, not to lose her. “No,” I breathed, shaking my head. My lips trembled as I struggled to form words. “Dad… please… tell me this is some kind of horrible joke. Bella… she’s my daughter. She's also your own granddaughter!” Dad’s gaze hardened. “No, she is not! And.. will never be a Roderigo.” He thundered. “ You have humiliated me far enough and now you will abide by my own decisions. That ‘child,’ as you call her, will