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CHAPTER 143: Façade of Friendship
Last Updated:
2024-07-17 17:30:24
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Jane Seeking my brother Philip's advice, I came to Highland Hills, desperate for his support during this difficult time. For four years, I managed the modeling agency, a sub-company of Luminary Productions in London and Paris. Alongside my career, I continued therapy to address my past traumas. The weekly sessions, though often painful, have gradually cleared my mind. To atone for what I did to Sarah, I devoted myself to my work. My marriage to Brody Martin has been nothing more than a well-orchestrated charade—a typically arranged marriage designed to benefit our families rather than our hearts. He owns a chemical empire and is a cousin of the brothers Bronn and Jakob. Philip spoke after hearing my story. "You mean to say, after you returned from Paris, you found your husband in the apartment at The Strata with his secretary? And at that moment, you decided to end your four-year marriage? Now you're here, asking me to break the news to Dad that your marriage with Brody didn't wor
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Jane My heart pounded as the weight of an arm draped across my body. "Ahhhh!" I screamed, instinctively recoiling from the unexpected touch. Beside me, Brody jolted upright, eyes wide with alarm. "What the hell, Jane?!" he exclaimed, his voice hoarse from sleep. A rush of memories from our last encounter flooded my mind. I pointed an accusatory finger at him, confused about why he was there with me. "W-what the hell are you doing here?" I stopped short, taking in the unfamiliar room. It was spacious and elegantly furnished, with large windows framing an unknown view. "Shit! W-where am I?" A serene landscape greeted me outside the window, with lush green leaves and colorful flowers swaying gently in the breeze. "Calm down, alright? You're at my place in Henderson," he said, his tone calm and reassuring. "Your place? How?" I could hardly believe it. I'd met Brody in Europe, and we'd been together there for four years. He never mentioned owning a home in Nevada. It wouldn't
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Jane For three more days, I focused on work at Luminary Productions in Highland Hills. Despite the familiar surroundings, I found little comfort as I prepared to return to London next week. Brody kept calling me several times, and Sonia also kept sending me messages. Sonia's texts grew increasingly venomous: Sonia: 'Jane, don't think that Brody loves you. He's struggling to keep his good public image and manage office politics. Your separation would ruin his company. Face it—the only reason he's staying in this sham of a marriage is because of your Cornell surname.' Her next message dripped with hostility: Sonia: 'Stop being a bitch! You're making things hard for Brody. Because of you, there are problems here at the office.' I swiftly reported her number as a scammer and blocked her. Why does it seem like I'm the one at fault? Seriously! With trembling hands, I fired off a text to Brody: 'Tell your mistress to stop disturbing me, or else she'll face my lawyer!' The constant
Last Updated : 2024-07-24
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The Second Marriage Chance [English] SPECIAL CHAPTER 3
Jane "Jane!" Brody's voice echoed through the hallway, making me freeze. Oh no! He was really here. My heart raced as I approached the door and peeked through the peephole. Brody was on the other side, his broad shoulders filling the frame. His usual neat look was a bit messy—his necktie was crooked, his top button undone, and a hint of stubble darkened his jaw. Should I open the door? "I know you're there, Jane," he said, his voice low and steady. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turned the lock. The click felt loud in the quiet. When the door opened, our eyes met, and the months apart vanished instantly. Brody's eyes scanned my face, lingering on my swollen eyes that showed I'd been crying. I saw a mix of emotions pass over his face: concern, guilt, and something more intense. Without a word, he stepped inside. The scent of his cologne enveloped me as he pushed the heavy oak door closed with his foot. Before I could gather my thoughts, his hands cupped my face, thumbs gentl
The Second Marriage Chance [English] SPECIAL CHAPTER 2
Jane When did I genuinely start falling for him so deeply? It was that night four years ago, during a crisp autumn in London. Brody was abroad on a business trip. I was overworked and sick at the time. I had just returned from Paris, feeling dizzy as I stepped into our penthouse in Mayfair. I sneezed as I texted him. Me: 'Just got back from a business trip. What do you want for dinner?' Almost instantly, Brody replied: 'I'm on a business trip in New York. You didn't tell me you were coming back today.' I had wanted to surprise him, so I kept my return a secret. But he hadn't mentioned his trip to me either. Me: 'Alright! Take care!' My nose, already raw and red from constant sneezing, throbbed as I hit send. I dragged myself to the ensuite bathroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind me. The hot shower offered momentary relief, but the room began to spin uncontrollably as I stepped out, wrapped in Brody's oversized bathrobe. I collapsed onto our king-sized bed. The e
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Jane Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched Philip and Sarah's fairy-tale wedding. We were in Dubai, at Grandpa Mitchell's mansion, surrounded by a small circle of close friends and family, all gathered to witness the couple's intimate vows. Yet, as they exchanged their promises of love, a deep sense of incompleteness washed over me. Perhaps there's truth in the saying that when life becomes a cycle of repetition—office, work, the Cornell mansion, and back again—you start to feel like something important is missing. After the ceremony, I embraced Sarah tightly, tears threatening to spill. "Congratulations, love!" The celebration continued, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I knew I needed to return to London to calm my churning emotions. "Auntie Jane, are you alright?" Iris asked, her voice full of concern as she sat beside me at the round table with Rowan by her side. I plastered on a smile, hoping it looked genuine. "Yes, sweetheart. Why do you ask?" "You look sad." I manage
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Sarah My father, Mr. Benner, contacted me again. After years of estrangement, I decided it was time to meet him and finally confront our tumultuous past. Accompanied by Trey, I arrived at the hotel suite where he was staying. His assistant, a woman in her thirties, greeted us at the door with a smile. "Good afternoon, Ms. Mitchell!" she said warmly. "Hello," I managed. "Please, come in," she said, stepping aside to let me enter. I walked across the plush carpet until I saw Mr. Benner. My father, once a towering figure of authority, now sat in a wheelchair. His once jet-black hair had faded to steel gray, and deep lines etched his face. It had been a long time since he had disowned me. "I'm so happy to see you, Sarah," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "You've lost so much weight, my dear…" 'My dear…' I approached him, extending a carefully wrapped package. "I brought you something," I said, "Three first editions by Haruki Murakami. Your favorite." He smiled appreci
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Sarah Philip gently removed my simple white dress, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and concern as he took in my changed appearance. "W-why are you doing this? Philip, I just came out of a coma. I'm not ready for anything... physical." I said honestly. After nearly two years of medical interventions, my body was still fragile, and I had only been recovering for a month. His gaze softened immediately. "Oh, Sarah, no. That's not why… I'm not trying to take advantage of you. It's just that…" He examined my skin and my arm, which had thinned considerably. I felt a bit uncomfortable with what he was doing. "You've lost so much weight." A flicker of insecurity flashed through me. I pouted and squinted at him. "What do you mean by that? Do you find me unattractive?" "No, no. No, babe!" he vehemently denied. "That's not what I meant. It's just…" It took a while before Philip continued. "I vividly remember the day Marcus shot you. Your last appearance is etched in my mind. I
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Sarah It felt like drifting through an endless dream, each moment stretching into eternity. After my firstborn's death, grief enveloped me like a suffocating shroud. I retreated, closing my heart and mind to the outside world. Joy became a foreign concept, a distant memory I could no longer grasp. Nothing could penetrate the fog of my sorrow because deep down, I knew I was fundamentally broken—I was not okay. Just like then, my mind feels closed off, wrapped in a thick layer of ice. Driving aimlessly, stopping several times to watch the setting sun. I'm heading into darkness, but whenever I hear my children's voices... Philip... these beloved sounds tug at me, urging me to turn back towards the fading light. But why did I also hear my mother's voice? I resume my journey. The world around me has been leached of color as if a cosmic artist has erased all pigment from the canvas of reality. I'm traveling through an endless road surrounded by empty deserts. The monotony should be
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Philip A week passed, then two, then three… Ethan eventually had to ask me to leave, as some patients needed the hospital's facilities more. "I can visit you at Serenity Pines, or even drop by Luminary Productions if you need someone to clean your wounds," Ethan offered. I remained silent. I wanted to stay at the hospital because Sarah was here. Fear gnawed at my chest, making sleep impossible. I was paralyzed by the terror of receiving the devastating news that my wife had passed away, that her body had finally given out, or any other heart-wrenching update while she was out of my reach. As much as I wanted to stay by Sarah's side, I couldn't longer ignore our children's needs. Iris and Rowan needed stability and a bit of normalcy. The hospital, with its sick patients and germs, wasn't a good place for a four-year-old to stay. Rowan's small voice interrupted my thoughts while I changed into a clean t-shirt in my ward, trying to gather the energy to face another day. "Uncle Eth
