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147. Mick is back
UHASAHello readers, How's Michael going react? What do you think?
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Tuberose 148. Fooled by her Love
Michael's POV - I step out of my sleek BMW, my mind consumed by a whirlwind of thoughts. The past few days have been a blur, filled with meetings, negotiations, and endless flights. But one thought has been a constant companion: Abigail. As I make my way towards the entrance of the Pattinson Empire, I can't help but wonder what has transpired in my absence. My heart aches with a mixture of apprehension and hope. People can stray from their path, influenced by circumstances or the people they meet along the way. Abby might have been misled by William, and it's my duty to find out the truth. The guard at the main gate greets me with a respectful nod and a knowing smile. It's as if they're all privy to something I'm not, and it only adds to the knots in my stomach. Ignoring their peculiar reactions, I enter the building. As I move through the entrance area, the staff members I encounter have a different kind of smile on their faces—warm, welcoming, and laced with anticipation. It's as
Tuberose 149. False Accusation
Abigail's POV - We enter the room and he hugs me from behind. His warmth is my lifeline. "I missed you." I express myself and he turns me to him. He holds my hands, "Can I expect help from you?" I cup his cheeks. "Anything for you, just say it." I rub his cheekbone with my thumb. He is seemingly restless. "Can you lend me some money?" That is now a more worrying thing. "How much?" I think he is having some work trouble. "2 millions." I intend to say yes but after knowing my pregnancy I deposited that amount. "I am so sorry, Mick. Currently, I am out of cash. I bought a home in California and today I deposited the rest of the amount for our baby. I know you have enough, but I thought to give something from my side too." I try to explain myself. "Hmm. Our baby." He smirks and leaves my touch. Why is he behaving like this? I am really confused now. He looks into my eyes, "I need to know something, will you be honest?" I knit my brows. What kind of question is it? However, I nod i
Tuberose 150. Broken Dreams and Silent Promises
Abigail's POV - The words hang in the air, heavy with accusation and hatred. The room feels suffocating as if the walls themselves are closing in on me. His words, like sharp knives, have pierced through my heart, leaving behind wounds that ache with a pain I've never known before. The tears flow freely now, blurring my vision and mingling with the sobs that escape my trembling lips. The walls seem to close in on me as the echoes of his hurtful words reverberate in my mind. Each insult, each accusation, each cruel word he hurled at me felt like a dagger, cutting through the fragile remnants of my heart. I can still feel the sting of the slap that sent me sprawling to the side, my hand instinctively cradling my now-painful abdomen. Tears flow down my cheeks like an unending river, a mixture of anger, betrayal, and despair. How could he say those things? How could he believe that I could betray him in such a way? The pain in my chest is unbearable, but the pain in my abdomen is more i
Tuberose 151. We are apart!
Michael's POV - I can't believe the words that came out of my mouth, the venomous accusations I hurled at Abigail. The weight of them hangs heavily on my conscience, and I can't shake the feeling of regret that's settled deep within me. How could I have said those things? How could I have let anger and doubt cloud my judgment to such an extent? In the solitude of my gym room, I take off my blazer, tie, and shirt, each article of clothing falling to the floor as a symbolic shedding of the facade I've been wearing. The mirror reflects a man filled with self-loathing, his eyes blurry with unshed tears, his chest heaving with anger and frustration. The punching bag bears the brunt of my fury as I strike it with a force that matches the intensity of my emotions. Each punch is a desperate attempt to expel the guilt and confusion that's consuming me from the inside. The bag swings wildly, echoing the chaos in my heart. As I sit on the cold gym floor, a sense of numbness washes over me. I
Tuberose 152. Everything is shattered…
Michael's POV - I step into the living area, my heart heavy with a pain I never anticipated. How did we come to this point? A divorce, a word that once seemed so distant and improbable, is now our reality. If this is the path we must take, then so be it. The lawyer, a paragon of professionalism, awaits me. Time is of the essence, and without delay, he dives into the intricate details of the legal proceedings that lie ahead. His voice is crisp, each word a reminder of the gravity of the situation. "Mr. Pattinson, we must address the matter of alimony," he begins a quick flicker of his eyes over his notes. "You've cited infidelity as the basis for the divorce." I nod solemnly, the word "infidelity" leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. It's a word that carries the weight of betrayal, a word that embodies the irrevocable breach of trust that has shattered the foundation of our marriage. The lawyer's raised eyebrows echo his disbelief. "Abigail Ma'am cheated on you?" His astonishme
Tuberose 153. Nothing left
Abigail's POV - As I rise from my slumber, a sense of determination washes over me. I need to have a calm, rational conversation with Mick. I must understand what has led him to think this way. If he remains as stubborn as he was last night, then perhaps there's no choice but to consider parting ways. I refuse to compromise my self-respect in the face of baseless accusations. It's imperative that he recognizes his boundaries, and he has no alternative but to come clean about his thoughts. With these intentions in mind, I make my way downstairs. I'm prepared to hear him out, to understand his perspective. However, as I reach the staircase, I'm greeted by an unexpected sight. Michael is saying things that are utterly unfounded and filled with filth, casting unwarranted aspersions upon me. At this moment, I realize that I can't simply ignore what he's saying. I need to confront these accusations, delve into his thoughts, and discover what has led him to believe such hurtful things abo
Tuberose 154. Goodbye Forever
Abigail's POV - "What else to do, Dad?" I implore, tears welling up in my eyes. "I don't understand why he's saying he didn't do anything to make me pregnant when he did, I swear it. And accusing me of being with William for money? I have more than enough of my own. I've always worked for myself, even as Mrs. Pattinson. Yet, if he believes I would sell my integrity and claim it in front of the world, then I'm sorry, but I have to leave this man, even if I have to prove myself right." My voice quivers with a mixture of anger, frustration, and hurt. A sharp pain shoots through my abdomen, causing me to gasp and clutch my belly. The stress of this situation is taking a toll on me, and I can feel the strain in every fiber of my being. "Oh please, stop acting like a saint," he retorts, his voice dripping with disdain. "At least not in front of me. I'll give you one more chance to confess and seek forgiveness. Believe me, I'll give my name to this child." His words pierce through the tens
Tuberose 155. Will it be?
Abigail's POV - I step into the room, and every corner seems to whisper our past. It was once our sanctuary, a place where love blossomed, laughter echoed, and dreams intertwined. The walls themselves seem to remember the soft caresses, the shared secrets, and the stolen kisses. It was a room where our hearts danced to a symphony of emotions. Now, the room feels cavernous, echoing with the emptiness of our shattered relationship. The bed, once a place of shared dreams and whispered promises, stands as a silent witness to our love turned sour. I can almost see us, tangled in each other's arms, our laughter ringing in the air as we reveled in each other's company. But those moments are nothing more than fading echoes, distant memories that will never be reclaimed. My eyes fall upon the bathroom door, and I can't help but remember the times he emerged, his hair still damp from the shower, and a towel draped low around his waist. The intimacy of those moments, the vulnerability we share
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