Hello readers, The time is here. Something worse is waiting.
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
Abigail's POV - I wake up in a room that exudes luxury from every corner. The opulence of the surroundings momentarily overshadows the pain coursing through my body. It's a struggle to sit up, the ache in my abdomen intensifying. Confusion clouds my mind as I take in my unfamiliar surroundings. Three nurses bustle around me, their faces masked in professional stoicism. I try to speak, my voice trembling, and ask, "Where am I?" But they avoid my questions, their eyes fixated on their tasks as they check my vitals and adjust machines I can't fully comprehend. Desperation fuels my next question, "How's the baby?" I need to know, need reassurance that despite everything that's happened, our child is safe. But the nurses remained silent, their hushed whispers and exchanged glances revealing more than their words ever could. Finally, after my relentless insistence, one of them breaks the deafening silence. Her voice is barely above a whisper, carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken co
Author's POV -[9 months later]As Abigail awakens, she finds herself in a rather wet and unexpected predicament. Without a moment's hesitation, she unleashes a resounding yell, "Miiiiiiiiiccccccccckkkkkkkkkk..."In a remarkable display of Olympic-level sprinting, Michael, wrapped in nothing but a hastily grabbed towel, races out of the washroom, his face an exquisite blend of confusion and concern. "Baby, what happened?"Abigail points to her soggier-than-a-sponge state. "Look at my state, damn it. My water's broken! Take me to the hospital!"Michael, in the middle of trying to don a pair of trousers and an inside-out t-shirt, pauses for a moment, contemplating the situation. "Just a moment, let me wear something."But his fashion crisis is swiftly dismissed as Abigail, with a hint of a smile, quips, "You wore the t-shirt's wrong side.""Leave it. You and the baby are more important." He hastily adjusts his pants and tugs the t-shirt to its rightful orientation. Scooping up Abigail in
***mature content*** Abigail's POV - I am flying in the ninth sky. My every ride and his grip on my hip. I fail to hold for more and cum again. I fail to stay on my knees but his grabs make me get into the missionary position and he is still inside me. He starts thrusting without any warning. I pull him closer. His strong biceps are my pillar now. His joystick is quite large for me to take. Still, it's a pleasure I wanted all the time. There is no manipulation or conspiracy. Only our love and us. He leaves my grip and gets on his knees. Our sweated bodies, heaving chests, and louder exhales are the witness of our pleasure. He brings his dick out and grins at me. "Let's take a 5 minute break. You are so exhausted. I don't want this night to end faster with our tiredness but to keep it alive till dawn or maybe later." He starts kissing me all over my body. I doubt he is leaving an inch to travel his brim against my skin. He again holds my legs and gets on his knees. "It's time for an
Michael's POV -I break the kiss and pull her closer. I make her sit on my thighs and take the ice cream. "Do you know? There is a unique way to have ice cream." I want to start what I wanted for a long time slowly."What is that way, Sir?" She has a shy smile on her lips.I put a little bit of ice cream on her chin and lick it gently. She quivers into my arms. "Mick.""It's my turn. You said that you would let me do everything I wanted after our wedding. So, it's the time. Isn't it?" My husky voice and her ear lobe. Just a perfect combination. I am sucking her ear lobe and she is releasing a slow moan."Did I say no?" I grin at her reply."I want to put you into the swimming pool and get inside you but that might be later. It's not going to be two or three rounds. Maybe the whole night." I am on her neck now. My grip is around her so tight that I will not allow her to move if I don't want to."Anywhere or anything. I am okay with everything." Our love is now at the peak of lust.I lif
Abigail's POV -Our wedding day, and it holds an even more special significance this time—it's our 3rd anniversary. Mick chose this very day for our re-wedding, and we've been eagerly anticipating it for weeks. Today, I have a unique wedding gift for my husband—a manuscript of my new book, 'Fragrance of Love 2'. I know it will light up his face with joy, and that's precisely what I want to see.As I hold the bound manuscript in my hands, I hear his voice calling for me, and a smile tugs at my lips. "What is my wife up to on our wedding day?" he asks, his eyes dancing with excitement. "I can't wait to recite our vows again. I wish we could have a grand celebration, but I respect your wish."He pouts playfully, and I can't resist the urge to pull his cheek gently. "Mr. Husband, I want this day to be special in its simplicity, just for us." I say, putting a quick peck on his lips."But after the wedding, Abby, there's something I've been patiently waiting for, and you've been using this '
Michael's POV -The morning sun barely peeks through the curtains as I awaken, wrapped in the warmth of Abigail's embrace. Last night was nothing short of magic, the kind that leaves you in awe of the universe, feeling blessed and alive. Her peaceful slumber beside me is like a painting, serene and beautiful. I gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face and plant a soft kiss on her forehead."Good morning, my love," I whisper, my voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open, and a smile graced her lips."Good morning, hubby," she replies, her voice a sweet melody that warms my heart. She stretches her body, her bare back exposed, and I can't help but admire the graceful curve of her spine. But as I lean in to kiss her, she covers her chest with her hands, her cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink.I can't contain my laughter. "Are you serious, wifey? I held you undressed all night, and now you're covering yourself?" I playfully tease as I tuc
Abigail's POV -"Why did your husband try to put my wife behind bars? How could I stay passive?" William's voice clashes with mine, both of us brimming with anger."Now you can understand, can't you? Your wife attempted to murder his wife. Wouldn't he seek justice? I let that go, so you shouldn't attempt to harm my husband," I retort, my eyes blazing with fury."What is happening here?" Ema, that cheating friend of mine, suddenly appears out of nowhere."Your husband tried to harm my husband. I swear, Ema, if you don't keep your husband under control, you might end up a widow, and no one can stop me," I seethe, my words dripping with resentment and disdain."Mind your tongue, Abi," she snaps, but I cut her off, a storm of emotions fueling my rage. "Abigail Pattinson. Address me by Abigail. You've lost the right to call me Abi. Besides, I would love to slap you harder, but if I did, it would be considered animal abuse, and I don't want to stoop to that level," I declare, my gun still po
Abigail's POV -Days flow steadily, like a calm river winding its way through life's landscapes. I sit at my desk, penning down words that weave stories of love and heartache. Fragrance of Love, my most successful novel to date, brought the intoxicating aroma of success into my life. Now, I'm immersed in crafting its sequel, Fragrance of Love Season 2, hoping to give the love it couldn't find in the first part—a story mirroring my own life's journey, finding its path to happiness.These past two years have been transformative. The catering business Chole and I started, now known as 'A&C,' has flourished under Chloe's capable leadership. Despite Michael's proposal for a business collaboration between our companies, I was adamant about maintaining our individuality. Our love might be on the mend, but our businesses remained separate entities.In this time, I've managed to complete seven books, each a piece of my heart poured onto the pages. Fragrance of Love holds a special place, its su
Abigail's POV -Two weeks have passed since that dramatic day in the heart of New York City when I gave Michael one last chance. It's been a whirlwind of emotions, but the most important thing is that he's recovering well. I've been dividing my time between the hospital and home, and even though he's eager to come home, I've insisted on staying by his side at the hospital.Honestly, I can't help but be a bit possessive. I don't like the idea of nurses fussing over him, even if it's for his own good. And, to my relief, it seems that Mick has noticed too.Today, I'm driving to the hospital from home. As I enter his room, I see one of the nurses talking animatedly with Mick, both of them sharing a friendly smile. My heart gives an involuntary pang, and a touch of jealousy creeps in. I can't help it; I just want all his attention for myself.Summoning my bravado, I stride over to them, trying to mask my irritation with a polite smile. "Excuse me," I say sweetly to the nurse. "Could you giv
Michael's POV -Pain pulses through my body as we speed through the city streets, my thoughts consumed by one burning question: where is Abby? I've tried calling her countless times, my desperation growing with each unanswered ring. It's as if she's vanished into thin air, leaving me with a deep sense of emptiness.In my desperation, I dial my father's number. "Dad," I say urgently, "I need you to call Abby and keep the line open for at least 30 seconds. We can trace her location that way."The seconds feel like hours as I wait for my father's call back. Every passing moment is a torment, and I can't bear the thought of Abby slipping further away from me.Finally, my father's name flashes on my screen, and I answer with bated breath. "Dad, did you—"But his words cut me off. "She hung up, Mick," he says with a heavy sigh. "And she sent a message, saying she'll talk to you when she returns to California."My heart sinks as I hear those words. I wanted to see her, to hold her, to beg for