All Chapters of Tuberose: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Michael's pov - As Abigail rests peacefully in my arms, her gentle breaths creating a soothing rhythm, I can't help but find myself lost in admiration of her beauty. The soft glow of moonlight spills into the room, casting a delicate illumination upon her features. It's moments like these when I am reminded of the incredible fortune I have to call her mine. I study her face, tracing the contours with my gaze, taking in every delicate detail. Her eyes closed in peaceful slumber, holding a captivating depth that never fails to draw me in. The curve of her lips, slightly upturned, reveals a hint of a smile, an indication of the happiness that resides within her even in her dreams. With the gentlest touch, I graze my knuckles along her smooth skin, savoring the warmth and softness that lies beneath. A slight tickle elicits a barely perceptible smile, a small reflection of the joy she brings to my life. It's moments like these that make me realize how truly lucky I am to have her by my s

Michael's pov - "How?" I inquire, my voice laced with equal parts curiosity and apprehension. I am desperate for a solution, but a part of me hesitates to accept her assistance, unsure of the implications it might have on our relationship. "Maybe with something that I can't prove," she says, her words carrying a hint of mystery. "But don't worry, it's my money, and it's legal. You can use it." My heart sinks, the weight of my past words and judgments crashing down upon me. How could I have called her a gold digger when she possesses such wealth? How could I have been so blind to her achievements and success? A mix of emotions swirls within me—gratitude, guilt, and a deep sense of remorse. I realize now that I've underestimated Abby, and reduced her to mere stereotypes without truly understanding the depth of her character and accomplishments. I take a moment to reflect on the times I've seen her tirelessly working multiple jobs when we first met, her determination and drive to succe

Abigail's pov - As we approach the entrance, Mick takes the lead, his footsteps echoing through the desolate space. "Stay close," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart. "And be ready for anything." The warehouse is shrouded in darkness, the only illumination coming from thin slivers of light seeping through the gaps in the boarded-up windows. The air hangs heavy with the scent of dampness and decay, heightening our senses as we navigate the labyrinthine corridors. With each step, anticipation and anxiety intertwine, creating a knot in the pit of my stomach. I try to steady my breathing, my mind focused on the task at hand. We must find Ema, no matter the cost. As we turn a corner, a dim light flickers ahead, casting eerie shadows along the walls. A muffled sound reaches our ears, a whimper perhaps, or a distant cry for help. Adrenaline courses through my veins, fueling my resolve. We move closer, the tension thickening with every passing moment. Mick

Abigail's pov - We gathered around Mick's bed, our eyes fixed on his face, willing him to wake up. The room is filled with the sound of beeping machines, the steady rhythm of life persisting despite the turmoil that surrounds us. Ema's hand reaches out, touching Mick's arm gently, her voice laced with love and longing. "Come back to us, Mick. We need you," she whispers, her voice trembling with unshed tears. Though I frown at her. However, her concern seems real and I gulp my unhappiness with her way of treating my husband. Jack stands beside me, his gaze fixed on his friend, a mix of concern and unwavering loyalty shining in his eyes. He places a hand on my back, offering silent support in this moment of helplessness. Time stretches on, minutes blending into hours, as we sit by Mick's side, hoping and praying for a sign of improvement. The beeping of the monitors becomes a familiar soundtrack, a constant reminder that life is still present, even in its fragile state. Michael's fa

Abigail's pov - I awake to find myself wrapped snugly in a blanket, the room bathed in a soft, warm glow. Confusion washes over me as I try to recall how I ended up here. I remember leaning against the sofa, but then everything becomes hazy. When did I fall asleep? Glancing around, I realize that Mick is not on the bed. Concern tugs at my heart, and I quickly sit up, scanning the room for any sign of him. Then, my eyes land on him, standing by the window, gazing out at the rain falling from the heavens. He seems lost in his thoughts, captivated by the tranquil beauty outside. Without hesitation, I walk over to him, my steps light and purposeful. "Hey, Mr. Husband. Enjoying alone?" I playfully call out, slipping my arm through his left and positioning myself by his side, leaning against his shoulder. He turns his head, a smile lighting up his face. "Sleeping wife and showering rain. The perfect view," he replies, his voice filled with warmth and affection. I can't help but giggle,