The Second Marriage Chance

Sarah

Philip’s grasp on my arms was ferocious, each finger a vice, as if he were a stranger lost in the depths of his own darkness. It was as though he couldn’t recognize me anymore. Under the weight of his anger, my bones felt fragile, on the brink of breaking, and I couldn’t fathom what thoughts raced through his mind-a familiar uncertainty that haunted our interactions.

With each step down the broad staircase, his chest heaved with fury.

“Philip, please, calm down! I-I didn’t do anything!” I pleaded, tears streaming down my cheeks, matching the torrential rain outside that also mirrored his rage.

As he escorted me out of Serenity Pines Estate, the cold enveloped me, matching the chill in his demeanor. Every drop of rain felt like it seeped into my very being, amplifying my distress. I struggled to comprehend what was happening, still reeling from whatever substance the abductors had forced upon me. My eyes felt as clouded as my mind.

“No, Philip!” I begged desperately, clinging to the hope that he would listen and believe me. I was innocent, framed, but his accusatory tone cut through the storm like a knife.

“Stay there!” he commanded, shoving me out of the gate.

“No, Philip! You have to believe me!” I cried out, pleading with him, but his belief in my infidelity drowned out my words amidst the raging storm.

“Philip, please trust me!” I pleaded through tears, the pain radiating through me. I knew, deep down, that the figure in the hoodie hadn’t laid a hand on me.

In that heart-stopping moment, faces blurred into insignificance as the gate sealed my fate with a resounding crash.

On my knees, the cold asphalt biting my skin, I gazed up at the imposing Serenity Pines Estate, with tears cascading down my cheeks, tearing through my soul. My body trembled uncontrollably, ravaged by a chill that seemed to emanate from the very depths of my despair.

I mustered the strength to rise, pounding on the imposing gate and begging Philip to let me in.

“Philip!” I cried out, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

As my hands grew numb with pain, I sank to the ground, hugging my knees tightly, lost in a whirlwind of despair. I couldn’t leave; this was my only refuge. I hoped Philip would relent and open the gate once more.

Time blurred as I remained curled up, rain soaking me through, chilling me to the bone. Then, through a hazy-streaked vision, I saw a black limousine pull up. Before I could grasp the figure’s identity emerging from the vehicle, darkness descended upon me like a suffocating shroud, the frigid embrace of the wet cement enveloping me in a chilling embrace.

With each passing hour, my eyelids hesitantly parted, revealing a world of searing heat and the relentless throbbing of my body, accompanied by the rhythmic beep of the nearby machine.

Although shielded from the frigid embrace of the rain, an inexplicable shiver persisted, coursing through my veins like an icy river. The sterile whiteness enveloped my surroundings starkly contrasted with the numbing chill that gripped me from within.

“So cold…” I murmured, my voice trembling.

I was embraced by a thick blanket, causing my eyelids to flutter shut as I felt its warm tendrils envelop me, drifting me back into the realm of dreams because I could hear Amir-my older brother.

“What happened to you, Sarah?” Amir’s voice echoed in my dream, sadness etched across his features. “I came to Highland Hills City for a business trip, never expecting to find you like this. Your chosen family seemed fine; you studied and lived in a grand villa.”

“I’m fine,” I replied, masking the truth. “I love Philip deeply, and we’ve had no issues in our years together. Your investigation is accurate.”

I’m unwilling to burden Amir or anyone else, especially Philip.

But tears threatened to spill, betraying the turmoil within me. I yearned to grow weary of pouring my time, effort, and boundless affection into loving someone, but how could I when my love for Philip was so consuming, compelling me to do anything for him?

Amir’s figure gradually faded, replaced by Philip’s blurred visage, lingering in my hazy vision.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

***

Philip

Rage courses through my veins like wildfire, ignited by the scene I’ve just witnessed. I long to have faith in Sarah and believe in our bond’s sanctity, but doubts gnaw at my mind relentlessly.

Outside, Sarah’s fists pounding against the heavy aluminum gate echoed in harmony with the relentless downpour. A part of me yearned to rush to her side, but the thought of appearing foolish held me back.

My relationship with Sarah has always been casual, but now I wonder if that was a mistake. Has she grown tired of our marriage, seeking solace in the arms of another man? For the second time, she has shattered my pride and the fragile trust that once resided in my heart.

‘She wouldn’t betray me, would she?’

Beside me, my mother’s words cut like knives. “That woman has no shame! What does she think of our family? We took her in when she was nothing, and now she repays us like this? Disgusting! I won’t allow her to poison our family any longer!”

Her disdain for Sarah is nothing new to me; it’s been evident for three years.

“Where did you find those pictures, Mom?” I inquired, trying to keep my voice steady despite the storm brewing within me.

“I had them investigated thoroughly! There was a day when I dropped by, and I didn’t find Sarah at home. Why would she be out when we have groceries delivered right to our door every week? And that person in the hoodie who always seems to be meeting her outside? I made sure to look into that as well. Trust me, there’s more to their relationship than meets the eye!”

A wave of darkness crashed over my senses as the vivid memory assaulted me once more-that sight of that person and Sarah in the room!

My wife, Sarah, lost her parents at a young age. I became acquainted with her about a year ago when she frequented the Cornell mansion for her studies; she attended school with my half-sister, Jane. During my less hectic days at Luminary, I used to chat with both Sarah and Jane.

Jane informed me that Sarah relies on a scholarship since she is an orphan. Despite this, Jane generously shared her Netflix account and other subscriptions to assist Sarah with her studies. My wife wasn’t just a brilliant student; she’s a prodigy, surpassing expectations in several classes. What truly captivated me was her relentless dedication to everything she pursued.

Then came my wedding day; Megan left, and Sarah offered herself as my bride to save my face from scrutiny.

“Why did you offer yourself to be my wife?” I inquired of her then.

It took her a while to gather her thoughts before responding. “I-I need money. I need assurance that I’ll be able to live,” was her reply.

Sarah’s admission left a bitter taste in my mouth. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had become opportunistic, seizing the chance to join the Cornell family. My sentiments towards her swiftly soured because I’ve always harbored a disdain for those who exploit situations for personal gain, perhaps because it mirrors the traits I’ve observed in my parents.

My mother’s lineage can be traced back to Maple Grove, a quaint sanctuary in the northeastern countryside, where families earn a modest living through agricultural labor. She embodied the image of a rural girl who boldly seized the chance to marry a prosperous businessman-my father! Her fervent pursuit of wealth and authority is unmistakable, and her actions frequently vex me as much as my father’s.

Jane is the one who truly brings out the best in me. Though we come from different mothers, our bond as siblings is profound. We’ve always found solace and affection in each other, so I feel compelled to shield her from my mother’s grip.

My thoughts are abruptly interrupted, snapping me back to attention. “Are you listening, Philip?!” My mother’s words pierced through my thoughts. “What right does that stupid wench have to try and infiltrate the Cornell Family? Megan is a far better match! Their family has wealth!”

“Her name is Sarah, not ‘stupid wench!” I retorted, feeling frustration simmering within me.

I am utterly drained, pushed to the brink by a relentless onslaught of challenges. Battling through the treacherous waters of office politics, wrestling with the suffocating grip of my overbearing mother, and now, the searing betrayal of Sarah’s infidelity weighs heavily upon me.

“She’s just another gold-digger bitch aiming to become your wife!”

I released a frustrated sigh. “Mom, I’d appreciate it if you could leave,” I finally muster the strength to request.

“What?” she shouted at me, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “And what do you want? Let your unfaithful wife in here? I told you, Philip!”

“Stop it!” I shrieked in frustration, my patience wearing thin. It felt wrong to raise my voice at my mother, but I couldn’t bear to listen any longer.

“Roque!” I called out, locking eyes with my mother, who was visibly seething. Roque, her trusted driver and bodyguard, promptly entered the villa.

“Yes, boss?” he responded, awaiting my command.

“Please escort Madam Cornell to the mansion,” I ordered firmly, determined to resolve the situation.

With a sharp clench of her jaw, my mother begrudgingly trailed behind Roque as they exited the living room. As she stormed out, leaving behind a cloud of tension, I anxiously scanned the surroundings for Sarah, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Desperate, I reached for my phone, dialing Alex frenetically to uncover my wife’s whereabouts.

After what felt like an eternity of agonizing suspense and a seemingly endless twenty minutes dragged by like hours, I finally received a response.

“Boss, your newest neighbor, Amir Benner, took Madam Sarah to the hospital.”