The air was thick with tension as John confronted Soraya, the warmth of their marriage now overshadowed by distrust. The wealthy young billionaire could hardly digest the news: his wife seemed ready to turn to the very family guard they had put their trust in. Soraya had a reckoning to face. With his holiday unexpectedly extended due to a recent misfortune, John seized the opportunity to confront her.
"Come here!" He commanded, his voice cutting through the silence. Soraya, who had been discreetly observing from the kitchen, felt her heart plummet as she approached him, fear gripping her every step. The look on his face was thunderous, and she trembled, nearly collapsing under the weight of his disappointment.
"Sit down! I mean, right now!" His roar echoed through the room, and she obeyed instantly, her heart pounding like a drum against her ribs.
"I can't believe you would betray me like this. Was all that love just an act? What I thought was a shared bond has ended in nothing but my tears!" John's voice cracked with raw emotion, unveiling the pain hidden beneath his bravado.
Soraya remained silent, her mind racing. She whispered a desperate prayer for divine intervention, knowing the gravity of her situation. This could very well be her last hope. Yet, amidst the turmoil, she silently wished for a miracle.
"Silence won't fix anything; we need to talk this out and find a way forward," John urged, his tone softening just a notch.
Suddenly, the anguished cry of their child pierced the air, pulling them back to reality. John bolted toward the bedroom, with Soraya hot on his heels.
She swiftly scooped up the baby, cradling her tenderly, coaxing her cries into soft whimpers. Feeling the energy shift, John stepped back, retreating to one of his favorite spots in the living room, tension still hanging between them.
Soraya joined him with their baby in her arms; the atmosphere was charged yet somehow different. They resumed their conversation, the earlier weight lifting ever so slightly.
"My dear wife," John began, his tone shifting to one of concern, "please reconsider your actions and embrace the role of a responsible mother. This turmoil won't propel us forward; it only drags us down."
Buoyed by a newfound courage, Soraya countered softly, "But you're the reason behind all of this, my husband."
An uneasy silence enveloped them, each lost in their thoughts. "I'm acting out of anger, on a path of revenge," she admitted, vulnerability peeling back the layers of her defenses.
What! A revenge mission, John wondered. But in his mind, he knew very well what his wife meant, wondering how she came to know it. As a man, he had to pretend as if he knew nothing. He silently vowed to remain innocent until proven guilty by solid evidence.
"No way, I'm as white as snow. Don't trust any word from a person; maybe they have the intention to break up a marriage; for your information, not all people mean well. us." John tried to deviate from the main point.
"No one told me, I have a written will, the one you wrote with your own hand," she stated. That is when John realized where the rain started beating them.
"Who is Sasha, don't tell me anything close to a co-wife," the lady asked, insisting on a genuine answer.
John had to maintain silence. In his mind, silence would be the best medicine, as trying to talk would further complicate the situation.
"Are you dumb now?" Soraya raised her voice. "In fact, according to this, she is the one allocated the highest portion; you must comment on this regardless of anything.
When the conversation became too hot, John left and crawled to the bedroom to sleep. He left them in the sitting room.
Soraya, now having a rift with her husband, decided to sleep on the couch. To show the extent of the rift, she opted not to share a bed with her husband. She occupied the couch, having the child on her chest and covering themselves with a sheet.
At midnight, John tried to locate his wife in their dark room but couldn't. It dawned on him that he was alone.
John made a step and switched the lights on before moving to the sitting room. He found his wife and the child sleeping uncomfortably. John first picked the child and carried it to the bedroom, positioning it at the far end next to the wall, the position often occupied by his wife. The child often slept in the middle of the couple.
John then went and grabbed his wife and carried her to the bed. He had a small, bodily wife, giving him the ease to lift her up and place her on the bed. All that time, she was asleep and couldn't notice anything.
In the morning, Soraya found herself in the arms of her husband, warmly held. She was tightly held close to her love. She was surprised, trying to remember any time to come to bed. She expected to find herself on one couch. She tried to locate her child.
She stretched her hand, trying to locate her child, but failed. She suddenly woke up in disbelief and found her child on the floor.
What! She was really pained. Her only child on the cold floor! It sounded weird. The pain of a true mother pierced through her, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Hey, wake up! What have you done to my child?" Soraya shouted as she quickly moved to pick up the child. It got John by surprise, who woke up confused.
"I'm sorry, dear, what happened?" John inquired amidst high tension. Soraya had no time to explain. John had to read between the lines.
"Sorry, is she fine?" John inquired as he made a quick move to grab her from her mother. Soraya reluctantly denied him, saying, "Leave her alone, I wonder what an irresponsible man you are!"
John tried to explain that it was not his intention for such an occurrence. It took him too much time to convince her, even going as far as promising valuable items in exchange for forgiveness.
At that point, John had to regret going into marriage at such a young age. He wished he could have a marriage manual to proceed through each stage, but he had to be a man.