The Second Marriage Chance

Conception of Hope



Sarah

My excitement bubbled uncontrollably, an unstoppable force urging me to share the impending news with Philip. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this revelation might redefine our entire dynamic. Yet, amidst the tumult of emotions swirling within me, I couldn’t ignore the gnawing sensation that Amir’s reaction wouldn’t match my euphoria.

“You’re pregnant, and yet that jerk left you stranded outside your villa, soaked in the rain, and caused you to faint? I’ll have a word with him, Sarah! He needs to face the consequences!” Amir seethed with anger.

“Please don’t! They don’t know about my background as a Benner,” I pleaded.

“What?” Amir felt taken aback.

“When I enrolled in university, I used Grandpa’s last name, Mitchell. To everyone else, I’m Sarah Mitchell, an orphan,” I explained to my brother.This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“So, that’s why he didn’t know we’re related.”

“Please, leave Philip alone!” I redirected my plea to Amir.

I expected Philip to react differently upon learning the truth rather than offering a listening ear. For three long years, I maintained a web of lies, all to shield them from the devastating reality of my disownment by my own family.

How would revealing this truth affect the reputation of the respected Cornell family?

After a moment fraught with tension, I parted ways with Amir.

He pointed me towards the house next to Serenity Pines Estate. I was surprised to realize that Amir was the one who had moved into that very house I had seen yesterday.

As I stepped out of the hospital, I directed the driver to Philip’s office, the weight of a small round cake nestled in my grip.

Is it naive of me to imagine that this tiny bundle will transform our marriage? The anticipation of parenthood courses through me, refusing to be ignored.

Several faces in Philip’s workplace are familiar to me, none more so than the ostentatious secretary stationed outside his door. She’s the regular recipient of the lunch I deliver to my husband’s workplace. What strikes me is her consistently snug attire, meticulously crafted to accentuate every curve, from her shapely legs to her generous cleavage.

It irks me that she spends ample time with Philip, flaunting her nearly bare figure in his presence daily.

“Boss Philip isn’t here; he’s off to an external meeting,” she informed me, arms crossed defensively.

“And when will he return?” I inquired.

“I’m not sure!” That was nothing short of a fabrication! Alex runs a tight ship, and this secretary, being one of his staff, undoubtedly has every detail of Philip’s schedule at her fingertips.

“I’ll text Alex,” I declared, reaching into my bag for my phone. However, she swiftly intervened, perhaps fearing repercussions if I were to relay my grievances to her boss.

“No need. Yeah, I recall the boss will be returning in an hour,” she divulged.

I wanted to scrutinize her, but I didn’t have time for these kinds of people.

“I’ll wait inside Philip’s office. Please open the door and put this cake in the fridge,” I instructed her. Her expression contorted into a deep frown as she reluctantly inserted the key into the lock of my husband’s office door.

Given Philip’s meticulous nature, he detests any speck of dust, and his immaculate office reflects that.

The room stretched out expansively, dominated by his grandiose desk positioned at the distant end, commanding attention. On the right, a glimmering glass window stood as a barrier, obscuring the breathtaking vista of Highland Hills City. Meanwhile, nestled on the left, Philip’s modest sleeping quarters offered solace during those rare occasions when he didn’t return to Serenity Pines because of his relentless workload.

After surveying the room, I settled onto the plush couch and picked up a magazine from the rack.

“Are you sure you’ll wait here?” the secretary inquired, standing beside the door.

“Yes. I’ll leave if Philip doesn’t arrive within an hour,” I replied.

I wasn’t feeling well and needed to ensure our villa was in order when Philip came home. When the secretary was out of sight, I retrieved the bond paper with the doctor’s diagnosis printed on it-I am six weeks pregnant.

With a smile, I glanced at my wristwatch, indicating it was only three o’clock in the afternoon. Contemplating the possibility of Philip being too engrossed in his work to return promptly, I consciously decided not to disrupt him. Instead, I resolved to craft a special dinner at home, eagerly awaiting the moment I could share the exhilarating news with him in our own space.

However, a wave of unease gripped my stomach just ten minutes later. Hurriedly, I made my way to the restroom within his office and vomited. The dizziness overwhelmed me as I struggled to maintain my balance. Desperately yearning for solace, I sought refuge in the sanctuary of Philip’s private chamber.

As I lay on his bed, I allowed the door to creak slightly, feeling my husband’s comforting presence. Running my hand over the soft pillow, I conjured Philip’s face in my mind, inhaling his lingering scent on the sheets.

At that moment, a sense of tranquility washed over me, soothing my emotions and coaxing sleep to embrace me…

***

I didn’t know how many hours had passed, but I heard a series of moans outside the slightly ajar door, enough to wake me up.

The secretary’s voice pierced through the walls of the extension room, echoing with a foreboding resonance that sent shivers down my spine.

“Hmmm… yes! Right there, boss! Lick my pvssy! Ahhhh!”

My eyes stretched wide with disbelief, and a torrent of inexplicable sensations surged through my veins, electrifying every fiber of my being, as her intoxicating moans danced provocatively in my ears.

‘She’s having sex with Philip?’

I didn’t know what to do, whether to confront them or let myself listen to the ongoing affair right in my husband’s office.

The haunting image of my husband pushing the secretary onto the wide desk seared into my mind, leaving me reeling with anguish. Sitting at one corner of the bed, I curled up, clutching my legs tightly as torrents of tears streamed down both of my cheeks.

“Would you be able to leave your wife for me if she knew about our secret affair?”

I heard them exchanging passionate kisses. Glancing at my wristwatch, it showed past six in the evening.

Philip was fooling me! How long has my husband been in a relationship with the secretary?

It was painful to consider that Philip’s prolonged stays in the office stemmed from his preference for his secretary’s company over mine.

“Please… give it to me!” the secretary murmured, “I’m wiggling my hips for you. Please give me that hard c0ck! Ohhhh!”

My chest constricted, suffocated by the cacophony of passionate moans echoing from beyond the walls. Tears streamed down my cheeks, a silent testament to the agony tearing through my soul.

Each moan shattered my heart into a million irreparable fragments. Alone in that extension room, I had to witness Philip’s brazen betrayal as the raw truth laid bare before me, tearing away any remnants of trust or hope.

“Yes, f[u]ck that pussy! Harder! Harder!”

My fist clenched on the bed sheets as a wave of horror washed over me. I had no idea how long they’d been f[u]cking. Tears silently streamed down my cheeks as their moans pierced the air like a knife, each thrust and collision of skin stabbing at my soul.

Is this how stupid Philip sees me?

The elusive dream of capturing his love may haunt me indefinitely.

After lingering for another torturous thirty minutes, I finally resolved to leave the private room.

To my utter dismay and disgust, the carpet greeted me with the sight of two discarded condoms. The sheer audacity and blatant disrespect displayed in leaving such a repulsive mess behind filled me with an overwhelming sense of shame.

When I left Philip’s office, his secretary was conspicuously absent from her desk. In a daze, I made my way to the elevator, feeling the weight of scrutinizing glances from the other employees.

As I stepped into the elevator cabin, a deluge of tears surged forth, no longer restrained by the facade of composure I had maintained moments earlier. My lips trembled uncontrollably as I met the gaze of my reflection in the mirror, confronting the visage of a wretched soul staring back at me.

With every fiber of my being, I clung to my chest, feeling as though the weight of the world was crushing my very breath.

I thought of using sunglasses to shield my tears as the elevator doors opened in the lobby.

The bitter reality sank in as I reflected on the illusion that the baby would mend the chasm in my relationship with Philip. He would never reciprocate the profound love I harbored for him.

With silent sobs wracking my body, I instructed the driver to send me home, my tears silently staining the upholstery of the back seat.

Arriving at Serenity Pines Estate, I shed my clothes along with my illusions, seeking solace in my embrace, forsaken by all but myself.

I stumbled upon Megan’s divorce papers that she had given me earlier, and it felt like a dagger through my heart. Once more, tears flooded my eyes.

What do these other women possess that I lack in Philip’s eyes?

Why am I not enough?

I’ve decided to depart from Philip’s world, especially now with a baby on the way. I refuse to embark on the journey of pregnancy, burdened solely by resentment.

As I waited for Philip at the villa, the clock ticked past eleven before his car finally pulled up to the grand entrance of Serenity Pines Estate. As he stepped inside, the scent of a recent shower wafted toward me, an ironic detail that sparked a bittersweet amusement within me.

I fought back a bitter, mocking laugh, feeling the urge to despise myself for the sheer foolishness of loving someone capable of such deceit!

Philip was accustomed to discovering me in that spot each time he returned home. Our gazes locked, and with venom dripping from my words, I rose to my feet to confront the darkness that had settled on my lips.

“Let’s end this charade, Philip… Let’s get a divorce…”


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