Book 2: So, this is Forever
4 – Where is the boss?"
"Becky, we need to have a divorce"
The words Freen uttered felt like an explosion for Becky. What the fuck is her wife saying. She knows Freen has been having a problem at her company, being the CEO with a lot to tackle during this trying times. Becky cannot seem to understand, coz she knows she did her best to be understanding. But all hell bounds if she was still lacking she is still willing to pour it all that she could to support and understand Freen, but divorce? No fucking way!
Becky's breathing starts to become uneven. "Why Freen?" What are you saying" she exclaimed now standing in front of a well seated Freen.
"I can no longer fulfill my promise to you when we got married. I can no longer be a good wife to you," Freen responded, bowing her head down as if ashamed.
"I don't understand." Becky shook her head
"Just sign it, Beck," she tapped the folder on the table and stood up.
But before she could step forward, Becky slapped her.
"What the hell, Freen? I haven't done anything wrong. I've been there for you, supporting you even when you weren't letting me in. Still, I haven't left you," Becky raised her voice.
"Exactly, you should have!" Freen shouted back.
"I don't deserve you. I haven't been there for you these past few months. Missed dinners, dates, and we haven't even made love for a while now. Even yesterday, it was our monthsary, but I was too caught up in this company problem that it only dawned on me when you texted me after waiting for me for dinner, which I think you had thought about."
"I couldn't bear to face you, so I wanted to forget everything. And so I got drunk and became another burden to you, and you had to take care of me even though I already caused you pain."
"Besides, if I cannot fix the problem, the main company will be bankrupt. I'll have to let go of my claim as a shareholder and CEO, and I cannot provide luxury for you and our daughter anymore. So, I'm stopping this train of disappointment and causing you further pain. Let's get a divorce," Freen ended her words.
Becky, now holding back tears, looked at Freen with a mix of hurt and disbelief.
"You're not stopping the train of pain for me; you're giving me the absolute pain there is — you're leaving me."
"Divorce won't fix this, baby. We can work through it. I love you, and I'm willing to fight for us."
"Just apologize for the lost moments and make up for it; it is enough for me."
"And I don't care if you're no longer the CEO of Chankimha Industries; we still have Forever Jewelries."
"And to hell with luxury! I don't need that! I need my wife! I need you!" Becky screamed.
Freen, with a stoic expression, remained resolute. "Beck, it's for the best. I can't keep dragging you down with me. You deserve better."
Becky, overcome with emotion, replied, "I deserve you, Freen. I chose you, and I won't stop fighting for us."
Freen, facing a torrent of conflicting emotions, remained silent, torn between the pain of separation and the fear of causing further harm to the one she loved.
"D-don't make it harder for both of us, Rebecca. I-I will let you go for your own good."
Becky hugged Freen, "Baby, please listen to me. That is not for my own good. You will break me, babe. There is no need for that. Please."
Freen let go of her wife's hug and continued to walk towards the door.
"Wait," Rebecca exclaimed. "Freen, none of those were your promises in our wedding — not the dinners, dates, or sex, not even the luxury. The only thing I know is, you promised that with all that you are and all that you have, you will love me."
Freen stopped before turning the doorknob.
"This is the best I can do with what I have and what I am. I love you. I am sorry, Rebecca."
Freen left their bedroom.
Becky felt her knees weaken, and she crumbled to the floor, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. Tears streamed down her face, and her sobs echoed through the empty room. The reality of Freen's departure settled in, leaving a void that seemed insurmountable.
The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by Becky's heart-wrenching cries. The bedroom, once a sanctuary of shared dreams and whispered promises, now felt like a cold and desolate space.
As Becky navigated the storm of emotions, memories of their shared laughter, stolen glances, and the warmth of Freen's embrace flooded her mind. She clung to these fragments of a love that seemed to be slipping away.
In the midst of her despair, Becky's phone chimed with a message. She hesitated before picking it up, hoping against hope for a change in the heartbreaking narrative. The message was from Freen.
"I will leave for Kuwait today to meet with the victims of the explosion and further investigate the situation at the site office. My secretary will collect the signed divorce papers from you. I'm sorry, Becky. I hope you find the happiness you deserve. Take care."
Becky, clutching her phone, continued to cry on the floor, her world shattered and irreversibly changed. The echoes of Freen's departure reverberated in the emptiness of the room, leaving behind a poignant ache that would linger long after the door had closed.
For an unknown time, Becky had been crying in her bed, falling asleep amidst the sea of her own tears. After a few hours, she was awakened by her daughter's voice, soft and tender.
"Mommy, mommy, wake up."
Becky stirred, her eyes swollen from the tears that had marked her restless slumber. Zea, their little beacon of innocence, stood by the bedside, concern etched across her small face.
"Mommy, why are you crying? Is Dada coming home?" Zea asked, her eyes searching for answers in her mother's tear-stained face.
Becky, though grappling with her own pain, managed a weak smile for her daughter. She pulled Zea into a gentle embrace, holding her close as if seeking solace in the warmth of their connection.
"No, sweetheart, Dada won't be coming home for a while," Becky whispered, her voice filled with a heaviness that even a child's heart could sense.
Zea, too young to fully grasp the complexities of the situation, simply nodded, her small hand reaching up to wipe away a lingering tear on her mother's cheek.
"Don't worry, Mommy. I'll be here with you," Zea assured, a gesture of comfort that held a wisdom beyond her years.
Becky, touched by the purity of her daughter's love, tightened her embrace. In the midst of heartbreak, there was a flicker of solace in the unwavering bond between mother and child.
Summoning strength from the depths of her grief, Becky managed a tender smile at Zea. "You know what, sweetheart? Today is going to be a special day, just for us. How about we go out and pick some new toys together?"
Zea's eyes lit up with excitement, her innocent joy momentarily dimming the shadows of the recent events. "Really, Mommy? Can we? I want a big, fluffy teddy bear!"
Becky chuckled, the sound a bittersweet melody in the air. "Absolutely, my love. We can get the biggest, fluffiest teddy bear in the store, and anything else you fancy."
As they ventured out into the day, the world outside their home felt both daunting and full of possibilities. The toy store, usually a place of simple joy, became a refuge—a space where they could momentarily escape the heaviness of their reality.
Zea's laughter and the sound of her footsteps echoing through the aisles became the soundtrack of a day dedicated to mending wounds, at least for a little while. In the simple act of choosing toys and sharing smiles, Becky found a temporary reprieve from the heartache that lingered in the recesses of her heart.
As they left the store, Zea clutched her new teddy bear with pure delight.
"Mommy can we have ice cream?" Zea ask with her cute expressive eyes
"Not before having lunch sweetheart" Becky taps her daughters nose.
Zea crunch her nose and responded, "Let's have lunch then mommy so I can have ice cream after" she smiled as big as she can excited for her ie cream
Becky, grateful for the momentary distraction, couldn't help but smile at Zea's infectious enthusiasm. "You drive a hard bargain, little one," she teased, ruffling Zea's hair affectionately. "Alright, let's have a delicious lunch first, and then we can indulge in some ice cream."
They decided to head to Zea's favorite lunch spot, a cheerful little diner known for its comforting meals. The warmth of the cozy establishment provided a stark contrast to the emotional turbulence outside.
As they sat in the booth, sharing a meal filled with laughter and chatter, Becky marveled at the resilience of childhood. Zea's ability to find joy in the simplest moments offered a poignant reminder that life, even in its toughest moments, could still hold moments of sweetness.
After satisfying their appetites, they strolled to the nearby ice cream parlor. Zea, practically bouncing with excitement, carefully selected her favorite flavor and topped it with a colorful array of sprinkles and candies.
As they sat on a bench outside, indulging in the cold treats, Zea's giggles filled the air. The day, initially marked by pain, gradually transformed into a canvas painted with the hues of shared joy and fleeting contentment.
Becky, savoring the sweetness of the ice cream and the precious moments with her daughter, felt a glimmer of hope. In these simple pleasures and the resilience of a child's spirit, she found the strength to face the uncertainties of the days ahead.
As they enjoyed their ice cream, Zea, with her innocent curiosity, turned to Becky and asked, "Mommy, do you miss Dada? Coz I miss my her."
Becky paused for a moment, her gaze lingering on the passing clouds above. "Yes, sweetheart, I do. But after her business trip, she'll surely make it up to us. Your Dada loves us a lot, and sometimes she just gets caught up in her work."
Despite Becky's hopeful words, a quiet worry lingered in the depths of her eyes. Becky knows that her wife is being stupid again. And it is up to her to give some sense to her. Freen is thinking too much into it. This is the part where Becky somewhat hate Freen's love for her, she loves her too much to the point of making stupid decisions for Rebecca's sake.
Later that evening, as Zea drifted off to sleep, Becky found herself sitting by the window, gazing at the moonlit sky. The rhythmic hum of the night embraced her thoughts, and a sense of determination settled within her.
"This is just a phase," Becky whispered to herself. "Freen will come back, and we'll figure this out together. No matter how stubborn she gets, I'll be there to guide her back to us. I will never sign that divorce paper"
With a mixture of hope and determination, Becky closed the curtains, leaving a sliver of the moonlight to dance across the room. The journey ahead was uncertain, but she vowed to navigate it with resilience, love, and an unwavering belief in the strength of their family.
The following day, a long-awaited weekend, found Becky rising late at around 9 am. As she contemplated the idea of getting up for a shower, her phone buzzed, indicating an incoming call. When she reached for her phone, a mix of surprise and anticipation washed over her as she noticed it was a video call from Freen. Taking a brief moment to glance at herself in the mirror, she ensured she looked presentable before answering.
With a deep breath, Becky accepted the call on her laptop instead. The screen flickered to life, revealing Freen's tired but familiar face in her car during the late afternoon in Kuwait. In that moment, the physical distance seemed to dissolve, and a smile naturally graced Becky's lips at the sight of her wife.
"Hey," Freen greeted, her voice carrying a blend of exhaustion and warmth. "I hope I didn't wake you up."
Becky shook her head. "No, not at all. It's a pleasant surprise. How's everything over there?"
Freen sighed, weariness evident in her eyes, tugging at Becky's heart. "It's been tough; I've uncovered more details of illegal activities in the site office, but I wanted to talk to you. How is Zea? How are you?"
Becky's smile softened. "Zea misses you so much. Me? I'm doing my best. But, of course, I'm at my worst – you wanted a divorce after all."
Freen's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, but listen..."
"No! You listen, Freen," Becky interrupted with calm determination. "I will never sign those divorce papers. When you get back, we'll talk it through and navigate our struggles. We are married, Freen, and this is marriage. We are partners; we go through everything together."
A subtle smile played on Freen's lips. "Becky, I want to tell you..." Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the call, followed by the sight of Freen hitting her head in the car and the sound of gunshots fired.
The abrupt sounds of a car accident and gunshots jolted Becky, her eyes widening with shock as she witnessed the chaotic scene unfolding on the video call. Freen's car had collided with another vehicle, the impact causing a sudden blur of disorientation. The haunting echo of gunshots reverberated through the call, sending shivers down Becky's spine.
"Freen! What is happening? Baby, are you okay?" Becky's voice trembled with worry as she strained to see through the chaos on the screen.
Freen, now visible with a bleeding cut on her forehead, struggled to maintain her composure. "Becky, I—I need help. It's not safe here."
Fear gripped Becky's heart as she desperately sought a way to assist from miles away. "Freen, stay with me. Help is on the way. I'm calling emergency services there. Just hold on!"
As Becky dialed the emergency number, her fingers moved frantically, and her voice shook as she relayed the details of the accident and the ongoing danger. The seconds felt like an eternity as she waited for confirmation that help was en route.
"Freen, stay low, keep talking to me. We'll get through this," Becky reassured, her own voice a mix of determination and anxiety.
Freen, blood trickling down her forehead, nodded weakly. " B-becky, I don't know how much time I have. T-there are people after me, and I need to find a way out of here.
Becky's heart pounded as she watched the surreal drama unfold, helpless in her position. "Just stay safe, Freen. Help is coming. I love you, and we'll get through this together."
Becky's heart raced as the nightmare unfolded on the video call. The urgency in Freen's situation was palpable, and the ominous voices in the background only heightened the gravity of the threat. The question, "Where is the boss?" echoed through the call, sending shivers down her spine.
"Babe, be careful," Becky pleaded once more, her voice tinged with desperation.
Freen, visibly distressed, urgently whispered, "Becky, I need you to do something for me. I need you to contact Saint. Tell him everything. He can help."
Becky, though confused, nodded in acknowledgment. "Okay, Freen. I'll call Saint right away. Just hang in there. Help is on the way."
The tension escalated as a voice shouted, "She's here," and the phone showed Freen being forcibly dragged out of the car. Panic surged through Becky as she helplessly witnessed the unfolding events.
"So, you are the boss. You think you can interfere? Die, you bitch!" a voice bellowed, followed by the haunting sound of gunshots. Becky's eyes widened in horror as she saw Freen collapse to the ground.
"Nooooooooo!!! Freeeeen!!!" Becky's anguished scream echoed through the room, jolting her awake. Gasping for breath, she found herself back in the solitude of her bedroom. The remnants of the nightmare clung to her like a heavy fog. Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the haunting memories of loss and fear.
The weight of reality settled in, and Becky, now fully awake, faced the daunting challenge of navigating through the aftermath of her dreams—a vivid and painful reliving of the tumultuous days before she lost Freen. The room, once filled with the echoes of her despair, now held an eerie stillness, punctuated only by the echoes of her racing heart. She clung to the fragments of her waking life, desperately trying to dispel the lingering specters of the haunting nightmare.
As Becky grappled with the haunting remnants of the nightmare, she found herself perched on the edge of her bed, entangled in the vivid images that clung to her like a weighty cloak. The emotional residue left her breathless, caught in a disorienting dance with the lingering specters of fear and loss.
In the muted glow of the room, Becky consciously took measured breaths, attempting to tether herself to the tangible reality that enveloped her. The stark dissonance between the harrowing nightmare and the waking world intensified the echoes of her distress.
With a trembling hand, she reached for her phone on the bedside table, the screen casting an illuminating glow on her strained face as she dialed her best friend's number. Each ring seemed to stretch into an eternity, the mounting anxiety palpable with every passing moment.
When Irin's voice finally punctuated the ringing, it brought a mix of concern and familiarity, offering a lifeline in the aftermath of the harrowing dream. "Becky, what's going on? Is everything okay?"
"I-I dreamt of it again. F-freen was so helpless. I wasn't there for her. If only I had stopped her from going that day. I lost my wife, Irin," Becky uttered, her voice choked with sobs.
Irin, adopting a comforting tone, reassured her, "Breathe, Becky! It was just a nightmare. It was not your fault."
"Irin, it felt so real, like a replay of those painful days. I'm scared, and I miss her so much," Becky admitted, her vulnerability surfacing through tear-laden words.
"Becky, I know you miss her; we all miss Freen. But she wouldn't want you crying, you know. Just breathe. I'll visit you in the morning. It's only three more hours, so try to get back to sleep, okay?"
Caught in the emotional aftermath of the nightmare, Becky, grateful for Irin's comforting words, clutched her phone tightly. Even in the dark hours of the night, she found solace in the connection it provided.
As the call with Irin ended, Becky took a moment to collect herself. The room, now shrouded in shadows, felt both familiar and foreign—a landscape of memories and emotions intertwined with the present.
Six months had passed since Freen's incident, yet Becky found herself ensnared in the haunting echoes of that tragic day. Sleep had become an elusive companion, and on the worst nights, vivid nightmares clawed their way into her subconscious, dragging her back to the days of pain and ultimately to the heart-wrenching moment when she lost her wife.
In an attempt to regain a sense of normalcy, Becky decided to follow Irin's advice and try to get some more sleep. She slipped back under the covers, the weight of the nightmare still heavy on her heart.
Closing her eyes, Becky couldn't escape the haunting images that lingered—the desperation in Freen's eyes, the echoes of gunshots, the sense of helplessness. The lines between the dream and reality blurred, and she found herself grappling with the persistent fear that the nightmare had ignited.
Author's Note:
Hey, amazing readers! Just dropped a double update for you!
Please don't hate me or the story, these are just my ideas for the story. Huhuhu, hang in there with me, yeah? Join this journey with me and let's see where the road leads us.
Hope it vibes with you. Let me know what's cooking in your thoughts; your comments are like gold to me.
Wishing you a fantastic day ahead! 🌟