Book 2: So, this is Forever
7 – Make me understand
Freen's POV
The challenges we faced were far from over. The shadows of our hidden life loomed large, and the truth was now out in the open. Gently cradling Becky in my arms, I whispered, "It's going to be alright, love. I'm here now." I signaled to one of the bouncers, who discreetly approached with a plan in mind.
Carefully, we maneuvered through the bar, the bustling crowd seemingly unaware of the profound moment occurring in their midst. As we reached the private exit, the bouncer ensured that no prying eyes followed us.
Outside, a discreet vehicle awaited, part of the precautions we'd taken over the years. We laid Becky in the back, and I slid in beside her. The driver, aware of the sensitive nature of our situation, navigated through the city with utmost discretion.
The drive was silent, except for the subtle hum of the car. Becky, still unconscious, lay peacefully. The glow of the city lights passed by, casting fleeting shadows on her face. I couldn't help but marvel at the serenity that had settled over her features.
Arriving at my private and heavily secured house, I carefully carried her inside. Laying Becky on the bed, I watched over her as she slept, contemplating the complexities of our situation. The truth had been unveiled, and now, we stood at the crossroads of an uncertain future.
Immediately, I called the one person I knew could help me navigate this sudden turn of events and arranged for my daughter to be transferred to our safe house.
A few rings passed before I heard an answer, "Speak."
"Z," I ended the call, not taking any chances.
In the quiet of the secured house, my mind raced with the unfolding events. The sudden revelation of my presence, the reconnection with Becky, and the potential consequences loomed over our lives. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there was a flicker of hope—the hope of a life where we didn't have to hide, a life where our family could be together without the constant fear of danger.
As Becky continued to rest, I monitored her closely, the worry etched on my face. The bond we shared had endured the trials of separation, and now, faced with the realities of our situation, a renewed determination stirred within me.
After an hour the people I was waiting for arrived.
"How is Zea?" I asked whispering making sure not to wake up my princess in her sleep in her uncle's shoulder.
"Well she was fast asleep when I got her. Luckily she sleeps like a log like my sister." Richie answered.
Richie's words elicited a small smile from me. Afterward, I took my daughter to the adjacent room next to the master bedroom.
Returning to the living room, I expressed my gratitude to Richie. "Thank you for swiftly and safely getting Zea to the safe house. It means a lot."
He nodded understandingly, "You know I'd do anything for family. So what happened that you suddenly revealed yourself to my sister? It's only a matter of time for us to gather all the evidence we need and finally put an end to all of this."
I explained the unexpected turn of events—the visit to the cemetery, the bar, and the revelation to Becky. Richie listened attentively, his expression shifting from surprise to contemplation.
He chuckled, "So basically, you just can't see someone else with your wife."
I laughed, acknowledging the simplicity of Richie's summary. "In a nutshell, yes. But it's more complicated than that. Though I only revealed myself to my wife. Let's assume the worst that they already know. The risks have multiplied now."
Richie leaned back, crossing his arms. "Well, you've been hiding for a long time already. It was bound to catch up eventually. Maybe it's time to face it head-on and put an end to all this."
His words resonated with a certain truth. The constant hiding, the fear of exposure, and the intricate dance between our hidden life and the one we yearned for—it all felt exhausting. Yet, the dangers that lurked in the shadows were real, and confronting them required a careful strategy.
"We need to be smart about it," I replied. "Gather evidence discreetly and ensure the safety of our family above all."
Richie nodded in agreement. "I'll get the team together. We'll work on collecting the evidence we need as fast as we can, but we have to be prepared for any move they might make. We can't underestimate the opposition."
Nodding in agreement, I replied, "I know, we can't let our guard down. The danger is still there."
Richie took a moment before speaking, "We'll strengthen security, lay low for a while. The network will be on high alert. We can't afford any missteps"
"For now, be with your wife. Prepare for her wrath." My brother-in-law teased me.
I chuckled at Richie's teasing. "Oh, I'm well aware of the storm I might be walking into."
Richie grinned. "Good luck with that. I'll be in the guest room. Let me know if you need anything."
As Richie left to coordinate with the team, I found myself standing in the quiet living room, the weight of the situation sinking in. The delicate balance we had maintained for so long was now disrupted, and the path ahead was uncertain.
Walking towards the room where Becky was resting, I steeled myself for the conversations and challenges that awaited.
As I lay beside Becky, the soft glow of the room highlighted the contours of her face. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, a comforting cadence, reassured me that she was peacefully asleep.
I delicately brushed a strand of hair from Becky's face, a mixture of emotions swirled within me. The resilience she had shown in the face of our unconventional life filled me with admiration. The weight of the revelations and the challenges that loomed ahead pressed upon me, but in this tranquil moment, the warmth of our shared presence offered solace.
"I'm sorry for all the pain, my love," I whispered, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'll make sure you're safe, and then I'll surely make it up to you."
With that promise lingering in the air, I surrendered to sleep beside her, wrapping her in a tender embrace. The room, once harboring secrets, now bore witness to a quiet moment of respite in the face of an uncertain journey ahead.
_____________
Becky's POV
I felt the warmth of the sun on my face, accompanied by a lingering headache, likely the aftermath of the previous night's revelry. With closed eyes, I sat at the edge of the bed, slowly opening them to acclimate to the daylight. As my gaze descended, I noticed my feet against the unfamiliar backdrop of a different floor.
Perplexed, I immediately scanned the room, muttering to myself, "Where the hell am I?"
My eyes darted upward, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. A bedside table caught my attention, adorned with an aspirin and a glass of water, accompanied by a note.
I took the medicine and grabbed the note, which read, "Take this, I'll be back, my love."
"My love?" I questioned aloud. Battling the lingering headache, I attempted to piece together the events of the previous night.
Only one person addressed me with that endearment—my wife, Freen!
As the memories slowly emerged through the haze of a hangover, scenes from the bar, the dance, and the unexpected reunion with Freen played like fragments from a vivid dream.
Determined to find answers, I stood up and approached the door, which swung open, revealing my wife. Reality hit me like a wave—it wasn't a dream. Freen is alive. My heart pounded as if it had just reawakened from a long slumber without its rightful owner.
The room held a charged silence as Freen stood in the doorway, her presence both ethereal and undeniably real. The air seemed to hum with an unspoken tension, as if the very fabric of reality had shifted. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, time itself seemed to pause.
"I'm real, babe. I am alive," Freen's voice, a soothing caress, cut through the uncertainty in the room.
Taking a step forward, my gaze never leaving hers, I stammered, "Freen, how... I mean, what happened? I thought..." My words faltered, the weight of unspoken fears lingering in the air.
Freen closed the distance between us, her hand gently cupping my face. Before I could articulate the myriad questions crowding my mind, her lips pressed tenderly against mine. The kiss held a profound depth of emotion, a reunion of souls that had weathered storms of separation. As our lips met, a surge of electricity coursed through me, dispelling any lingering doubts. I reciprocated her kiss with a hunger born of longing and relief.
Then, in a flash, memories flooded back — her suggestion of divorce, witnessing her supposed demise, the urn that symbolized her departure, the agony of searching for her, the pain of thinking I had lost her. Yet, here she stood, alive!
In an eruption of emotion, I pushed her away and delivered a resounding slap. "How dare you!" I shouted at Freen.
Freen recoiled from the searing impact of the slap, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and hurt. The room, which had moments ago been filled with the tender promise of our reunion, now crackled with an intensity that bordered on explosive.
"How could you put me through that?" I demanded, my voice a raw symphony of anguish and frustration. "I suffered, Freen. I suffered as if I had truly lost you."
Collapsing onto the edge of the bed, my tears flowed freely, each one a testament to the pain that had clawed at my soul. I pounded the mattress with clenched fists, a physical manifestation of the turmoil raging within me.
"I-I was in too much p-pain," I stammered, my voice choking on the sobs. "If y-you just wanted to get r-rid of me that much, I will sign the divorce papers because at least y-you will be alive. I-I couldn't endure the pain... the pain of losing you."
Freen, her eyes now filled with a mix of regret and sadness, knelt beside me. "No, no, please, it wasn't about getting rid of you. I did it to protect you, to keep you safe. There were threats, dangers you couldn't even fathom. I had to disappear."
I looked at her, my eyes still brimming with tears, grappling with the conflicting emotions of love, betrayal, and the desperate need for answers.
"Please, don't sign anything yet. Let me explain everything," Freen pleaded, her voice laced with desperation. "I know I hurt you, but I had no choice. I had to make them believe I was gone. It was the only way to keep you safe."
Freen's desperate plea hung in the air, the weight of her words sinking into the silence that enveloped us. The room, once a haven of reunion, had transformed into a battleground of emotions, each heartbeat echoing the torment within.
"I don't know if I can trust anything you say anymore," I whispered, my voice strained with a mixture of pain and uncertainty. The revelation of her survival had brought not only relief but a searing betrayal that left me reeling.
Freen reached out, her touch gentle as she tried to wipe away my tears. "Please, just give me a chance to explain. I never wanted to hurt you. I was protecting you, protecting us."
I pulled away, the conflict within me intensifying. The room seemed to close in, the air heavy with the tension of the choices that now lay before me.
"Protecting us? By making me believe you were dead?" I shot back, my anger resurfacing. "Do you have any idea what I went through? The sleepless nights, the endless grief, the pain of imagining a life without you?"
Freen's eyes mirrored the ache in my own. "I know, and I'm so sorry. But if I did do it, they would have finished the job, they will kill me or worst they would have come after you and Zea. I had no choice but to disappear."
Her words, though filled with remorse, collided with my wounded trust. The echoes of her justification rang hollow, overshadowed by the scars left by her prolonged absence.
"Disappear? You made me believe you were gone forever!" I exclaimed, my voice a mixture of anguish and accusation. "I mourned you, Freen. I mourned you as if I had lost everything."
As Freen tried to reach for me again, I recoiled, my heart torn between the love I felt and the devastation her actions had wrought. The room, a witness to our tumultuous reunion, seemed to bear the weight of our fractured connection.
"Now, I don't know if I can ever look at you the same way again," I admitted, my voice heavy with the ache of betrayal.
Freen's eyes pleaded for understanding, but the wounds ran too deep, and forgiveness seemed like an elusive mirage in the vast desert of our shattered trust. As we sat in the aftermath of revelation, the room held a haunting stillness, a prelude to the uncertain path that now stretched before us.
Silence enveloped us, broken only by my deep cries.
My wife sat beside me, a profound silence enveloping the room, burdened with the weight of unspoken emotions. The tension in the air was palpable, amplified by the free flow of my tears. Freen, once a pillar of solace, now exuded a delicate uncertainty that mirrored the cracks in our shared history.
Even as I allowed myself the vulnerability of tears, Freen's silent yearning to offer comfort was evident. I sensed the boundaries we had erected between us, barriers born from the revelations of the past. Her hand hovered, a tentative gesture of support, only to retreat to her own lap—a silent acknowledgment of the growing chasm between us.
The room became a sanctuary for my grief, each sob breaking the heavy silence. Freen's eyes, a reflection of remorse and understanding, mirrored the complex tapestry of emotions that colored the air. The intermittent sounds of my cries reverberated, echoing the turmoil within.
After what felt like an eternity, my sobs subsided, leaving behind a hollow ache and an unsettling quiet. I wiped away tears with the back of my hand, avoiding eye contact with Freen, who patiently remained by my side.
Freen broke the silence with a gentle murmur, "I never wanted to hurt you. I had my reasons, though I know they will never justify the pain. But understand that, I love you. I love our daughter; you two are my everything. I will endure anything for you."
Glancing at her, my eyes portrayed a mosaic of emotions—hurt, anger, and the lingering tendrils of love refusing to dissipate entirely. The room, witness to our tumultuous reunion, held an atmosphere charged with unresolved tension.
"I need time," I whispered, my voice hoarse from the emotional storm. "Time to process everything, to figure out if I can rebuild the trust that was shattered."
Freen nodded, a sadness settling in her eyes. "I understand. I'll give you the time you need. Just know that I never wanted to lose you, and the pain you're feeling... I never wished it upon you."
As I steadied my breathing, a heavy silence enveloped us once more. Freen remained seated, a silent sentinel of support, yet a palpable barrier lingered between us.
"Make me understand," I finally broke the silence, the words carrying the weight of a plea for clarity in the midst of the lingering uncertainty.