Book 2: So, this is Forever
9 – Girlfriend
Becky's POV
Amidst the whirlwind of a demanding Monday morning, I found myself submerged in a towering stack of contracts and reports, each awaiting my careful review and approval. The air around me resonated with the symphony of productivity, accompanied by the rhythmic dance of keys on my keyboard.
A soft, considerate knock on the door momentarily disrupted the orchestration of tasks. Without diverting my gaze from the computer, I heard the gentle voice of my secretary, "There's a delivery for you," conveyed with a warm and understanding smile.
Engulfed in the demands of my workload, I absentmindedly responded, "Oh, just put it on the table, please. I'll attend to it later."
Noey complied, closing the door with a hushed click. As the familiar sounds of the office resumed their rhythmic pattern, a subtle yet cherished fragrance began to weave its way into the air, awakening my senses.
Seeking a brief respite from the contractual obligations, I shifted my gaze away from the screen, and there it was – a delicate bouquet of tulips, gracefully adorning the table.
Intrigued, I approached the table and tenderly unfolded the card attached to the bouquet. The words inside carried a sweetness that effortlessly melted away the stresses of the day: "For the Valentine's Day I missed. May your day be as beautiful as your smile, my love. Sealed with kisses and hugs that I should've given you for the month of February."
A gentle warmth enveloped my heart as I realized this thoughtful gesture was from Freen, my beloved wife. "How incredibly sweet," I whispered, a genuine and grateful smile gracing my lips, momentarily transporting me from the demands of the workday.
As I held the fragrant tulips, Freen's sweet words still lingering in the air, a warmth enveloped me, rekindling a deep connection to the love my wife and I share. The bouquet became a tangible expression of our journey, a reminder of the countless sweet tulip moments that had colored our time together since the beginning of our relationship.
Taking a brief pause to savor the sentiment, I placed the tulips with care in a prominent spot on my desk. Each vibrant petal seemed to echo the laughter and joy we'd shared over the years, creating a mini garden of memories right in the midst of my professional space.
With a renewed spirit, I delved back into the contracts and reports. The weight of the tasks remained, but this time, there was a subtle smile playing on my lips.
As the day unfolded, the delightful surprises continued, and I found myself receiving five more tulip bouquets, each accompanied by sweet words that warmed my heart.
The second bouquet not only held vibrant tulips but also a small teddy bear. The attached note touched my soul, "Seeing you on that day, March 6, was so tempting, so I bought this bear, and I've talked to him every day since then. Sending this one with all the restrained love I had for you." The words transported me back to the time I was in Kuwait, desperately searching for any trace of Freen's well-being.
The third bouquet carried a heartfelt message, "I hope the flowers remind you of all the love we've shared throughout the years. Sent with emotions of missing you for the month of April."
The fourth one evoked deeper emotions, "Sending these flowers for the days you spent in the hospital, exhausting yourself looking for me. I wanted to be there to hold you and tell you I love you and I'm so sorry."
The final note, however, was the sweetest and most romantic of all:
"This month we met again, and I felt your kisses once more. In each tulip, I've hidden the whispers of our love. Let each petal remind you of the warmth of our embrace, until your heart grants me forgiveness for all the months I was not with you. Again, I am so sorry Baby, Please know that I love you beyond words, Rebecca Patricia Armstrong Chankimha. Forever yours, your wife—Freen Sarocha Chankimha "
It served as a beautiful reminder of the enduring love that had weathered time and distance, culminating in a reconnection that reignited the flame between us.
As the day concluded, my desk transformed into a garden of tulips, each bouquet making me feel that she was there with me for the last six months, maybe not physically, but she was there. The acknowledgment of the absence and the plea for forgiveness makes my heart swell with love. Her messages were felt by my heart and soul, weaving a tapestry of love that transcended the challenges we faced.
"Oh, this woman surely knows how to get me," I declared with a playful sigh into the air. "But not just yet, my love," a mischievous grin painted my lips.
To appreciate her thoughtful gesture, I decided to send her a text using the secured phone she had given me for confidential conversations. "Thank you for all the flowers and making my office like a garden of tulips." I simply said, refraining from uttering any words of love.
____________________
Freen's POV
I know my team just dropped off the last bunch of tulips. Maybe my wife is reading the note I wrote, pouring out love and asking for forgiveness. I really miss her, and my heart just wants her here.
After a bit, I get a message from my wife. "Thanks for the flowers, turning my office into a tulip spot." I smile at her message, but I notice something's missing—no sweet words or lovey-dovey stuff. It makes my heart hurt a bit.
"Ugh! I need to finish up this work mess and get back to hugging and kissing my baby!" I say, hitting the top of my office table in frustration at the bar.
Not willing to give up on mending things and eager to keep working towards earning back my wife's forgiveness and trust, I shoot a message back to Becky, saying, "How about a date night later? I'll arrange for my guys to come get you."
With a few minutes of silence after my message, I decided to give her a call. Each ring built anticipation, and when she finally answered, there was a brief pause before I nervously broached the subject, "Hey, you haven't answered my message. So, how about that date night?"
"I... uhm... is it safe?" she asked cautiously.
"I'll make it safe. I'd really love to spend some quality time with you," I reassured.
"Okay, I guess. But I'll go to the bar on my own. No need to have your men get me. It will be less suspicious if I just go to a bar," she declared.
"I guess you're right. Will it be fine if the date night is just an indoor dinner at home?" I asked.
"Yeah, anything will do," she responded, a hint of warmth in her voice. It seemed like a small step, but the agreement to the date night at home felt like a bridge towards reconnecting, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and anticipation for the evening ahead.
"Hey, gotta end the call, I have a last-minute meeting with investors. I'll message you when I'm already at your bar," my wife declared.
"Alright, baby! I lo..." I couldn't finish my words when I heard the beeping sound indicating the end of the call.
I let out a deep sigh. "Oh, baby, you're lucky I love you; I can't get mad at you," I muttered.
I messaged my people to buy some ingredients so that I could cook later for my dinner date with my wife. Then, I continued with my task, finalizing the last pieces of evidence to make my cousin pay for the crimes he did to our company.
Diving into the details of the task, a few hours passed, and then I heard my phone buzz. "I'm here," a message from Becky.
I looked at the CCTV monitor, and there I saw my wife, seated in the end corner, looking so beautiful in her office dress. Taking charge of the situation, I swiftly directed my men to bring her to my office.
The anticipation and excitement surged within me as I prepared to wrap up my work and join her for a night that promised reconnection and shared moments.
___________________
Becky's POV
As I entered the bar, a subtle energy pulsed through the air, infusing the atmosphere with vibrancy. Opting for a cozy corner, I immersed myself in the ambiance, savoring the familiarity of the surroundings and the memories woven into the walls.
Seated in my chosen spot, I promptly notified my wife of my arrival through a swift text: "I'm here." Her immediate response illuminated my screen: "I'll send someone to get you."
After a brief wait, a friendly member of the bar staff approached with a warm smile, conveying, "Boss Sam requests your presence in her office."
"Boss Sam?" I inquired.
"Yes, ma'am, the owner of the bar," she clarified.
"But I thought my wife, Freen, owns this bar," the thought struck me. Intrigued, I followed the staff member through the lively bar, where laughter and the clinking of glasses created a spirited backdrop to the early evening.
Upon reaching the office, the staff member knocked and opened the door.
"Boss Sam, your guest is here," she declared.
My wife, seated in her chair, raised her head, a smile immediately gracing her lips.
"Come in, Mrs. Chankimha. Thank you for granting your time for this meeting," she announced, nodding to her staff.
"I'll be going, Boss Sam," the staff said, closing the door.
"Sorry for that. I had to make her think you are here for a business meeting," Freen explained, walking towards me for an embrace. I allowed it, but I refrained from reciprocating.
"It's alright; I understand," I replied, releasing myself from her hug and settling onto the couch.
I observed her shoulders dropping, realizing that I hadn't returned her embrace. A smirk played on my lips.
Returning to her office chair, she requested, "Can you give me at least thirty minutes to finish a few more tasks?"
"Sure, I'll just be here," I agreed.
As she focused on her computer, I broke the silence, "So, you're Sam now?"
"Well, yeah. I can't let people here know my real name. But I'll always be Freen Sarocha Chankimha, your wife," she said, looking at me and playfully winking.
I felt a flush in my cheeks, realizing I blushed at her remark and playful wink. Refusing to let her win, I retorted, "Really now? Are you? Because people know my wife died six months ago." The banter fell flat, and I saw her smile fade into sadness. I immediately regretted my words. "Hey, I'm so..." I began to apologize, but my words were cut short as the door swung open.
A woman entered, confidently making her way toward Freen. To my astonishment, she pushed Freen's swivel chair, creating space as she sat on her lap—on my wife's lap. "I missed you, Sam," she uttered, caressing Freen's shoulder.
Fury surged within me as I witnessed the unfolding scene.
Freen, equally shocked, stood up abruptly, releasing the woman from her lap. "N-nita! What are you doing? I have a guest," she stammered, gesturing towards me.
"Oh! I'm sorry; I didn't notice," the lady said, gracefully making her way towards me.
Extending her hand, she introduced herself with a confident smile, "Hi, I'm Nita, Sam's business partner of this bar and Sam's girlfriend," she declared.
"You're not!" Freen exclaimed, and our eyes met in a moment of shared surprise.
"It's just a matter of time before it becomes true, Sam, so let me just claim it," Nita giggled, her tone dripping with playful confidence.
I felt a mix of emotions—disbelief, frustration, and a subtle undercurrent of jealousy.
I reached for her hand and introduced myself. "Nice to meet you. I'm Rebecca Patricia Armstrong." I purposefully left out Chankimha, subtly pissing off Freen.
"Chankimha!" my wife exclaimed. "You forgot your last name, Becky," Freen shot daggers at me with her eyes.
"Well, yeah, if you say so," I responded, maintaining a composed facade.
"Nice to meet you too, Rebecca," Nita said. "So sorry you witnessed that earlier."
"It's alright. No worries," I assured her, maintaining a diplomatic tone.
"Sam, I think I better go; you seem to have some business first with Nita. I'll wait for you downstairs so we can go to our meeting with the investors," I declared, walking toward the door.
"No, you can wa—"
Not allowing my wife's words to finish, Nita cut her off. "Yeah, we'll be sure to be quick-ie," she said, waving at me as I closed the door behind me.
Leaning against the hallway wall, I took a deep breath, attempting to process the unexpected turn of events. The muffled voices from the closed door hinted at a conversation I wasn't part of.
As I waited for Freen to join me, the echoes of the conversation lingered in the air, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the dynamics between Freen and Nita were more complex than I had initially thought.
Freen arrived at my side, her expression a mix of apology and concern. Without uttering a word, she gestured for us to walk towards the back door where her car awaited.
As we navigated through the lively bar, the vibrant sounds of laughter and clinking glasses provided a sharp contrast to the emotional tension that lingered between us. I couldn't resist stealing glances at Freen, attempting to discern the thoughts racing through her mind.
Stepping outside into the cool evening air, the soft hum of the bar's activities faded behind us, and the back door closed with a muted thud, leaving us in momentary silence. Freen turned to face me, her eyes searching for understanding.
In a shared silence, we walked to her car. The evening air carried a chill, and the distant city lights painted a backdrop to the unfolding drama.
Once inside the car, Freen took a deep breath, as if bracing herself for the conversation that awaited.
"Rebecca, I'm so sorry about what just happened. Nita's presence here caught me off guard, and just so you know, she is not my girlfriend. I am married, I am married to you. Nothing will change that. So please, never leave out your last name; it hurts me," she uttered, her words carrying a sense of urgency.
"Well, I don't see any proof on your fingers. So if you're single, then I am as single as much as you are," I declared, raising my brows in a defiant manner.
Freen's eyes widened in surprise, and she immediately reached out to show me the wedding ring that had been hanging as a pendant on her necklace. "Becky, I wear it all the time. You know how much this means to me. I just had to hide it, to hide my identity. I'm your wife, and nothing has changed in that regard."
"Don't hide it! I don't care if you are hiding for now. But make sure everyone knows you are mine," I said, ripping the necklace and sliding the ring onto her finger.
Then, without another word, I kissed her. The lingering tension seemed to dissipate in that moment, replaced by the reassurance of our connection. As we pulled away from the kiss, the weight of the recent events felt momentarily lifted, and the car continued its journey into the night, carrying us forward together.
As we pulled away, a subtle smile played on Freen's lips, and a sense of serenity settled between us. The weight of the recent events seemed to have lifted, replaced by the unspoken understanding that our bond was resilient.
"Becky," Freen whispered, her voice carrying the softness of the night breeze, "I love you, and I'm committed to making things right."
"Fine!" I groaned in frustration. "I love you too. You know that! I wanted to make you work harder to win me over for a longer period of time. That's your punishment for making me believe you are dead for six months. But, your irresistible charm, coupled with those sweet words, broke down my defenses—especially after seeing that woman boldly claiming you as hers. Ugh! Such a flirt!" I continued, letting out my pent-up emotions.
Freen chuckled, "Oh, my jealous baby. Don't worry; I'll keep putting in effort to ensure you keep loving me." She gently held my hand and cupped my face. "Now, can you please say those words again?"
I rolled my eyes playfully at her teasing, a hint of a smile breaking through my frustrated facade. "Fine, fine. I love you, Freen Sarocha Chankimha," I said, emphasizing her full name with a playful pout.
Freen's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she grinned in response. "Ah, there's my enchanting wife, forever making my heart dance. I love you too, my baby!" This time, she took the lead, gently pulling me into a kiss that spoke volumes of longing and devotion.
The world outside the car seemed to melt away in the embrace of our passion. The soft glow of city lights reflected in her eyes, mirroring the warmth that enveloped us. Freen's kiss was a tender declaration, a promise to rekindle the flame of our love and forge ahead hand in hand.
As our lips parted, a shared smile illuminated our faces, and a lingering sense of connection filled the air. The city lights painted a romantic backdrop, as if nature itself conspired to celebrate our reunion.
"I've yearned for this, Becky," Freen whispered, her voice a soft caress, echoing the depths of her feelings.
"And I for you, Freen," I replied, the tenderness in her words weaving a tapestry of emotions that only deepened our connection.
With our fingers still entwined, Freen continued to navigate the night, the cityscape unfolding before us like a canvas of endless possibilities. In this moment of rediscovery, we embraced the romance of the journey ahead, ready to dance through the challenges and savor the sweetness of love rekindled.
Author's note:
Here is another update!
Missing your thoughts, dear readers – drop some votes and comments, give me the fuel to keep the writing momentum going, hahaha.
Kidding aside I just wanna know your thoughts
Also, quick heads up: I'm in the drafting phase for the other story I mentioned before. It's going to be titled "How to be Loved." Another FreenBeck tale????. Stay tuned!
Have a nice evening, fellas!