My heart pounded in my chest as I stood frozen in the doorway of Sam's office, the scene before me painting a devastating image. There, in the dimly lit room, were Sam and Nita, locked in a passionate embrace. It felt as if my world had shattered into a million irreparable pieces. It was as if someone had ripped my heart out of my chest, leaving me breathless and utterly shattered.
As Sam locked eyes with me, the color drained from her face, and a sense of guilt and betrayal hung heavy in the air. But Nita smirked at my devastation. Her eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction as she taunted, "Oopsies." She was reveling in the pain she had caused me.
I couldn't bear it any longer. I dashed away from the heartbreaking sight and fled to the elevator. Just as the doors began to close, Sam barged in, desperation written all over her face. She reached out to me, but I recoiled. I swatted away her hand with a mixture of anguish and rage.
Sam stammered out an explanation. She claimed it wasn't her fault; she had a migraine. Nita was merely massaging her head, and it escalated from there. But I refused to entertain her excuses. I retreated to a corner, feeling utterly cornered and vulnerable.
Then Sam's gaze fell upon my clearly visible baby bump. Confusion clouded her features as she knit her eyebrows and questioned, "Mon, are you pregnant?"
"Yes, I am," I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes.
Instead of offering comfort or understanding, Sam's eyes narrowed with suspicion. Holding me from my shoulders, "Is this his child?" she demanded, her nails digging painfully into my shoulders. The accusation cut me to the core, it felt like I was being torn apart by Sam's distrust and this unexpected twist of suspicion.
I couldn't bear the weight of Sam's disbelief and betrayal any longer. I summoned every ounce of strength within me and pushed Sam away. And then, in a moment of raw anguish and fury, I slapped her across her face—a gesture I never fathomed myself capable of.
"I came here to congratulate you that the IVF process was a success and you're finally going to become a mother." I seethed through my tears. "But you're a monster, Sam. You disgust me." The elevator heaved to a grinding halt, its low hum abruptly replaced by a disquieting silence. I stood at the threshold, my hand hesitating over the cool metal of the exit. I drew in a shaky breath, then turned back to look at Sam one final time. My gaze met hers, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between us.
"I'll ensure that my child remains untouched by your presence," I declared, my voice a whisper yet echoing with resolve. The words lingered in the air, a haunting promise that draped over the space between us. And with that, I stepped out into the unforgiving light, leaving behind the shadow of a love that once was.
With those words, I turned and fled from the suffocating confines of Sam's office.
I rushed into my bedroom, breathing heavily. I locked the door behind me, the metallic click echoing the finality of my situation.
I slid down the door, my body shaking with sobs that tore through me. The tears flowed freely, a river of sorrow and despair. "My life has ended," I thought to myself, the words echoing hollowly in the empty room. "I'm never going to love someone the way I loved Sam, she was my world, my future. What will I do without her?"
YOU ARE READING
This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
FanficSamanun Anantrakul (Sam) and Konkarmon Armstrong (Mon) have been in a loving and apparently solid marriage for four years. Sam, a prominent Thai royal and successful businesswoman, is deeply respected, and Mon, her devoted wife, has been there for h...