The conference room at Donovan Law Firm buzzed with tension as Sarah Cadwell sat rigidly at the polished oak table, her auburn hair neatly pulled back. Her hazel eyes, a blend of green and gold, darted nervously between the legal documents before her and the imposing figure of David Cadwell across the table. The opulent space, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and sleek decor, felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the warmth of her grandmother's home. Beside her sat Rachel Donovan, her lawyer and steadfast ally with her dark ponytail and moderate make up. Opposite them, David flanked by his attorney, a stern man in a gray suit, exuded a cold confidence that contradicted the chaos of the past weeks.
Sarah's timid nature, forged in the crucible of her abusive childhood, clung to her like a second skin. Her father's violent rages and her mother's indifference had left deep scars, making trust with men a fragile bridge she'd only begun to cross with David. His gentle love and the care nurtured by her grandmother, Mrs. Ellis Grayson after her parents' fatal car crash, had once been her salvation. But now, that love lay shattered, the evidence of his serial infidelity with Lisa Hargrove and countless others, a throbbing wound that refused to heal. But despite her insecurities, her courage was bolstered by Rachel's presence.
Rachel leaned forward, her voice steady and authoritative. "Mr. Cadwell, my client is filing for divorce and seeks half of all marital assets—Cadwell Enterprises shares, the Cadwell Mansion and any other properties or investments. This is non-negotiable given the evidence of your infidelity."
David's face darkened, his taut frame tensing as his cold gray eyes narrowed. His nose twitched, a result of suppressed rage, and his dark blond hair, neatly styled, framed a visage twisted with indignation.
With a sudden, violent motion, he slammed his fist on the table, the sound reverberating like a gunshot. The papers fluttered, and Sarah flinched, her childhood memories of her father's outbursts flashing before her. "Half?" he roared, his voice a guttural snarl. "I built that empire from nothing! You'll get nothing, Sarah—I'll leave your sorry ass out on the streets where you belong!" His attorney placed a restraining hand on his arm, but David shrugged it off, his chest heaving with barely contained fury.
The meeting adjourned shortly after, the air thick with hostility. As Sarah and Rachel exited the law firm, stepping into the crisp March air, David burst through the doors behind them. His demeanor had shifted in an instant, this theatrical transformation that caught Sarah off guard. He dropped to his knees on the sidewalk, his hands clasped in a desperate plea, his gray eyes glistening with crocodile tears that streaked down his gaunt cheeks. His voice cracked as he wailed, "Sarah, please, come back to me! I was wrong—forgive me! I can't live without you!" His face contorted into a mask of anguish, every line engraved with faked sincerity, his lips trembling as he reached out to her. Strangers passing by slowed as their gazes shifted to Sarah with pity as they gave her "the look"—a mix of judgment and sympathy, as if she were the villain for abandoning this broken man.
David's performance was a masterclass in manipulation. His broad shoulders slumped, his posture a picture of defeat, yet his eyes flickered with a Calculative gleam, but unknown to Sarah he was gauging her reaction. His breaths came in shuddering gasps, each sob a deliberate attempt at guilt-tripping. "I'll change, I swear," he sobbed, his voice rising to draw more attention. "Don't throw away what we had—think of the love we built!" The crowd murmured, their disapproval aimed at Sarah, amplifying the moral pressure he wielded like a weapon.
Sarah's heart quivered, a sharp pang threatening to crumble her resolve. The timid girl inside her, shaped by years of seeking approval, nearly succumbed to the familiar pull of his once-gentle voice. But then, like a sudden storm, the Bluetooth speaker's replay echoed in her mind: "You know I hate going back home to her after you." The words sliced through her, a brutal reminder of his betrayal—not just with Lisa, but with a parade of women she'd never met, a serial cheat whose love had been a lie. Her chest tightened, her breath hitching as she fought to keep her composure.
She straightened her posture, her shoulders squaring despite the tremble in her knees. Her hands, clasped tightly in front of her emerald-green dress, to hide the clammy sweat as she lifted her chin, adopting a poker face that masked the unrest within. Her hazel eyes, though glistening with unshed tears, locked onto David's with a steely resolve. "No, David," she said, her voice low but firm, each word measured to conceal the emotional storm raging inside. "I won't come back. You don't know what love is—you'll cheat again, and I won't be your fool anymore." Her lips pressed into a thin line, her freckled cheeks flushed but unyielding. Sarah turned away, her steps deliberate as she followed Rachel to the car, her poker face holding until she slid into the passenger seat.
David's face contorted, his crocodile tears drying as anger simmered beneath his facade. He rose slowly, his fists clenching at his sides, the knuckles whitening under the strain. His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching near his nose, and his gray eyes darkened with a silent fury that radiated from his rigid stance. His chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath a suppressed growl. [I can't let her go unpunished], he thought, his mind racing. [Since she won't come to her senses, I will make her come to her senses by force]. He picked up his phone and started making calls. The crowd dispersed, oblivious to the dangerous intent brewing in his silence, his clenched fists a promise of retribution he kept hidden behind his forced calmness.
As Sarah and Rachel drove, reality set in. Sarah realized she had little clothing with her, now that the divorce was filed. Returning to live in the Cadwell Mansion seemed unwise, given David's volatile reaction. She asked Rachel to detour there, in other to retrieve essentials. Upon arrival, she found the door locked and her key and password, no longer working. She asked the security, who informed her that the lock and password was changed few moments ago. In the end Sarah had to return empty handed.
On her way back to Elm Street, she stopped for groceries, only to have her credit card declined. A call from the bank followed, a cold and professional voice informing her that her access to David's accounts had been revoked, his heartlessness stripping her of financial support without warning.
Sarah fell to her knees on the sidewalk, her shopping bags scattering as tears streamed down her face. She couldn't believe her once-loving husband had turned so cold and heartless, locking her out without a heads-up. Though this was expected, it's just her who didn't act fast enough, there was no point in crying. [So it has come to this] she thought, as she picked herself up.
Thankfully, she had her personal account, where she'd saved monthly stipends—a small lifeline from her cautious nature.
Back at Mrs. Ellis, she collapsed into her grandmother's arms, narrating out the whole ordeal. "He locked me out, Granny—froze my card. I have nothing left," she wailed, her voice raw. Mrs. Ellis held her tightly, her lilac cardigan soft against Sarah's cheek, her wise eyes misty with guilt. "I'm so sorry, dear," she murmured. "I blame myself for introducing that kind of person to you. I thought he was good." She considered calling David's mother, battling cancer for years, but decided against it, not wanting to aggravate her condition.
Sarah's tears slowed as a new goal took root. [I need a job], she realized, wiping her face. She rose, and moved to the small desk in Mrs. Ellis's guest room. With a notepad and pen, she began drafting applications, her hands steadying with each word. The timid girl she'd been was fading, replaced by a woman ready to fight for her independence, she now had a new goal in mind, and achieving this goal set her on a path of independence.