The Second Marriage Chance

Sarah

It felt like drifting through an endless dream, each moment stretching into eternity. After my firstborn’s death, grief enveloped me like a suffocating shroud. I retreated, closing my heart and mind to the outside world. Joy became a foreign concept, a distant memory I could no longer grasp.

Nothing could penetrate the fog of my sorrow because deep down, I knew I was fundamentally broken-I was not okay.

Just like then, my mind feels closed off, wrapped in a thick layer of ice. Driving aimlessly, stopping several times to watch the setting sun.

I’m heading into darkness, but whenever I hear my children’s voices… Philip… these beloved sounds tug at me, urging me to turn back towards the fading light.

But why did I also hear my mother’s voice?

I resume my journey. The world around me has been leached of color as if a cosmic artist has erased all pigment from the canvas of reality.

I’m traveling through an endless road surrounded by empty deserts. The monotony should be overwhelming, yet I find a strange peace in this long journey.

***

Consciousness seeped in slowly, like water seeping through sand. I tried to open my eyes, but everything was a hazy blur, with shapes and colors mixing together. A sharp pain started to throb in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the pain would go away, trying to let myself adjust.

But my entire body felt numb-my flesh, my veins, even my bones seemed to have lost all sensation.

A repetitive beep… beep… beep echoed in my ears. As the feeling returned, pain spread through my body-a deep ache in my back, sharp cramps in my legs, and various other discomforts I couldn’t quite identify.

‘Is this heaven?’

A strong smell of medicines and antiseptic filled the air, making me feel nauseous.

Suddenly, the door swung open harshly, and five individuals walked in, their uniforms identifying them as medical staff. One of them approached me, a man with salt-and-pepper hair.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Ms. Benner, please don’t be alarmed. I’m Dr. Harper, the head of the medical team overseeing your care. We’re going to conduct a brief examination now.”

I tried to respond, but my throat felt lined with sandpaper. No sound came out. I nodded as fragmented memories started to return.

Philip’s face flashed in my mind’s eye… Marcus, his gun raised… The deafening crack of a gunshot… My husband’s shoulder is blooming red…

Fear gripped me. Is Philip alive? Where are my children?

The medical team babbled in German, and I couldn’t keep up. I heard something about my movement setting off an alert. I glanced around and noticed a camera in the corner with a red light blinking. They checked my vitals, asking questions I could barely focus on. Eventually, with their assistance, I managed to sit up in bed, the movement sending waves of pain through my body.

“Where am I?” The words came out as a raspy whisper, directing my question to Dr. Harper when he and another doctor were alone with me.

“You’re in a hospital facility here in Berlin,” he replied.

Germany? Of all places, how did I end up here? Did Philip send me away? Who brought me to this foreign land?

“Where is my family? Why am I here?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Before Dr. Harper could answer, the door swung open again, and we all turned to look. My lips parted in shock as I saw the familiar round eyes that mirrored mine. There stood my mother, looking older than the last time I saw her.

Could this truly be heaven? How else could I explain my mother’s presence in this strange, unsettling scenario?

Dr. Harper addressed my mother, saying, “Madam, your daughter is still in shock and may have many questions when she’s more alert. As for her health, her vitals are steadily improving. Her blood pressure has stabilized, and her oxygen levels are within normal range. We’ll continue monitoring her closely here in the hospital until she’s fully recovered, which may take several weeks to a month, depending on her progress.”

My mother nodded in response.

I managed to ask, “W-why are you here?”

Her features coming into focus. “I’m Mariano, Sarah…”

My lips parted in surprise. She then explained everything-how she survived at Palm Beach and why she had disappeared from my life for so long. Despite my physical weakness, my hands clenched the thin hospital blanket covering me.

“I’m truly sorry. I know it’s been a long time since we last saw each other, and I’ve been hiding for a while. I needed to do that to protect you. Please forgive me, daughter…”

Despite her emotional plea, I wasn’t crying. Maybe I had accepted her absence, or perhaps I didn’t fully understand, or maybe all the problems, resentments, and pain I’d endured had simply rendered everything insignificant.

“W-why am I here? Why am I under your care? Where’s my husband? Where’s my children?” the words tumbled out, and my mind raced with questions.

“Philip Cornell and your children are at Highland Hills. I asked him to bring you here to Germany because a friend of mine could provide you with advanced medical care. At first, Philip was reluctant and didn’t want to move you from Dr. Ethan Vanderbilt’s care. But you nearly died the night before I brought you here…”

She hesitated before continuing, “Eight bullets were removed from your body, all inflicted by Marcus. Under normal circumstances, you could have died right there. Josh got you to the hospital just in time, and you underwent emergency surgery. Overall, you came close to dying three times due to complications and blood loss.”

“Shit,” I muttered, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “I’m practically a mutant at this point.” I couldn’t believe the extent of what had happened to me.

“If there had been a fourth instance,” Mother continued solemnly, “you certainly wouldn’t have survived. Even Dr. Vanderbilt explained this to Philip, which is ultimately why he agreed to transfer you here.”

“H-how long have I been here?”

“Eighteen months,” my mother replied. My lips parted in shock as the weight of her words sank in. “You’ve been unconscious for almost two years… Just a moment; I’ll call Philip to let him know you’re awake.”

“No! P-please, don’t!” I protested.

The thought of Philip and my kids seeing me like this filled me with dread. I could smell the mustiness of unwashed skin and stale hospital air on me. Months without proper care? My hand went to my hair, which felt like brittle straw-tangled and lifeless.

My skin was nearly as pale as bond paper, and my once-toned arms were now just sticks. This wasn’t the body I remembered. This wasn’t me.

I explained to my mother, “Philip has already been through so much. I wouldn’t want my children to see me like this… I… I’ll do my best to make up for it. Please, don’t tell him that I’ve woken up.”

Over the next month, I stayed in Germany, dedicating myself fully to my recovery. I immersed myself in physical therapy, nutritional support, and countless hours of personal care. This period also allowed me to reconnect with my mother, bridging the gap created by years of separation. I missed my family terribly, but I didn’t want to be a burden.

It turned out that Josh had become the twins’ bodyguard, forming a close bond with my children. I can’t help but smile at the thought of him.

Finally, the day came for my return to Highland Hills. It was noon when the plane touched down, and coincidentally, Philip’s birthday.

“Ms. Mitchell,” Mariano’s assistant said, pulling me from my thoughts, “where would you like to go first? According to Josh, your children are at school and will be leaving kindergarten soon. Mr. Cornell is at Luminary Production’s office,”

“I want to visit…”