Sarah’s POV
“Aren’t you getting off miss?.” The driver cut me off from my thought immediately. I shaked my head twice to return to my right senses and the moment I touched my cheeks gently, I realized tears had started dropping down from them.
I was just so lost in thought that I had forgotten that the car had stopped already. “Oh yeah.” I exclaimed.
“Sorry for the interruption,” the driver apologized, his eyes darting to the rear-view mirror as I opened the door.
The night air was a cold slap to my tear-stained cheeks, snapping me back to the present. I stepped out of the car while my legs felt as unsteady as my heart.
“No need to apologize,” I muttered as I handed over the fare and turned away before the driver could catch another glimpse of my distress.
“Over here ma’am.” The security guard’s deep voice jolted me out of my daze, beckoning me towards the open front door. I followed his gesture towards the exposed entrance, the inside of the hotel was visible through the clear glass panels.
“Thanks,” I muttered, managing a small smile as the guard helped me carry my luggage through the heavy doors.
The reception area was majestic, its beauty and style coming from the pretty furniture, shiny lights, and marble floor. As I approached the receptionist, a tall, immaculately dressed man with a friendly smile, I took a deep breath, attempting to put on a brave face despite the turmoil I felt inside. “Welcome ma’am.” He uttered and I nodded my head twice and forced another smile.
“For how long would you be staying?.” He questioned and let out another warm smile. The receptionist’s smile was contagious, and I couldn’t help but reciprocate his warmth, despite the storm raging inside me.
“A week should be enough,” I replied, though I knew I couldn’t stay much longer, as I had plans to move on. Richard had made it clear where I stood in his life: nowhere. His actions had left me feeling devalued and disrespected. Martin’s words rang in my mind, urging me to seize control of my life. I had no ties to hold me back, no loyalty to maintain.
My reverie was interrupted as the receptionist returned, her smile never wavering. “Here you go, ma’am,” He said.
“Huh?”
“Your keys.” He added, handling me the keys to my room as he let out another warm smile. This time, Yet this time, the smile felt almost forced, as though it was nothing more than a veneer of hospitality.
With a nod of thanks, I took the keys and began to make my way towards the elevator. As I walked, I tried to shake off the unease that had settled over me.
The moment I got into my room, I heard my phone ring out abruptly. I quickly answered, bracing myself for the conversation to come. “Hey mom.” I uttered while I kept my phone 1 inch away from my ear. I knew If I told mom about my divorce with Richard, she would scream the hell out, so I was very prepared this moment.
“Hey, Sarah! How did it go? Any news?” Mom’s eager voice came through the line, her excitement palpable even through the phone. My heart sank, and I inhaled deeply, steeling myself. “Mom, I need to tell you something,” I said while my voice began to quiver slightly.
For so long, Mom had been my rock, my pillar of support. In my darkest moments with Richard, she’d been the one to pick me up, dust me off, and urge me to stay strong. But now, as I stood on the precipice of shattering her expectations, I felt my knees begin to buckle.
How could I explain that my loyalty and goodness hadn’t been enough? That despite my best efforts, Richard had left me in the cold? That I felt worthless, alone, and unable to hold onto the life I once knew?
“Go on baby, did it go well?” She questioned once again.
Mom’s voice on the other end of the line was all it took to trigger the dam of emotions that had been building inside of me. I tried to speak, to find the words to explain, but my throat felt like it was being clenched in an invisible fist. The cruel words and deeds of Richard echoed in my mind, and I felt myself drowning in the misery of it all.
“Mom,” I choked out, my voice barely audible over the lump in my throat. “It’s Richard… we… we got a divorce.”
“What?, how is this possible and how could you not inform me about these Sarah. No!. It wouldn’t just end this way!” Mum’s outraged words slammed into me like a freight train, compounding the guilt and shame that already weighed so heavily on my heart. Before I could even formulate a response, the line went dead.
I stood there, alone in my hotel room, the echoes of Mum’s disapproval ringing in my ears. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I sank to the floor, cradling my head in my hands. I felt like a failure, unable to keep my marriage afloat or even keep my mother’s approval.