RIP Samuel

"Good morning, sweetheart."

Sean kissed Samantha’s lips.

"Good morning to you too, sweetheart. You're already awake?"

Samantha asked in surprise. She was usually the one who woke up first.

Samantha looked for her phone on the nightstand but couldn’t find it.

"Where's my phone, Sean?" she asked, confused, looking around.

"I already threw it away," Sean said casually without a hint of guilt.

"Why did you throw it away? It was still working fine, Sean. Don’t just throw it out like that."

"Well, where's the spoiled girl who always used the latest releases and top brands?"

Sean teased, knowing Samantha’s luxurious past.

"Things have changed, Sean. So much can change in the blink of an eye."

Sam smiled, gazing softly at Sean’s face.

"But some things haven’t changed."

"What hasn’t changed? What is it, Sean?"

Samantha asked curiously.

"This." Sean touched her core that was still tight for him. "You’re so delicious, baby."

"Ugh, Seaaaan, you’re such a perv,"

Samantha whined playfully, her face flushed red in embarrassment.

"When your cheeks blush like that, I just want more, baby."

Sean then kissed Samantha’s lips.

"You always make me addicted, Sam."

He kissed her lips again.

***

By noon, they finally left the hotel to enjoy the city of Paris.

"Let’s explore the city, Sam," Sean invited.

"Let’s go! If we stay in the room any longer, we’ll never get to explore. You’re too pervy."

"But you like it, don’t you?"

Sean said as he pinched Samantha’s pointed nose, and the girl pouted playfully at the man she loved so much.

Sean and Samantha enjoyed their time together, laughing, joking, and being affectionate. After a long walk, they soaked in the beauty of Paris.

"Sean, wait for me,"

Samantha whined playfully when she saw Sean jogging ahead.

"I want to see you walk like that, baby... come here, Sam,"

Sean said, leaning back while watching her approach.

They had a romantic dinner together as if there were no more problems, no obstacles to their relationship.

After returning to the hotel, Samantha fell asleep from exhaustion.

Sean sat on the chair near the window with a glass of wine in his hand. His eyes stared blankly out the window at the glittering city lights of Paris, but his thoughts were far away in London.

He had just received a message from Stella about Samuel’s death.

The message left him silent for a long time.

He knew sooner or later Samantha would find out. But not now.

Not in this moment when she could finally smile again, even just briefly, after months of grief and destruction.

Sean looked at Samantha’s phone, hidden in the hotel’s safe. He decided to delay the painful truth.

"Forgive me, Sam... But I can’t destroy your smile again. Just let me protect you... even if only for a little while."

The next morning, when Samantha asked about her phone again, Sean changed the subject, responding with hugs, kisses, and playful teasing to distract her.

Sean truly wanted to make Samantha’s days in Paris the perfect escape from a cruel world.

And when Samantha laughed, Sean knew he had to hold on to that smile for as long as he could... before he could no longer hide the fact that Samantha’s biological father was gone forever.

***

In London

"I’m sorry, Mrs. Johansson. Mr. Samuel Peter could not be saved,"

a doctor said to Stella.

Stella was heartbroken. She cried over Samuel’s death. No matter what, Samuel loved her. He treated her very well, like his own daughter. He always granted her wishes, and she loved him too.

Samuel played a big role in Stella’s life. Since she was 8, when Mommy Jean married Samuel, Samuel rarely saw Samantha, his biological daughter, but many photos of Samantha decorated their house.

Even Samuel’s phone wallpaper was a photo of Samantha.

Stella felt jealous. She tried to gain Samuel’s attention, tried to become his pride, but she always lost to Samantha.

Samantha was spoiled, living in luxury—unlike Stella, who lived modestly. Jean never allowed Stella to live lavishly like Samantha. Jean always said they were lucky Samuel married her and supported their life.

To Stella, Samantha was like a parasite. Ever since Samantha moved to London, all of Samuel’s affection shifted to her. But Samantha was no longer the spoiled and cheerful girl she used to be—she had changed, and Stella saw sadness in Samantha’s eyes.

Samantha became quieter and no longer cared for luxury items. She took the bus to her campus, didn’t socialize with friends, and became a closed-off girl. She often saw Samantha crying at night, making her wonder how such a beautiful girl could change so drastically.

Stella began to feel sorry for her. Despite everything, Samantha always treated her kindly.

Her biological father was irresponsible and ended up selling her to Sean. Stella had to part ways with the one she loved most—Willy Bradley, her fiancé.

She left Willy just like that. Stella didn’t want to tell him her problems. She preferred to bear all the pain and suffering alone.

After the marriage, she didn’t find happiness but was met with harsh treatment and indifference from her husband.

After marrying Sean, Samantha became even more withdrawn, colder, and more distant. She often locked herself in her room.

Sean also seemed indifferent toward Samantha; they barely spoke or even had small talk. Stella tried to understand—maybe that was just Sean’s nature.

Sean once told Stella that he loved a woman more than anything. A girl from California whom he deeply loved.

Stella still remembered his painful words:

"I love a girl. She’s very precious to me. Never fall in love with me because it’s useless," Sean said coldly.

"Then why did you marry me?" Stella asked.

"I need you for something. Once I no longer need you, I’ll divorce you," Sean said, ignoring Stella’s feelings.

It hurt Stella so much. She wanted to scream and fight back, but she couldn’t.

Back to the present, she tried contacting Samantha.

"Sam, where are you?"

Stella had been trying to call her, but her phone was off.

"I’ll try calling Sean to ask where she is."

She called Sean several times, but there was no answer. She decided to send him a message.

Stella: Sean, sorry to bother you… Daddy Samuel passed away, Sean. My sister can’t be reached, and I don’t know where she is. Please help me find her, Sean.

After waiting a while, there was still no reply from her husband.

Stella sighed in disappointment.

Why was Sean becoming more unreachable despite everything she had done? Her life felt so heavy since marrying Sean.

"Stella?" a man’s voice called.

"Willy?" Stella couldn’t believe she ran into Willy again after almost a year apart.

"Why are you crying, Stella?"

Willy saw her sadness.

"Daddy Samuel passed away, Will," Stella said.

"I’m so sorry, Stel," Willy said, hugging her.

Stella felt a comforting warmth in Willy’s embrace—her former fiancé.

"Where’s your husband and sister? Why are you alone?"

"Sean’s away for work, and my sister Sam… I don’t know where she is. I can’t reach her."

"Oh, sorry… I just hugged you like that."

Willy looked flustered.

"It’s okay, Will. I actually wanted that hug,” Stella smiled at him.

"Why are you at this hospital, Will?" she asked curiously.

"I was transferred to this hospital a month ago."

"Now we’re actually closer than ever."

Stella just listened to Willy’s words.

He used to work as a doctor at another hospital in a different city. They were together for 5 years and engaged, but the engagement ended because Stella was forced to marry Sean.

"Are you happy, Stella?"

Willy looked at her with concern.

Their five-year relationship wasn’t short. He could sense what was going on, even without words.

"I’m happy, Wil," Stella lied with a fake smile.

"Why do you seem so different, not like before?"

Willy felt sorry for her.

"You sound like a psychic, Wil. I’m happy, healthy, all good,"

Stella replied with a small laugh to hide everything. Not everyone needed to know what really happened in her life.

"I miss you..." Willy looked at her sadly.

"Will… I—"

Stella couldn’t speak. But she didn’t want to give him false hope,

"I’m sorry. I’m married."

She lifted her head, holding back tears.

"Alright, I understand."

Willy gave her a sincere smile, his best and most cherished ex-fiancée.

"But can we still be friends?" he asked hesitantly.

Stella was silent for a moment.

Could being friends with a former fiancé she still loved cause problems? But she tried to think positively—to always spread kindness.

"Of course, Will."

Stella smiled brightly.

They hugged, hiding their true feelings.

They chatted for a while, laughed, and shared stories. Eventually, they exchanged phone numbers.

***

After her meeting with Willy, Stella returned home with a step that felt lighter… yet more confusing.

That hug was too warm.

That gaze—too familiar.

And the memories… far too real.

She stepped into her apartment, which felt colder than usual.

Quiet.

Still.

No Sean. No Samantha.

Only herself, and the storm inside her head.

Stella stood in front of her bedroom mirror for a long while, staring at her own reflection.

The same face, but the soul behind it… no longer whole.

"Am I really okay?" she whispered softly.

She sat on the edge of her bed and opened her phone gallery.

She tapped on one photo—an old picture of her and Willy.

The smile in that photo looked genuinely happy… so different from the woman she was now.

Her eyes welled up with tears.

She had never truly forgotten him.

Only pretended to.

Her phone buzzed. A message came in.

Her heart leapt—maybe it was Sean… or Samantha.

But no.

It was from Willy.

“Thank you for letting me be there, even just as a friend, Stel. I know you're not okay right now, but I believe you're a strong woman. I'm here if you ever need a shoulder to cry on.” –Willy

Stella bit her lower lip.

The message was simple, but it felt like a second hug.

She didn’t reply.

She just held her phone close to her chest, holding back her tears.

That night, she tried to sleep, but h

er thoughts kept wandering to places they shouldn’t go..

She thought about Samuel.

She thought about Samantha.

She thought about Sean.

And finally… she thought about herself.

Everyone seemed to have someone to lean on—

except her.

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