Chapter 13: Crossed Storms
The early morning light slipped through the cracks of Sarai's bedroom blinds, warning her that another relentless day had begun. She reluctantly pulled back the blanket, placed her bare feet on the cold floor, and, before getting up, reached for her phone on the nightstand. Two missed calls from David Donovan, a text message with a worried emoji, and a non-negotiable reminder: that very afternoon she had to go to her lawyer’s office to review the latest version of the prenuptial contract.
She dressed slowly, aware that every morning she repeated the same anxious choreography: her mother’s routine, the inevitable clash with her brother, and the defensive plan against the Donovan family. Even though David had promised her unconditional support, Lorena’s harsh words still echoed in her mind: “If you want to be part of this family, you’ll have to play by our rules.”
The voice of urgency
She descended the stairs, hand on the banister. In the kitchen, her mother struggled to eat breakfast; seeing her, Sarai felt a stab of guilt.
—Hi, sweetheart —her mother said, forcing her voice—. Did you get some rest?
—Enough —Sarai replied, kissing her mother’s forehead—. How are you feeling today?
The woman inhaled with difficulty but forced a smile.
—Wishing I could get out of this bed. But everything’s the same. The doctor prescribed more tests next week.
Sarai nodded, holding back tears. The cost of those tests was one of the reasons she had agreed to marry David. That ethical dilemma gnawed at her constantly.
Before she could say anything else, the familiar creak of the sofa announced Erick’s presence, her younger brother, who appeared with a scowl and a cup of coffee in hand. The faint smell of liquor mixed with sweat told Sarai he’d spent another night out with the wrong crowd.
—You going to work today? —he asked, flashing a crooked grin—. I was hoping you’d let me use the car, but I see you took it.
—Mom needs the car to get to the hospital —Sarai replied firmly, without raising her voice—. I’m not on shift at the restaurant today; I have an appointment with the lawyer.
Erick let out a dry laugh.
—Lawyer? Are you signing off on the dress and cake already? Didn’t know you were that committed.
Sarai pressed her lips together. She wasn’t in the mood to argue.
—Don’t joke about things you don’t understand. —She turned to her mother—. Mom, you need to rest. I’ll buy breakfast and head out.
Her mother tried to say something, but a cough cut her off. Sarai left, quietly shutting the kitchen door behind her and placing a hand on her chest, pained that she hadn’t defended her more fiercely.
The office and final clauses
The Donovan & Associates office tower rose imposingly in the financial district. As she entered, Sarai felt that familiar wave of insecurity: the stream of polished executives, the gleaming glass, the murmur of million-dollar deals. She walked to the reception desk and waited for the assistant to announce her.
When she was finally let in, lawyer Ruiz was waiting with several folders in hand. The office was spacious, with a large window offering a sweeping view of the city.
—Good morning, Miss Ramírez —he said, adjusting his glasses—. Here is the latest version of the contract. We’ve included the clause for deadline extensions due to medical reasons —he pointed to a paragraph— and the confidentiality clause regarding the financial support for your mother’s treatment.
Sarai took the document and read it carefully. The legal language was cold, sterile, but between the lines beat the raw truth of a marriage without love, shaped by financial and legal terms.
—I want to be sure I understand everything —she murmured—. I don’t want any surprises.
The lawyer looked at her respectfully.
—It’s all very clear. Signing this guarantees your mother’s treatment and protects your rights if you choose not to continue after the first year. David has been very generous with the conditions.
She nodded, feeling that each line chipped away a little more of her freedom —but also carved out a glimmer of hope.
The call that shakes her
As she exited the office, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Lorena Donovan. Sarai’s heart skipped a beat, and the contract news faded to the background.
—Hello? —she answered, her voice trembling—. Mrs. Donovan?
The voice on the other end was colder than usual.
—Sarai, this is dragging on too long. David called me furious because you haven’t given us a final wedding date. What’s going on?
Sarai took a deep breath and forced herself to answer calmly.
—I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ve been busy with my mother. Her illness is more serious than I expected.
—That’s your problem, not mine —Lorena snapped—. David needs clarity. We can’t stay in limbo. Either you set a date… or we cancel everything.
A crushing pressure built in Sarai’s chest. She knew this call was more than a warning —it was an ultimatum.
—I understand —she whispered—. I’ll speak with David today and confirm the date.
—You better —Lorena concluded, and the line went dead.
A decision under pressure
Sarai turned off the phone and rested her forehead against the concrete wall. The whole world felt like it was caving in.
How can I choose a date when I’m not even sure I want this?
How can I commit to a name that looks down on where I come from?
She took a deep breath, drawing on the strength her mother had taught her. She had to speak with David. She couldn’t delay it any longer. She got into the office car and tried calling her sister, but the line wouldn’t connect. Erick didn’t answer either.
At last, she dialed David’s number, praying for no more pressure. He answered on the second ring.
—Sarai… —his voice sounded concerned—. Are you okay?
—David… —she replied, her voice trembling—. Your mother… gave me an ultimatum. She wants a date or she’ll cancel everything.
—I know —he said gravely—. She called me a while ago.
Sarai closed her eyes.
—I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know if I’m ready.
David stayed silent for a moment. Then he spoke softly:
—Listen, I know this is all very fast. But I need to marry you. This… is more than just a contract. Because even if you haven’t realized it yet, this is already real to me. I… want you by my side.
David’s words, spoken with that blend of seriousness and tenderness, made Sarai’s chest tighten.
—Give me two more days —she asked—. Just two more days.
—We’ll talk to my mother —he agreed—. I promise there’ll be no more pressure. I just want you to be happy.
Sarai nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. That promise was an unexpected balm.
—Thank you, David.
She hung up and rested her head against the steering wheel, letting the sound of the rain hitting the windshield carry her away. Two days. That was her deadline, her chance to clear her mind, to decide if this union was a worthy sacrifice or a mistake she needed to escape before binding herself forever.
As the wipers traced their repetitive arc, Sarai realized that the real storms don’t rage outside —they roar within, where will and heart wage battles that define your fate.