Chapter 2 Sergey

Sergey Novikov slammed the front door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the cold, empty house. He stormed down the steps and headed straight for his car, not bothering to glance back at the house where Helena was left alone and sick. As he drove away, the anger and frustration bubbled within him, each passing mile only amplifying his sense of guilt.

He drove through the bustling streets of New York City, the vibrant lights and constant motion a stark contrast to the darkness enveloping his mind. After a while, he pulled into a gas station on the outskirts of town, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead as he parked beside a pump. He sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white.

The reality of Helena's condition had hit him harder than he had anticipated. Every time he saw her, she seemed to lose more weight, her skin growing paler and her eyes more hollow. He couldn't deny it any longer-she was dying. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

He recalled the conversation he had had with her doctor just a few days ago. After much internal struggle, he had finally decided to call the clinic and get a clearer understanding of Helena's condition. The doctor's words had been a punch to the gut. The cancer had spread to several parts of her body, her organs were slowly shutting down, and there was nothing more that could be done. Sergey had sat in stunned silence as the doctor explained the dire situation, feeling a mix of anger, helplessness, and profound sadness.

It reminded him of his childhood in the orphanage, watching his mother waste away from the same illness. He remembered the pain, the fear, and the overwhelming sense of loss. It was a memory he had tried to bury deep within himself, but now it was all coming back, haunting him with a vengeance.

Sergey leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. He felt like a monster. How could he have been so cold, so indifferent to Helena's suffering? She had never asked for this life, and yet she had been dealt the cruelest of fates. And what had he done? He had ignored her, pushed her away, and sought solace in the arms of another woman.

For a moment, he considered driving back. He could apologize, try to make amends, and maybe even sit with Helena to watch a movie, letting her believe that they were more than just hostages of a bad deal. He wanted to give her some semblance of peace in her final days, to show her that he wasn't entirely heartless.

But then his phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw Gabrielle's name flashing. His heart sank. Gabrielle, the woman who had become his escape from the harsh realities of his life, was calling. He hesitated, his mind torn between the desire to be there for Helena and the pull of his affair with Gabrielle.

With a deep sigh, Sergey answered the call. "Hey," he said, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

"Sergey, where are you?" Gabrielle's voice was laced with impatience and annoyance. "I've been waiting for you. You promised you'd be here."

"I know, I know," he replied, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just... I needed to clear my head for a bit."

"Clear your head?" Gabrielle's tone was sharp. "Sergey, I need you here. I can't do this alone. The baby needs you."

Sergey felt a pang of guilt. Gabrielle was carrying his child, a child he had created in the midst of all this chaos. He had responsibilities to her, to their unborn child. But the image of Helena, frail and alone, kept flashing in his mind.

"Look, I'm coming," he said finally, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders.

"Good," Gabrielle said, her voice softening slightly. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," he lied, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions.

As he hung up the phone, Sergey sat there for a moment longer, staring at the gas pump. He wanted to turn back, to drive home and be with Helena, but the pull of his obligations to Gabrielle was too strong. With a heavy sigh, he started the car and drove off, leaving behind the flickering lights of the gas station and the haunting memories of his past.

Helena's face lingered in his mind as he drove, her eyes filled with pain and sorrow. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was making the wrong choice, that he was abandoning her when she needed him the most.

___

Sergey sat at a table in the upscale restaurant, the soft glow of the ambient lighting doing little to ease the turmoil inside him. He was supposed to be at the charity ball for the orphanage, a place that held significance for him and Helena. But instead, he found himself here, deep in conversation with his lawyer, Daniel Whitaker.

"You need to understand, Sergey," Daniel said, his voice low and urgent. "The press is going to have a field day once they find out about Gabrielle and the baby. Your reputation is on the line. The shareholders are loyal to your late father-in-law, and they all respect Helena. This news will be a disaster."

Sergey nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. "I know, Daniel. That's why I'm buying the property in the Hamptons. It's secluded and perfect for Gabrielle and the baby. We can spend time there away from prying eyes, and it's only two hours from the Upper East Side."

Daniel sighed, frustration evident. "You can't let your guard down, Sergey. One misstep and everything you've worked for could come crashing down."

Sergey barely heard him. His thoughts were consumed with the new property, imagining it as a sanctuary for his new family. The orphanage ball hadn't crossed his mind at all. He was focused on the future, on a life with Gabrielle and their unborn child.

Just then, Sergey's phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and saw a call from Harris, one of the security personnel assigned to Gabrielle.

"Excuse me, Daniel," Sergey said, picking up the phone. "I need to take this."

Stepping away from the table, he answered, "Yes, what is it?"

"Mr. Novikov, this is Harris. There's been an incident," Harris said, his voice tense.

Sergey's heart skipped a beat. "Is Gabrielle okay? What happened?"

"She's at Cornell Hospital," Harris replied. "You need to get here quickly."

Panic surged through Sergey. He didn't wait for further details. Hanging up, he turned to Daniel. "Something happened to Gabrielle. I need to get to Cornell Hospital now."

Daniel's expression shifted to one of concern. "We need to go. I'll drive."

The drive to Cornell Hospital was a blur, Sergey's mind a chaotic whirl of worry and fear. He hadn't been there for Helena, hadn't cared enough to stay by her side in her final days. Now, it seemed, his negligence had caught up with him in the worst possible way.

As they arrived at the hospital, Sergey was met by a flurry of activity. Doctors and nurses moved briskly through the halls, and the sterile scent of antiseptics filled the air. He rushed to the front desk, his voice shaking. "I'm Sergey Novikov. I was told my ... my relative was brought in."

The nurse at the desk looked up, her face calm and composed. "Yes, Mr. Novikov. Follow me, please."

Sergey followed her down a long, sterile corridor. His heart pounded in his chest, each step amplifying his fear. They reached a room at the end of the hallway, and the nurse pushed open the door.

Sergey stepped inside, expecting to see Gabrielle. Instead, his eyes fell on a sight that stopped him in his tracks. A nurse was standing by a hospital bed, carefully placing a pair of shoes and a handbag into a large plastic bag. On the bed lay Helena, her face pale and lifeless.

"No," Sergey whispered, his voice barely audible. "No, this can't be happening."

The nurse looked up, her expression somber. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Novikov. Mrs. Morrison didn't survive the accident."

Sergey felt his legs give way, and he collapsed into a chair. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing. It was Helena, not Gabrielle, who had been hurt. Helena, who had been at the charity ball, fulfilling her commitments despite her sickness. And now, she was dead.

A wave of guilt and sorrow crashed over him, drowning him in regret. He had failed her in every possible way. He hadn't been there when she needed him, hadn't shown her the kindness and love she deserved. Instead, he had been consumed with his plans for a future with Gabrielle, a future that now seemed meaningless.

He looked at Helena's lifeless body, the reality of her death settling heavily on his shoulders. He had wanted to be free of the burdens of his past, to create a new life, but now he realised the cost. Helena's death was a consequence of his neglect, a stark reminder of the humanity he had lost in his pursuit of selfish desires.

As he sat there, surrounded by the sterile white walls of the hospital, Sergey felt the weight of his choices pressing down on him, the gravity of his actions pulling him into a darkness from which he might never escape. He had lost Helena, the woman who had stood by him despite everything, and the guilt of that loss would haunt him forever.