let us share the same pain

Lavish vehicles made their way toward the grand hotel, where the much-anticipated wedding ceremony was set to take place. Guests from all over the country arrived, excitement buzzing in the air. Sarah, the bride, was the center of attention. With the delicate face of a twelve-year-old and the striking figure of a Caribbean model, she moved gracefully, her hips swaying with every step. She captivated the men and stirred envy among the women. Having meticulously prepared, she stood ready, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Meanwhile, entertainment kept the guests engaged—dances, games, and lively chatter filling the venue. But as seconds turned into minutes and minutes stretched into hours, the groom was nowhere to be seen. Murmurs spread through the crowd. Sarah’s mother leaned in, her voice low and concerned. "Where is the groom?" Sarah’s heart pounded as she dialed his number, but the call didn’t go through. Again and again, she tried, but it was in vain. Panic and anger twisted inside her. Where was he? Hours passed, and her father approached, worry evident on his face. "What’s happening?" Sarah stood frozen, unable to respond. Guests, growing impatient, started to leave one by one. "Dad, I don’t know what to say," she finally whispered, her voice trembling. "Let’s wait a little longer." Naomi, a longtime rival, smirked as she walked up to Sarah. "You thought marrying into a rich family would be easy?" she taunted. "Look at you now—publicly humiliated. No one will remember this wedding except for the disgrace it brought you." Sarah ignored her, clinging to the last shred of hope. Her father ordered lunch to be served, but the celebratory atmosphere had long disappeared. As guests departed, Sarah felt her world crumble. Tears welled in her eyes, her makeup smudging as sweat trickled down her face. She bowed her head, utterly humiliated. Her mother hugged her gently. "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everything will be fine." "Why? Why me?" Sarah choked out. Then— Bang! Sarah collapsed onto the cold tiles. Gasps filled the hall as her father rushed to her side, shaking her gently. "Sarah! Wake up!" Sharon, her best friend, knelt beside her. "Sarah, talk to me!" But Sarah said nothing. Her eyes were red and hollow. Sweat drenched her trembling body. "Relax, my friend," Sharon whispered. "It’s going to be okay." But Sarah’s mind was elsewhere—trapped in confusion, anger, and heartbreak. Franklin. Where was he? Summoning the last of her strength, she stumbled away from the hall, stepping into the hotel’s luxurious elevator. As the doors slid shut, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the marble floor, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Ding! The elevator reached the ground floor. Sarah remained still, her long hair disheveled, her eyes swollen from crying. "Where are you going?" A cold, detached voice cut through the air. Sarah’s head snapped up. For a moment, her breath hitched—was it Franklin? But no. "I’m not Franklin," the man said. "I’m your brother." Bruno, her elder brother, stepped forward, supporting her as she struggled to stand. Their family had already gathered, worry etched on their faces. "Take Sarah home," their mother said, her tears falling. "She’s been humiliated. How will she recover from this?" A car engine roared in the distance. But it was too late. The Aftermath The next day, Sarah locked herself in her room. She refused to speak, refused to eat. She didn’t want to see anyone. Her mother pleaded with her daily. "Sarah, please, open the door," she begged. But silence was her only response. Three days passed. Sarah hadn’t eaten or left her room. Her face had grown pale, her eyes swollen from endless crying. Sharon tried to reach her. "Sarah, please, don’t do this to yourself." Still, nothing. Her father, a respected manager at a major company, came up with a plan. Bang! A loud crash rang through the house. "Mom! Mom, wake up!" Bruno’s desperate voice echoed. Sarah’s father stood near the door, watching carefully. Slowly, the lock turned. The door creaked open, and Sarah stepped out, her frail body barely holding her up. "Where’s my mother?" she asked in a panic. "Don’t worry," her father said, wiping his forehead. "It was just a plan to get you out." Meanwhile… In the outskirts of New Delhi, Franklin lounged in luxury, sipping margaritas under the warm summer breeze. Laughter surrounded him, his betrayal long forgotten in his mind. His brother sat beside him, both enjoying their wealth and privilege. Inside a lavish chamber, Franklin leaned back, legs propped on the table. "Franklin!" A sweet, familiar voice rang out. He turned, eyes lighting up. "Jemimah! What a surprise!" They embraced, their laughter filling the room. Jemimah had brought her best friend, Natasha, to keep Franklin’s brother company. Back in the city, Sharon convinced Sarah to leave the country—to escape, to heal. "I know a perfect place in New Delhi," she said. Sarah, too exhausted to argue, agreed. The two landed in New Delhi and checked into a luxurious resort, determined to forget the past. "I need a swim," Sarah murmured. "Let’s do it," Sharon agreed, knowing that any distraction would help. They slipped into their swimsuits and waded into the pool, Sarah momentarily feeling a sense of peace. Unbeknownst to her, across the poolside bar, Franklin sat with his brother. At a distance, he spotted a beautiful woman swimming. He nudged his brother. "Look at that," he said. His brother turned—and froze. "What?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Is that… Sarah?" Franklin’s smirk vanished. A chill ran down his spine. Fate had brought them together once more