Tom’s Pov The sun was setting over the quiet streets of Oakwood, casting long shadows across the worn pavement as I trudged wearily towards the modest house that had been my refuge for as long as I could remember. As I approached the front door, I could already hear the familiar sounds of raised voices and bitter arguments emanating from within, signaling another evening filled with tension and strife.Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped inside, bracing myself for the onslaught of criticism and condemnation that awaited me. My parents were seated at the kitchen table, their expressions pinched and disapproving as they eyed me with thinly veiled disdain."Look who decided to grace us with his presence," my father sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "I hope you're not expecting a warm welcome, because you certainly won't find one here."I clenched my jaw tightly, biting back the retort that threatened to spill from my lips. I had grown accustomed to their bar

Tom’s PovAs the days turned into weeks, the cracks in my facade began to widen, revealing the raw insecurity that lay beneath the surface. Each morning, I forced myself out of bed and trudged to work, my steps heavy with the weight of impending failure. My coworkers' disdain only grew more pronounced, their whispers and snickers following me wherever I went. Mr. Thompson's criticisms became increasingly harsh, his once-promising words now ringing hollow in my ears .And then, just as I had feared, it happened. On the seventh day of my employment, Mr. Thompson called me into his office and delivered the news I had been dreading."I'm sorry, Tom," he said with a sympathetic smile that did little to soften the blow. "But we're going to have to let you go. It's just not working out." I nodded numbly, the sting of rejection burning like a white-hot poker in my chest. As I gathered my things and made my way out of the office, I couldn't help but feel like a failure, like I had let everyone

Tom’s Pov As I left the office one evening, my mind consumed by thoughts of Vincent's relentless bullying, I barely noticed the young woman rushing towards me until she stumbled and nearly fell right into my path.Instinctively, I reached out to steady her, my hand closing around hers in a firm grip as I prevented her from tumbling to the ground. Our eyes met in that moment, and for a brief instant, time seemed to stand still as we gazed at each other in silent recognition."Thank you," she said, her voice soft and melodious as she regained her balance. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there to catch me."I smiled, my heart fluttering at the warmth in her eyes. "It was nothing," I replied, my voice tinged with bashfulness. "Just glad I could help."She returned my smile, her lips curving into a gentle curve that sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm Sarah, by the way," she said, extending her hand in a friendly gesture."Tom," I replied, taking her hand in mine an

Tom’s Pov Sarah's announcement of our relationship at the office was as dramatic as I feared it would be. She did it during a company meeting, her voice clear and unwavering.“I want everyone to know that Tom and I are now officially together,” she said, smiling at me. “We’ve decided to give our relationship a real chance.”A murmur ran through the room. Some people looked genuinely happy for us, while others seemed shocked or intrigued. I caught Vincent’s eyes across the table, and they were burning with rage. After the meeting, I was bombarded with congratulations and questions. But the one encounter I was dreading came swiftly. Vincent cornered me in the hallway, his face a mask of barely controlled fury.“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Tom?” he hissed, grabbing my arm. “You think you can just waltz in here, take the project, and now take Sarah too?” I pulled my arm free, standing my ground. “Vincent, Sarah and I care about each other. This isn’t about you.” He laughed,

Tom’s PovThe early days of our marriage were filled with happiness, but the shadow of my unemployment loomed large. Sarah and I did our best to remain positive, but I knew the situation was taking a toll on both of us. Sarah approached me one evening with a thoughtful expression."Tom," she began gently, "I’ve been thinking. Maybe I can talk to my father about giving you a job in his company."I sighed, appreciating her effort but wary of the potential backlash. "I don’t know, Sarah. Your parents… they’re already not thrilled about me. If I get a job through your father, it might make things worse."Sarah frowned, her concern, evident. "But you need a job, Tom. This situation isn’t sustainable." she said.A few days later, Sarah broached the topic with her parents during dinner. Her mother, Mrs. Henderson, reacted predictably."Absolutely not," Mrs. Henderson said sharply, putting down her fork. "Tom needs to find a job on his own. He should be able to provide for you without relyi