Chapter 1
**The Price of Regret** Greenfield was a small town cradled by mountains, with towering trees reaching toward the sky, their leaves whispering secrets in the summer breeze. Isabella Sterling lay in bed, her silver hair matted and greasy against her sunken cheeks. Time had not been kind; what was once celebrated beauty had faded into a visage marked by wrinkles and a lingering odor of neglect. Years of being bedridden had taken their toll, and the vibrant young woman who had once married the only High School graduate in town, William Smith, was now a frail ghost of her former self. Their marriage had been fraught with years of grief, punctuated by the absence of children, leading her in-laws to heap accusations and insults upon her. It was on a muggy summer day, much like this one, that the last straw broke. Another beating meant for her had rendered her immobile, sentenced to this bed for decades. Hot tears traced paths down her lined face, her body too weak to fight back or even whisper a plea. If only she could go back and make a different choice, it would be to leave this tormenting existence behind. Absolutely, she would never allow this nightmare to unfold again. As her breath grew shallower, the rustle of leaves outside stilled, and with it, her last breath slipped away into the void… In the darkness, Isabella felt an unexpected lightness enveloping her. Following a distant voice, she found herself standing in front of a shimmering golden door. With fingers resembling the gnarled branches of a dying tree, she pushed the door open, and a vibrant light absorbed her whole being. Time lost meaning. When her senses returned, a familiar, venomous voice jolted her awake, “You lazy wench! I told you to come back and cook, not take a nap! I'll make you pay for this, you worthless baggage!” Eleanor Smith, her mother-in-law, raised a rolling pin as if she meant to strike. Instinctively, Isabella sidestepped the blow, disbelief coursing through her at the sight of the woman who had caused her untold misery and rendered her life a living hell for so long. Could it be that fate had granted her a second chance? “Bring it on. You think I’ll just stand here?” Isabella’s voice was steady, infused with a newfound determination that surprised even herself. “Let’s just get this over with and file for divorce!” William Smith knew exactly why there were no children — because he lacked the ability. Isabella had been the good wife, enduring the silence and shame, witnessing never-ending mockery from both family and town. She had remained patient, hoping for understanding, for something more than wallowing in torment. Even in her darkest hours, when she lay paralyzed, he had brought her meals only to disappear into the arms of Elizabeth Brown, the very woman from their village who had been the subject of many an idle gossip. She didn’t want him anymore. “I refuse to sign those papers!” William shouted, panic flooding his voice. “Isabella, we can work this out! Mom, I apologize for her! We’re still young! We can have kids one day, I swear!” But who was he kidding? Another wife would face the same fate. And who didn't know how beloved Isabella was? She had been the pride of their village, a beauty admired by all. No way would he give that up so easily. “What are you defending her for?” Eleanor snapped, eyes blazing. “She’s an orphan with no family! There are plenty of women here far better than her. Just go! You can’t throw her out and expect me to care.” Isabella reveled in the opposing fury of the old woman before her. After years spent silenced by fear, she took a step into her own power. “You know what? Let’s get this done. No more dragging things out. Let’s get divorced now, before it’s too late!” With resolve, Isabella packed her things. Dragging William along, they rushed to Stonebridge to file the paperwork, not allowing anyone to question their stormy haste. When they returned, the sun dipped below the horizon, cloaking everything in shadow. “Tomorrow, I’ll send someone to help repair the cottage,” William offered, his false concern evident as he stood at the foot of Willow Cottage. Isabella laughed, an unexpected joy bubbling inside her. “Save it. I’d rather handle my business alone.” She flicked her gaze away and stepped inside her new life, leaving him behind without a second glance. In that moment, the world felt different — shockingly different. She wasn’t merely reborn; she now had an intuition that swelled inside her, enabling her to foresee which investments would pay off and which would leave her broke. No longer bound by another’s fate, she vowed to thrive. Fate had smiled upon her, and even if she was alone, she was determined to make a life worth living.
Chapter 2
Not the Best Day Isabella Sterling looked around at the dust-covered chairs and worn-out table in Willow Cottage, letting out a weary sigh as she began to tidy up the space. The strains of her recent divorce had brought old wounds back to life, and she could feel the familiar ache creeping through her body. In retrospect, it wasn’t surprising that Margaret Smith looked down on her. After all, what did she have to offer? Since her parents’ passing, all she had left was this dilapidated old cottage. She had never been the strongest—constantly battling fatigue and sensitivity to the cold. She wasn't suited for farm work, which made the already hostile environment of the Smith family feel even harsher. Margaret, with her fierce opinions and keenly judgmental gaze, must have viewed Isabella’s struggle with infertility as a personal affront. “Cough, cough…” A sudden fit of coughing broke through the silence, sending Isabella’s stomach rumbling in protest. She forced herself to boil a pot of water, but soon realized that she needed to borrow some medicine from next door. Living in Maplewood East, her closest neighbor was a veteran named Edward Green. He had just moved back to the village after returning from Lancaster, and their interactions had been non-existent. Edward was a sturdy-looking man with rugged good looks, but he exuded an aura that kept people at a distance—something about him made even the local troublemakers wary. As the night crept on, Isabella felt a twinge of nerves. Would he even help her? She knocked lightly on his rusty iron gate and peered into his lit-up home. Moments later, she saw a shadow emerge against the twilight backdrop. Edward approached, his movements purposeful, and as he stepped into the moonlight, Isabella couldn’t help but notice how the soft glow complemented his features. “Oh, you’re Isabella Sterling,” he said, his voice deep and magnetic, pulling her out of her thoughts. “You’re back.” Isabella nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Um, do you have any anti-inflammatory medicine? I think I hurt my back.” Her pale complexion and the soft sounds of her hungry stomach painted a picture of vulnerability that was hard to ignore. Edward didn’t reply immediately. His dark eyes were intense, holding an unfathomable depth that set Isabella’s nerves on edge. Maplewood East was a sprawling but tight-knit community. Surrounded by folks who knew everything about each other, the sight of Isabella—once the blossoming bride of William Smith’s youngest son, now back in the village—had to spark curiosity. Whispered questions probably filled the air: had there been a fight? Not realizing they were both stuck in their own thoughts, Isabella felt her courage falter. “If you don’t have any, that’s fine—” “Wait,” he interrupted, turning back towards his house. “I have some. Just a sec.” He quickly returned with a plastic bag and handed it to her. “Here. Take twice a day, more if you need it. These were issued during my time in the service. They should help.” Surprised and grateful, Isabella accepted the bag, her heart swelling with appreciation. “Thank you! I’ll make sure to return it once I’m better. You’ve given me more than enough.” Edward offered a small, almost shy grin, making his already striking features even more attractive. “It’s nothing. Really, I’m a bit of a hermit, so I have more than I need.” The self-deprecating humor hung heavy in the air, but it stung Isabella deeply. She was acutely aware of the village gossip regarding Edward since he returned; rumors fueled by jealousy had taken root. Given that, maybe he saw himself as another outcast in this town of judgmental whispers. Before she could explain, he was already stepping away. Isabella let out an exasperated sigh and made her way back home, flashlight and medicine in hand. She applied the ointment, and within minutes, the searing pain eased significantly. Still, the gnawing hunger would be harder to remedy. A little hot water barely satisfied her cravings, and she knew she’d have to figure out how to acquire some flour and rice in the morning. As for the Smith family, the likelihood of them sharing what little resources she had once garnered from her labor was bleak. She would have to enlist help from others, one way or another. The next morning, barely past dawn, Isabella found herself at the Greenfield Militia office. She explained her situation and borrowed a bit of flour and rice to tide her over for now. As she left, she overheard murmurs between the office secretary and his wife. “Poor Isabella, such a beautiful girl but can’t seem to have a baby,” the wife said, shaking her head with pity. “Yeah, it’s a shame. She looks so frail; who knows how she’ll manage from here?” the secretary added. Isabella shook her head, pretending she hadn’t heard a thing, and headed back home.
Chapter 3
**Stepping Out** Inevitably, Isabella Sterling became the hot topic of gossip at work today. The whispers stung as she listened, right as she was about to defend herself. A coworker tugged at her sleeve, and she swallowed her retort. “Just let it go. The more you engage, the worse it gets…” Making it through the morning was a small victory, but her back was starting to remind her it was still there, giving its usual protest. By some sheer will, she made it home, only to spot Edward Green not far away, hoisting a hoe over his shoulder. He noticed her stumbling approach. Her face glistened with sweat, her green shirt nearly drenched, and the midday sun had turned her cheeks a bright shade of red, making her look utterly pitiful. “What’s wrong?” Edward Green’s voice, typically reserved, showed genuine concern for the first time as he addressed a villager. Isabella paused, surprised. She finally reached him and said, “I hurt my back; it’s giving me trouble.” He scrutinized her face. “I made some cornbread this morning. I can’t eat it all by myself, so I brought you a few. With you in this state, you shouldn’t be cooking for yourself.” Isabella, too exhausted to argue, gratefully accepted despite her surprise. Minutes later, Edward returned with a plate of cornbread and a small dish of eggs. “I shouldn’t accept this,” she said, pushing herself up from her chair. In this village, a meal like this was a big deal. “Homegrown chicken. Just eat,” he replied, setting the food on the table. His face was expressionless, yet the warmth of the meal was a balm for Isabella’s bruised spirit after a morning of frustration. She thanked him repeatedly, even insisting on walking him to the door. “In a few days, I’ll have some work in town to help make some money. Things will get better, I promise…” As the two chatted, a small group of people strolled by in the distance. One of them, wearing a blue linen shirt, had sharp features that stood out in the crowd. He walked with a few burly men who only emphasized his scholarly appearance. “Hey, William! Isn’t that your ex-wife with Edward Green?” one of his friends called out. “What ex-wife? Didn’t he divorce her yesterday?” another chimed in. “Just one night, and look at her. Wow,” one friend laughed, the sound laced with mockery. “I say she’s better off. Look at her—she doesn't seem strong. That Elizabeth who came by with meals for William a few days ago? Now *she’s* worth noticing,” another remarked with a chuckle. “William, do you have feelings for Elizabeth, or what? She’s been serving you meals like she’s auditioning for the role,” one guy added playfully. William Smith's expression darkened. So that's why Isabella agreed to the divorce so easily. She was waiting for the right moment to move on. Edward Green’s tough build made it clear he was no pushover—likely better in every aspect William could think of. The thought knotted his stomach. They didn’t understand why he and Isabella parted, but he did. To abandon him for someone else was absurd. In the afternoon, Isabella’s back pain forced her to stay home rather than work in the fields. Her mind drifted to a shop in town that sold embroidered goods, sparking an idea that had been brewing for a while. She rummaged through her closet, finally fishing out a small box from the very back. Inside, she found a beautifully embroidered handkerchief. Her mother, a talented seamstress from Suzhou, had passed down the skill. As a child, Isabella watched her mother bring in extra income through her stitching, but then war broke out, and the buyers faded away. Eventually, her mother stopped stitching altogether. But now, it seemed there was a renewed interest in handmade crafts. Isabella felt a wave of determination. This was her chance; she could turn this talent into something profitable. Staring at the vibrant hydrangeas stitched onto the cotton fabric, she felt a twinge of something amiss, as if it needed a final touch. After a moment of inspiration, she grabbed her needle and thread, adding delicate stitches to create a stunning blue butterfly that danced across the fabric. Handkerchiefs like hers had recently become trendy, but many were poorly made, thus fetching higher prices for quality items. Isabella knew she could sell her work in any shop. Besides embroidery, painting floral designs could also rake in a good profit. If she could just make some money quickly, she could divert her plans for the future and steadily improve her situation. As these thoughts swirled in her mind, a smile crept onto her face. Freed from her cruel mother-in-law's torment and her brother-in-law and sister-in-law’s harsh words, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Once the sun passed the harshest part of the day, Isabella applied some ointment to ease her pain. Feeling a bit better, she decided to make the trek to town. The journey from Greenfield was a stretch of about ten miles—not too far, but daunting nonetheless for Isabella. After what felt like an eternity, she heard the familiar roar of an engine behind her. Turning around, she caught Elizabeth Brown's cryptic gaze as she sped by in a truck.
Chapter 4
**Uncharted Territory** “Hey, isn’t that Isabella?” Matt called out, leaning out of the driver’s side window of his truck, which was piled high with hay. “Where are you headed? Need a lift?” Isabella Sterling hesitated for a moment, her eyes squinting against the sun as she approached. “Just heading into town to take care of some stuff.” “Perfect! We’re headed there too. Jump in!” Matt replied with an inviting grin. Isabella hopped onto the back of the truck, sliding in next to his sister, Elizabeth Brown. The warm hay crunched beneath her as she settled in. “Isabella, I’m so glad you’re here! I could use a companion while we’re in town. My brother doesn’t have much taste. A woman’s touch is what he needs!” Elizabeth said playfully, squeezing Isabella’s hand. Isabella forced a smile and gently withdrew her hand. “Oh, I’m not really in the mood for shopping today,” she said, coming up with a polite excuse. The village was abuzz with rumors about Elizabeth’s crush on William Smith. He played it cool, neither pursuing her nor outright rejecting her, maintaining a tension that only made things more complicated. Feeling Elizabeth’s warmth radiate beside her, Isabella couldn’t shake an unsettling feeling that washed over her—a blend of curiosity and concern. They hardly knew each other, their interactions limited to a few words, yet here Elizabeth was, wrapping her affection around Isabella like a blanket. The woman had a knack for theatrics; she would do well on stage. “So you really divorced William? Just like that, huh? Because of the kids?” Elizabeth pried, her eyes darting. “Yeah,” Isabella replied flatly, her voice steady. “Have you seen a doctor? If you want, I know an old physician who’s supposed to be amazing at this type of thing. I could introduce you.” “Thanks, but it’s alright. I know what’s going on,” Isabella said, her tone firm yet distant. Elizabeth, undeterred, opened her mouth to pursue the topic further when Matt suddenly interjected, “Okay, that’s enough! She’s been through a lot already. Let’s drop it.” With Matt’s straightforwardness contrasting Elizabeth’s finesse, the dynamics between the siblings felt strikingly odd. How could two people from the same family be so different? Elizabeth made a face, annoyed at her brother for coming to Isabella’s defense. In the village, men had a notorious reputation for drooling over Isabella’s beauty, and that included her own brother. Not that anyone could tell, but she knew. If she pushed further now, it would just lead to another lecture when they got home. Best to keep quiet. Soon, they rolled into town, and Isabella hopped off the truck near the alley lined with clothing stores. Matt and Elizabeth moved off to attend to their business with the hay. Isabella clutched a few embroidered pieces and began wandering. Contrary to her expectations, few shops were interested in handcrafted items. Most were filled with mass-produced clothes—no one paying attention to the art of true craftsmanship here. After searching for what felt like an eternity, Isabella finally found hope in a store called “Greenway Clothiers.” It stood out as the largest shop in the area, showcasing the latest styles in clothing, shoes, and accessories. Next door was the tailor’s shop, all under the same roof. As she entered, a sales clerk approached her, “Hi there! What can I help you with today?” Isabella fumbled a bit, then showcased her handcrafted piece. “What do you think this could fetch?” The clerk blinked, momentarily flummoxed, “Um, sorry, ma'am, but we only sell clothes here. You might want to check elsewhere.” Disappointed but unwilling to give up, Isabella turned to leave when the shop owner strolled over. “Hold on, let me take a look at that.” Isabella quickly offered up her embroidered handkerchief. “I can create other designs too—flowers, birds, you name it.” The owner examined the piece, eyes widening with appreciation. “Wow, the stitching is stunning! Did you do this yourself?” Isabella nodded, “Yes, I did. How much do you think it could sell for?” The owner scrutinized her for a moment, taking in the sight of the tired yet captivating young woman standing before him. Her clear, bright eyes sparkled with the faintest hint of a smile, painting a picture of resilience that belied her youth. It was hard to believe someone so young could possess such skill. “Your talent’s worth a fair price anywhere, but it depends on finding the right buyer. If you’re interested, I could use someone to help us out around the shop. We need some fresh designs. If things pan out, I can offer you a cut along with a wage. What do you say?” Isabella considered for a moment before brightening, “Sure, that sounds great!” With a smile, she finalized the sale of her handkerchief for a decent price, pocketing the money as she stepped out. On her way back to the village, she decided to treat herself and strolled into a nearby candy shop, unable to resist the temptation. Ever since her parents had passed away, she hadn’t tasted sugar again. As she savored the sweetness melting on her tongue, she felt a sense of fleeting happiness—a reminder of the joys she used to take for granted.
Chapter 5
**Whispers** The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Isabella Sterling entered the village. As she made her way through the familiar streets, she spotted a group of villagers lounging under the sprawling branches of an ancient oak tree. Even without turning her head, she recognized the unmistakable voice of William Smith among them. Back in the day, William had thrived on these casual gatherings, where he and the other young men would engage in aimless banter. But now, after the divorce, Isabella couldn’t shake the feeling that he was just like those petty gossipmongers, relishing in other people's misfortune. A wave of distaste washed over her, prompting Isabella to take a longer route home, opting for the narrow path that snaked away from the crowd. Behind her, William's gaze followed her with a mix of intrigue and lingering ownership, a glance that sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. To him, she had always been the sweetest prize, and the thought stung. How could he think he still had a claim on her? In that moment, Edward Green’s face flashed through her mind, tightening her grip on the straps of her bag. A thick layer of unease settled in her chest. Moments later, William dropped his cards with a frustrated motion, abruptly declaring, “I’m done. Play without me!” The other men protested, their voices rising in confusion and annoyance, but William brushed past them, his mood darkening as he stormed towards home. That evening, the dining table at Smithstead felt heavy with the presence of empty beer bottles—more than a dozen, discarded like his dignity. “It’s your fault! Why did you have to push me to divorce Isabella? Now look at her…” he muttered, his words slurring slightly as he stole brief glances toward Willow Cottage. As he trudged down the road to her house, memories flashed back—of times he had taken this route in pursuit of her heart. But none of those memories could compare to the unbearable weight of shame he felt tonight. He stood in front of her door and thumped his fist against it. “Isabella! Open up, it’s me!” He waited, the silence stretching on until the door creaked open to reveal her silhouette, framed by dim light inside. “What are you doing here?” William's eyes roamed over her, scanning her like it was their first encounter again. She looked like a vision, even more radiant than he remembered. But the resentfulness lurking behind her casual demeanor gnawed at him. “I should’ve known you’d be with someone else,” he said, laced with bitterness. “Is it that perfect Edward Green? Just him?” Her brows knitted in confusion. “This cup?” she gestured to the pristine enamel mug sitting on the table. “I bought that with my own money. It’s got nothing to do with anyone else, so don’t get any ideas.” He felt the anger bubbling in his stomach. Ever since their breakup, it was as if nothing had changed. “Oh really?” He suddenly seized her wrist, leaning in closer, his breath trailing the smell of stale alcohol. “How far have you two gone? Are you still pretending you’re not with him?” The acrid scent of liquor mingled with heavy hostility, and Isabella fought the urge to gag. “William, let go of me! I’m not with Edward! You’re hurting me!” The warmth of her vibrant eyes, once filled with submission, now pierced him with defiance. “So, you’re saying I’m wrong? How do you explain your little rendezvous with him?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “You’ve been waiting for this moment, haven’t you? What do you mean 'like everyone else'? What’s wrong with me, huh?” Isabella stared at William, incredulous. “You know exactly what you did with Elizabeth Brown. We’re divorced. Just leave, or I'll call someone!” “Call someone?” The realization hit him hard, and momentarily he released his grip on her wrist, but then an insane rage took hold. He lunged forward, grabbing the cup from the table and smashing it on the floor, the sharp sound resonating in the still night. “Go ahead, call for help! Call Edward! I dare you!” Just as he advanced toward her, a shadow cut through the doorway—someone had come to her aid, grabbing William and throwing him outside as if he were nothing more than a rag doll. Isabella stood there, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her vision blurred as Edward Green stepped in, fierce and determined. “Get away from her,” he commanded, eyes locked on William. “Edward?” Isabella’s voice trembled as she reached out, desperate for reassurance—a stark contrast to the chaotic scene that had just unraveled.
There are limited chapters to put here, click the button below to continue reading "Through Shadows and Second Chances"
(It will automatically jump to the book when you open the app).
❤️Click to read more exciting content❤️