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The Old Me 4

The Old Me 4

 

Chapter 4 

Over the next week, Abigail spent her nights riding her motorcycle along Summit Loop, her days shopping for clothes with her best friend Hannah, and gradually taking back control of the company her mother had left her. 

During that week, Frederick and Timothy didn’t come home once, nor did they send her a single message. Without Abigail around, they seemed perfectly happy. 

Every evening, she could still see photos and videos of Timothy posted in the family chat. 

“Today, Dad took me to Universal Studios. It was so fun!” 

“Dad said good things should be shared with the ones you love most, so I brought Grandma some delicious cheese yogurt.” 

Timothy even posted the shadows of the three of them standing together on Instagram. 

One of the relatives commented below, “Timothy, did you go with your parents? The three of you are such a happy family.” 

Timothy replied, “Not with Mom, though.” 

Watching his countless feeds, Abigail quietly removed him from her Close Friends list, unpinned him from her chats, and turned off post and story notifications for him. 

In the past, she had been the first to like or comment on every post, replied instantly, never let conversations fall to the bottom, and sent the earliest good mornings and the latest good nights. 

That had been her way of showing Timothy she loved him. 

Now, she was slowly taking it back. 

Just as she finished, Frederick sent a message. 

For the first time in eight years, during a cold war, he reached out to her proactively. “When you go to the Kemp’s residence tomorrow, please bring Timothy’s favorite toy.” 

He was still polite and distant, as if she were nothing more than a maid. 

She didn’t reply. She turned off her phone and finally fell into a deep sleep. 

The next day was the start of autumn. 

Early in the morning, her driver took her to the Kemp’s residence. Mariana was traditional; besides hosting banquets on major holidays, she also gathered the family during seasonal transitions. 

As the eldest daughter-in-law, Abigail was expected to be there to receive relatives and guests-every time, without 

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14:30 

Chapter 4 

fail, for eight years. 

Upon arriving, she overheard the guests talking about her. 

“Frederick, why didn’t Abigail come early with you?” 

“There were things at home. She’ll be here this morning,” Frederick replied, calm and even. 

Abigail pushed open the door and stepped inside. 

The room fell silent. Even Frederick looked momentarily surprised. 

288 Vouchers 

He saw his wife-the one who never wore makeup-now with delicate light makeup, her once long, flowing hair now cut short and dyed, her usual pale wardrobe replaced by a rich crabapple-colored dress. 

“Abigail, why did you come like this?” 

The others recovered and gasped, “Abigail, you cut your hair and put on makeup?” 

Mariana, who had been sipping tea, looked at her daughter-in-law in disbelief. 

She stood up and, in front of everyone, said coldly, “What is this outfit? Go change and come back.” 

The obedient Abigail of the past would have complied-but not today. 

She answered slowly, each word deliberate, “Mariana, how I dress is my freedom. I won’t change.” 

Mariana froze, stunned by the defiance. 

It was the first time Abigail had ever talked back. 

The onlookers were equally shocked-this gentle, graceful woman was acting out of character. 

Frederick, who had stayed silent, finally spoke. “Abigail, apologize to Mom.” 

earing a stern expression, came forward. “Mom, I don’t like this version of you.” 

at the two of them and felt the irony. 

In front of everyon 

band and her son, yet they didn’t support her. 

Ened 

ick, “I am not wrong. I will not apologize.” 

ud, “You don’t like me? That’s fine. I like myself this way.” 

ed gazes around her, she walked out. 

e left the Kemp’s residence, she took out her little notebook and saw the fourth wish she had written-“Find Someone who truly loves me.” 

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The Old Me

The Old Me

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Status: Ongoing Type:
The Old Me Summary & Review: The Old Me

Abigail Briggs had been married to Frederick Kemp for eight long years. On the outside, their marriage seemed peaceful — even ideal — but beneath that calm surface lay years of quiet sacrifice and loneliness. Abigail had built her entire world around Frederick and their young son, Timothy, believing that patience, obedience, and unconditional love would eventually win her husband’s affection. Yet, deep down, she knew something had always been missing — Frederick’s heart had never truly belonged to her.

Throughout their marriage, Abigail secretly followed Frederick’s ex-girlfriend, Shannon Perez, on Instagram. Shannon was the woman Frederick once loved deeply but lost because of his mother’s disapproval. One ordinary day, as Abigail scrolled through Shannon’s social media feed, she stumbled upon something that shattered her calm exterior — a photo of Frederick’s will.

In bold letters, it read: “I bequeath all of my property to Shannon Perez.”

For a long, paralyzing moment, Abigail couldn’t breathe. The world around her froze. Why would her husband, who had shared eight years of marriage and a child with her, leave everything he owned to another woman — his ex-lover?

The truth behind Frederick’s decision came to light soon after. Inside his office at Beacon Law Firm, his friend Benson Acosta questioned him about the will. “Fred, why are you leaving everything to Shannon? What about Abigail?”

Frederick, in his usual calm and emotionless tone, explained that their son, Timothy, would take care of Abigail after his death. He described Abigail as a “gentle woman” who had never raised her voice, implying she wouldn’t be angry even if she discovered the truth.

When Benson asked why Frederick didn’t just divorce Abigail and reunite with Shannon, Frederick fell silent. After a long pause, he said something that revealed the cold reality of his heart: Shannon was meant for romance, not marriage. Abigail, on the other hand, was suitable for the role of a lifelong companion — dependable, calm, and unexciting. “At the end of my life,” he said quietly, “I want Abigail by my side.”

What Frederick didn’t know was that Abigail had been standing outside his office door, holding a lunchbox of his favorite smoked beef ribs. She had overheard every word.

But instead of bursting into the room in anger or tears, Abigail remained composed. True to her gentle nature, she simply dropped the food into a trash can and walked away. Her steps were steady, but her heart felt heavier than ever.

For the first time, she didn’t want to go home. She got into a taxi, handed the driver three hundred dollars, and told him to “just go anywhere.”

As the city lights blurred past the window, Abigail reflected on her life and the choices that had led her here. Her marriage to Frederick had always been a business arrangement. It wasn’t built on love or passion, but on convenience and family expectations. She had entered the marriage hoping that her devotion might someday change things.

But love, she realized, cannot be earned through silence.

After their wedding, Abigail learned that Frederick had never truly moved on from Shannon. In time, she uncovered more details about their past — how Frederick and Shannon had once been deeply in love for five years, separated not by lack of affection but by his mother’s interference.

Mariana Kemp, Frederick’s mother, had despised Shannon for her poor background and family history. Shannon’s father was an alcoholic, and her mother had remarried and left her behind. Worse, Shannon suffered from a hereditary illness — hemolytic anemia. Mariana found this completely unacceptable. She begged Shannon to leave Frederick and even threatened suicide to make her point.

In the end, Shannon walked away. And Frederick, though heartbroken, obeyed his parents and married Abigail instead.

Over the years, Abigail fulfilled every duty expected of her. She cared for Timothy, managed the house, respected her in-laws, and stayed out of Frederick’s personal matters. She never complained, never argued, never demanded more. She believed that her patience and hard work would eventually earn her husband’s respect and affection.

But she was wrong. Her silence wasn’t seen as strength — it was taken as weakness. Her endurance didn’t earn her respect — it earned her contempt.

When she finally returned home that evening, it was already past 9:00 p.m. Inside, Frederick was helping Timothy with his homework, his usual expression serious and focused. Without even looking up, he scolded her gently: “Why didn’t you answer my call this afternoon? Timothy waited two hours for you.”

Timothy, mirroring his father’s tone, added coldly, “Mom, you do nothing at home every day. How could you forget to pick me up?”

In the past, Abigail would have immediately apologized, lowering her head and blaming herself. But this time, something inside her had shifted.

She remembered Shannon’s Instagram post from a few days ago — a cheerful photo at an amusement park where Timothy was chatting with Shannon affectionately. It was a reminder of how close her own son felt to the woman her husband still loved.

So instead of apologizing, Abigail said calmly, “I’m going back to work. From tomorrow, the housekeeper will pick Timothy up.”

Both Frederick and Timothy were stunned. Frederick asked, “Why do you suddenly want to go back to work?”

Abigail didn’t flinch. “Nothing major. Timothy’s growing up, and I want a life of my own.”

She left the room before anyone could say another word.

In her bedroom, she opened the bottom drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a small notebook — one she hadn’t touched in years. Inside were five handwritten entries — five wishes she had written down before her marriage but never fulfilled. As she read them, tears welled in her eyes.

She realized she had spent her entire adult life living for others — for her husband, her son, and her in-laws — but never once for herself.

That night, as the lights of Oceancrest Estates shimmered outside her window, Abigail made a silent promise.

She was done being the quiet, obedient wife. Done living in the shadow of another woman.

The woman who once defined herself as Frederick’s wife — the “gentle” and “harmless” Abigail — no longer existed.

For the first time, she wanted to rediscover herself — to become someone new. Someone free.

And though she didn’t say it out loud, her heart whispered the words that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another:

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