SEVEN

~Isabella's P.O.V.

When I opened my eyes, it was eleven o'clock in the morning. I couldn't recall when I had fallen asleep. The night's tears blurred my vision. My gaze searched the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. So was I alone here? Did he leave? But where?

After a moment, the creaking door drew my attention, and I turned. He entered with a shopping bag in hand. His face was cold and emotionless.

"Put it on and get ready," he commanded, pushing the shopping bag toward me. He was in a trouser shirt now. I hastily took it from him and went into the bathroom. I was scared of him. The events of the previous night had left me fearful of him; his intensity suffocated me. After a quick shower, I wore a navy blue dress, the wet strands of my hair clinging to my skin.

When I came out, I found him sitting on the couch, lighting a cigarette, patiently waiting for me. Did he wait for me? Why? There are a lot of questions in my mind, but I have to wait to get the answers.

The intensity in h