Chasing the Divorced Billionaire Heiress

ISABELLA’S POV

Just like yesterday, I remember meeting James in the hospital after my motorcycle accident. It was love at first sight. We got married two days later without informing my family or telling James the truth about my family background. Today was our 2nd wedding anniversary, and I was ready to reveal the whole truth.

"Not today of all days."

I murmured, glancing at the clock with growing impatience. It was fifteen minutes past 9 p.m., and James was not yet back.

Another thing that was growing was my incessant fatigue. I was not too fit; I had been feeling weak for some time now, my throat itched, and even my breathing was labored. Yet, I had neglected all these to look good, cook, and decorate the room just so we could have a perfect 2nd wedding anniversary dinner.

Just then, my phone rang, breaking my train of thought—it was my father, Elliot Harrington.

“Isabella, your mom said today is your second anniversary with your husband,” Dad said, his voice lower than usual.

“Yes, Dad. I'm ready. I believe he loves me for who I am, not just what I have.” I replied, trying to sound confident.

“Remember, if you think he didn’t, you know what to do,” Dad said, his voice carrying the weight of our agreement.

“I understand, Dad,” I said softly. “I will call you later, Dad. I have a lot to prepare,” I added before ending the call.

I arose slowly to my feet and ambled towards the window to peep at the gate from there, but it was noiseless and empty.

I gasped, already feeling frustrated, as I started to pace from one end of the room to the next.

"I just hope James doesn't ruin today with the funny attitude he has been displaying lately."

I sighed, trying not to consider the suspicions I had been having due to James's recent misbehavior.

For some months now, I have been noticing a deterioration in his smile whenever he is around me. It had become worse since the last few weeks; he was colder now, he spent more time than usual at work, and on some occasions, when I would call, a female voice would respond instead, saying he was busy.

I suspect that the major reason for this switch in his attitude was my inability to get pregnant. I remember how he used to be so fun when talking about our future and the number of kids we would have. But now, the sparkle in his eyes was gone, leaving only the shadows of a muted grudge.

That was why this anniversary was kind of special to me; it would give us a chance to iron things out like adults, a chance to make things right again, and finally unveil the truth about my identity.

I sat back on my seat tiredly, tapping my finger on the desk.

I was watching my phone on the decorated study table, wondering if I should just call him or exercise a little more patience. My anxiety was growing.

After a few seconds of guessing what the next action to take should be, my patience finally ran out.

I yielded to the second thought and immediately grabbed my phone and called the hospital number, where the receptionist informed me James had left over an hour ago.

The drained voice of the female handler came next after a small beep.

"Over an hour ago? Where could he be then? Our house isn't that far."

I turned around to grab my coat the next instant and stepped outside without a second thought.

The cool night air outside felt twice as chilling to me, particularly because of my recent frailty, but I could not afford to mind.

I stood outside the gate and tried calling James's number this time, but the call went straight to voicemail.

“Please leave a message.” The machine's voice blurted.

“James, it's me, honey; please call back as soon as you get this.”

I ended the call and exhaled, gazing into the darkness with a mix of frustration and paranoia welling up inside of me.

I placed my hands on my waist, feeling defeated, and for that same reason, I started to feel tears brushing around the corners of my eyelids.

The imminent failure of this date was such a hard pill to swallow, knowing how eagerly I had waited for this night.

The memory of our first anniversary night became vivid once more. The rain of laughter and love, and how the future had appeared so bright and new.

The force of the nostalgic emotion hit me so strongly that my breath became shaky, and the tears I had been trying to hold back finally spilled over. I wiped them away with the back of my hand and sniffed repeatedly, trying to compose myself again.

I returned to the sitting room a few minutes later, feeling a little more stoic while explaining away the letdown in my mind on behalf of James.

"I believe there must be a good reason for this.”

I dragged my foot out of the room, heading toward the direction of our bedroom.

But as I passed by the living room, the TV, which was still turned on, suddenly caught my attention. A news anchor was speaking excitedly about something.

"...the elusive Phantom Medic has done it again, saving a life with a groundbreaking procedure in a remote village. The identity of this mysterious doctor remains unknown, but their reputation continues to grow. Hospitals across the country are eager to recruit this medical marvel…”

I paused for a moment, and a smile appeared on my lips, despite my exhaustion. “The Phantom Medic, hun!”

I shook my head knowingly and stopped by the sitting room instead. Turning off the TV and sinking into one of the couches, the soft cushions offered a measure of comfort. I placed my phone on the coffee table, which now served as a silent reminder of the call I desperately hoped to get.

“Just this once, James,” I murmured.

“You should have tried harder and picked us over your job, just this once.”

As the minutes turned into hours, exhaustion began to overtake me. My eyes grew heavy, the weight of my emotions grew twice as heavy, and eventually, my fatigued body yielded to a quiet hush of slumber.

The following morning, I sprang up from the couch with a jerk, realizing I had spent the whole night in the sitting room.

I brushed my dry face with one palm. The first thing I could immediately think of, as soon as my sight and mind became clear, was James.

I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and tried calling his number once again, my fingers moving very quickly.

The line rang through both times, but there was no answer from his end.

"What is really going on? Or did he decide to stay back at the hospital?"

I shook my head again, and for some reason, I decided to try the number for the last time while on my feet.

But to my surprise and shock, I started to hear the sound of James's ringtone from the room next to the sitting room; it was coming from the guest room.

"Did he come home while I was asleep?" I queried with lines on my forehead.

I held out my phone like a compass, strained my ears, and followed the sound slowly till I was out of the bedroom. The sound from the ringtone got closer and closer.

“What!?” I screamed.

The moment I finally pulled the door to the guest room open, my face froze. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of disbelief and fury boiling inside me. I wanted to scream, to lash out, but my legs felt like lead.