CHAPTER THREE

ISABELLA’S POV

“See what the cat dragged in after four days.” Elena let out a smug look on her face. “Just enough time to have all the fun in the world while your husband suffers. Poor Alaric. It must be such a headache to be married to you.” She added, her tone dropping, causing me to clench my teeth.

Two years after school, and yet nothing had changed. That is such old bitchy behaviour from a spoilt brat. I rolled my eyes and tried to walk past her, squeezing Mireille’s hand not to give a response. My whole body was on fire. The pain was getting worse with every second that ticked by, even though the Doctor admitted to giving me painkillers. I still had to show up some other days to get checked.

“You don't get to leave when I’m talking!” She threatened, pulling me back and causing my head to let out a bang. My heart rate rose, and I could feel it hammering against my chest as memories of the accident flooded my mind. I could smell the lingering petrol in the air. The world was closing in. “You bitch! If only you had never drugged him that night, he would have married me, not you. You stole him from me, you ugly thing, and I will get him back.” Her face was closed now. Her breath was on my face, and a stabbing pain gawked at my heart.

Who was I kidding thinking my marriage to him would ever be a fairytale?

Before I could comprehend what was happening, Mireille pulled her by the hair, anger evident on her face.

“You goody two-faced bitch. Go on talking to my girl like that. Like you didn't just try to steal her man on her fucking anniversary. You…” The words came out in a breath as I watched Elena struggle, screaming and yelling for pain. But my BFF didn't seem impressed.

“What the hell is going on here?” Alaric’s voice sliced through the air before he rushed towards Elena. His gaze was on her. “Are you good?”

Was he inspecting her? I was the injured one, and yet the one he cared for was her. I watched Elena slide her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder.

“No, Alaric. This…” She pretended to be out of breath. I could tell, but he was always too gullible when it came to her. “I was advising her to treat you better and make you happy because you deserve it when…her friend here hit me, Alaric. I just…” She blinked, pretending to cry, and he warmed up to her. A scoff ran past my lips. Anger engulfed me like a room full of flames.

“Be nice, Isa. Elena came here trying to help. The whole house was…”

“I will be in my room. Please take me, Mireille.” I cut in. Weariness seeping into my soul. I had no interest whatsoever in anything he did, or they did.

“Not without telling me where you have been? That would be ridiculous. Four days, Isa. Four fucking days of not picking up the phone to call me. To check up on me. Yes, I couldn't make it the other night because of work, but all the same…”

I let out a laugh. One that got higher and higher with each agony that pierced through my soul. Work?

“What’s funny, Isa? The home was a mess when I came.” His jaw was clenched hard. My eyes roamed over him. The man I used to love, and I realised how stupid I have been.

“Are you even the definition of a husband? Do you know what she fucking went through at the…” Mireille was saying when I squeezed her palm and shook my head.

Nothing would change after all. Regardless of his knowledge, he would always see me the same way as the gold digger who tried to sleep my way into his wealth.

“I was talking to my wife!”

“And I was defending my best friend! One of us has to be responsible enough to do that!” Her face was formed in a frown.

Elena scoffed, wrapping her arms around her chest. “Letting her talk to your husband like that. Only heavens know what you told her.”

“You shut up before I pull another thing that isn't your hair!”

“Get out!” Alaric’s voice shook through the house, making me freeze. “Mireille, leave.” He seethed.

I caught her before she could make another remark. “I will call you, Mireille. Thank you.” I whispered and watched her give me a reluctant look before finally retreating after sending Elena one last angry gaze.

The second the door closed behind me, I started to drag my feet away. The Doctor said it would take a while to heal.

“I know this marriage isn't built on love, but I demand your loyalty. It is the least I get from being your husband.” He said after me, but I ignored him, tired of everything. “Elena cooked. You should come down to eat and stop acting up.” He added before turning towards Elena.

I could tell because his voice softened as he spoke to her, and I let out a small breath, tears stinging my eyes.

Soon, I had freshened up and sat at the table with a soup plate. As I sat there, I prayed that he would come to his senses and love me. This was the last chance—the last push before I let it all go. I could feel her eyeing me.

“You should eat. She spent all day cooking it.” He informed.

A day for a pot of soup was weird, but I didn't say a word and watched him take a spoonful of his. He never tasted my meal, yet he sent her a smile occasionally. Yet, I scooped the soup, needing it to regain my strength as I hadn't had the appetite all day. Slowly, I felt something building at the back of my throat, gradually becoming tense and swollen. I hit my chest repeatedly for air, but my allergy had gotten the best part of me. I caught a smirk on her face.

“Quit the drama, Isa. I want some good rest.” He sounded displeased, and my eyes watered, my vision blurring. My butt hit the floor as I struggled to get away. My drug was in the room. Without it, I could die. “Just stop already.”

My whole body vibrated, and my head got lightweight.

“I think she has an allergy. Has to be.” It was Elena’s voice, faking concern yet again.

In a second, Alaric cupped me in his arms, my head against his chest.

“Where is your drug?” He asked repeatedly while all I could do was point.

My body oozed in pain as he carried me up the stairs. Not another glance at me, and I could feel his shoulders tensing up. In our two years of marriage, this was the first time he touched me willingly. I felt my back touch the bed as I drifted in and out.

You know that dire moment when your memories flash before your eyes. It did now, and I saw nothing but unhappy ones. Nothing but a representation of my misery and ill fate. And soon, the darkness pulled me in.

When I pulled my eyes apart, he was staring down at me. My heart thudded as I took in how handsome he looked.

“Pulling that stunt to get me to talk to you was childish.” His words sliced through my thoughts, and I stared at him in disbelief.

Me? How?

“Elena went through so much to care for things after you left. The least you could have done was to appreciate her.” He paused, getting up and stepping away. “Apologise to her when you come down.” He added, then exited the room, and I let the built-in rage out, muffling into my pillow as I let the tears flow.

At that moment, I knew it was all over. I just wasn't the one.

The effect of the drug and the turmeric took all night to wear off, and soon, I was standing in Alaric’s study room. His face was buried in the stack of files he had there, and just like every other day, he paid me no attention. Sighing, I pulled the paper Mireille had brought for me this morning, stretching it towards him.

“What's that?” He questioned, still not lifting his head.

“Divorce papers. I want a divorce, Alaric.” I squeezed out.

Finally, he looked up. His gaze lingered on me for a while. I could almost swear that I caught fear in his eyes for a second, but it was gone as soon as it came.

“Isn't that too much drama for a mistake you made?”

I let out a dry laugh. The old me would have argued with him. But I just lost all will to.

“It’s signed, Alaric. Please do the needful. I don't want to hold you back anymore.” I informed him, placing it on the table before leaving the room.

My steps were slower than on other days as I awaited him to run forward and stop me. Tell me how sorry he was and how he was willing to make us work. But I guess being delusional was not always the solution.

Because till the end, he never loved me.

I blinked back the tears the second I closed the door. The hole in my heart deepened, and a sad smile creased my lips. The next second, I felt my phone vibrate against my pocket, and I pulled it out with shaky hands, hoping it was him.

“Hi, Mireille.”

“Isa!!” She was panting. “ Remember the art contest I told you about? You got in. I will pick you up in two days, and you had better be ready.”