“If you want to know the truth about your husband, come to this address. 1588 Belmont Drive. Now!"
Isla stared at the anonymous message, the address mentioned was one she knew too well, it was the description of Hayes vacation home, not too far from the mansion she shared with her husband. Her expression remained neutral at first, but soon she could not help but scoff, waving the phone and shaking her head. “Fraudsters…Gossip phishers!” This must be a desperate attempt to stir trouble in her marriage and then put it on the news. Well, they could try such games with any other woman out there, but not her, Isla Hayes. “Not Nate," Isla murmured, shaking her head. "He would never." Three years of marriage had solidified her trust in him. He was a man of discipline, a man of his word. And, more importantly, the circumstances that had led to their unusual union made him owe her a debt that neither of them ever brought up but was deeply understood. The thought of that debt made her look up slowly at the wedding portrait of Nate and herself hanging above the alcove in the dining room where she was sitting. The photo captured a moment frozen in time— her in a simple ivory dress, him in a tailored suit, both smiling but with a distance in his eyes that only she seemed to notice now. "A marriage of convenience," some had called it, but she had always believed it could grow into something more. With a small sigh, Isla pushed away the thoughts. She was preparing a special dinner earlier before the rude interruption. Her dear husband would be home soon from his business trip to Wisconsin. She took a step toward the kitchen, but before she could reach the counter, her phone vibrated again. She rolled her eyes knowing it was yet another message from the first sender, already prepared to block the sender. But as she held out the phone, the next sight stopped her breath. It was a photo this time. A photo of Nate entering the previously mentioned vacation home. Isla blinked hard staring at the image. Something was grumbling in her stomach. “But.. but, he told me he was going to Wisconsin for a business trip.” “So why was he there?” A part of her brain tried to wave it off again as a misunderstanding but it did little to quell the doubts this time. A live photograph was way too much proof to overlook. With a deep breath, she turned off the stove, grabbed her car keys, and started hurrying towards the door. Less than an hour later, Isla pulled up at Belmont Drive. Her hands trembled as she saw Nate’s SUV was parked right outside. Her heart pounded. So he was really here? But why will Nate return without telling her? She made her way in and on getting to the first door, she took another deep breath and pushed it open. The sight that greeted her nearly gave her a heart attack. It nearly made her fall but she struggled and found balance. Nate was really there, and not just that, he was with a woman. Again, not just any woman but Vanessa Reed, her own best friend. Vanessa was perched on Nate’s lap, her head thrown back in laughter without the slightest concern that Isla was around. And like someone in a bad dream, Isla shivered and shouted their names. "Nate! Vanessa!" Her husband’s head snapped up first, his expression startled. But far from guilty. Vanessa, on the other hand, merely smirked and looked away, as if Isla was some random woman instead of the wife of the man she was flirting with, instead of her own best friend. The room was spinning. Isla pinched herself, suspecting it to be a dream. But the scene before her remained unchanged. It was painfully real. Nate exhaled finally, before rubbing his forehead and meeting her gaze. “We both know this marriage was never about love, Isla. It was…practical. For both of us.” Isla gasped, stepping back as if she had been slapped. " Practical? Is that all it has ever been to you?" The foods she cooked, the nights she stayed up waiting for him, the way she had tried to build a life with him—had it all meant nothing? While still staggering from that blow, Vanessa’s voice came next. "It’s time you knew the truth, honey. Nate and I love each other very much." To crown it up, Nate nodded to acknowledge it. Isla felt her face and eyes burning up. She swallowed hard and blinked, but tears did not come. She tried not to scream. She tried not to crumble. Instead, with great difficulty, she turned on unsteady legs and walked out of the room. She stepped into her car minutes later. And as her buttocks touched the seat, reality started to dawn on her slowly. Her marriage, which she had spent three years trying to nurture into something real, was over in the blink of an eye. *** One month after everything, Isla lay slanted and dejected on the bed of her room in her family house thinking about the soul-crushing betrayal over and again. Nate didn't even try to put up a fight to keep her. Not in the slightest. He had wanted out, and he got it without hesitation. A divorce. Had it always been a lie? Had she been blind all along? How long had they been seeing each other behind her back? Had she ever truly mattered to Nate? She stayed in that position for minutes, lost in the deafening silence of her thoughts until the sudden sound of the door made her look up abruptly. Standing in the doorway was her sister Sophia, her attitude hesitant, but without further delay, she blurted out. "Nate and Vanessa are getting married tomorrow.” Isla’s eyes almost tore apart, while the hair on her skin stood. “Tomo..what?” A whole marriage in just one month? Her lips opened, but no other words came out. Where does that ever happen? Her gaze slowly shifted away from her sister, a bitter realization making her face fall. They had been together all along. The words Vanessa had spoken that night resounded again. "Nate and I love each other very much." It hadn’t been a sudden affair. It had been premeditated. For the first time since that night, she felt something other than numbness. It was the bursting, vengeful force of rage and this time, she wouldn’t bury it.At Dawson McMahon’s hospital bed, Isla’s weak frame was lying on one of the blue-sheeted beds at ward 19. Her face was looking pale against the pillow.Surrounding her were those who mattered most to her in life: her parents alongside her sister Sophia, standing and watching with faces heavy with concern mixed with gloom.Then Caden, who had both of his hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on her.Finally, there was Tiara, who kept strolling back and forth from the wall to check on her after every 10 seconds.Things remained like this for a few minutes until the moment Isla stirred on her bed.Her hand twitched under the sheets, followed by a soft, sleepy groan.Then, very gradually, she started to open her eyes.It was the ceiling that came into view first.Then she started to turn slowly only to be greeted by the familiar faces hovering over her.At first, they were a blur, like figments of imagination.But when she blinked again, making it really slow and careful, her mother’s face,
The next morning Isla awoke, blinked hard, and let out a low groan as she slowly observed the dark room she suddenly found herself in. It was wide, exclusive, and unfamiliar. Nothing rang a bell. But judging from the little she could see, everything was screaming hotel room. “Wait… a hotel room?” What was she doing in a hotel room? She sat up quickly, placing one palm on her pounding head. “What the hell…” For a long, suspended second, everything was blank. But then, very slowly, the flood of memories before her blackout started to return. Isla gasped, letting out a breath of panic, searching until her fingers found the nearby light switch. She pressed it, and like magic, the shadows instantly vanished from the room. And then she saw him…someone. A figure lying on the couch at the far end of the room. For a second she thought the dizziness was still in her system. She blinked, wiped her face once, then looked again properly. But no, she wasn't dreami
Isabella’s arrival at the downtown hotel room was still very fresh, yet the walls were already starting to feel too tight for her. Her breathing kept coming in short bursts, her arms folding and unfolding by themselves as she walked from one wall to the next furiously. The memory of how she left Damien’s house had returned again to torment her. This was probably the twelfth time she was flashing back to that night. Her first ejection was bad, but this second one was ten times worse. She just could not erase it from her head: the humiliation, the look on Isla’s smug face as she stood beside Damien like some triumphant queen. The way she… Isabella of all people had been forced to shrink back, to leave in disgrace, like some desperate, broken piece of trash…it was unforgivable. She let out a rush of hot breath and then paused to whisper with her eyes narrowed. “That witch” That wretch… She had bitten off more than she could chew. But tonight… It was going to be a turning poi
It was early evening.Damien and Collins were seated at their usual spot at the rooftop bar with two lowball glasses set before them.However, today they had rare company in their midst. In the person of no one else but Isla’s younger sister…Sophia Carter.She had actually stopped by only moments ago, still dressed in the clothes she wore to work. She wasn’t here to join them for drinks. This was business… secret business.She had come as planned, just as she and her in-law had discussed earlier a few days ago.There was something she was here to collect from Damien, and that was a white, embossed envelope with a soft golden seal. Inside it was the official planning and early guest list for a major event Isla had no clue yet was coming…a surprise wedding. It was supposed to be the final stroke to crown all the struggles and tough victories the couples had experienced together in the past few weeks.So right now, Damien was handing the envelope to her with a calm smile as he murmur
"Can the dead live again?"That was the question hanging in the air as almost everyone in the room stood back with arms frozen to observe the unbelievable sight. Some were still staring, stiff with denial. Others blinked over and over again as if hoping that the image would flash and disappear. But Richard did not disappear. He remained in one place, solid and breathing.Then slowly and very steadily his gaze started to move towards the side of the room where the so-called family lawyer was sitting.Barrister Edward had not so much as blinked since Richard first appeared seconds ago. Now, with the full heat of those resurrected eyes on him, Edward could not help but tremble on his seat.His throat was openly bobbing with effort, but words failed him.Finally Richard opened his mouth to speak, and the first three words from his mouth sounded like gunshots.“How dare you?”Several people gasped. Someone at the back jerked involuntarily.And as for the lawyer himself, he nearly leap
The following morning after his father’s passing, Damien had woken quite early.He was before his reflection again this morning.The expression on his face was hard to read except to his wife… Isla.She was right beside him again, just like yesterday, gently adjusting the collar as it is with their little tradition.But unlike yesterday, she didn’t speak. Her silence was soft and quiet in understanding.It carried respect for his grief.Her eyes lingered on his face, thinking about everything again.It was true that Damien and his late dad had not been close for most of his life. Yes, the man had been absent, cold, and unreachable. But Richard Blackwood was still the only father Damien ever had.The one person who, even in his final days on earth, had tried imperfectly to mend what he had broken. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.And now even he too was gone forever?Isla let out an inaudible sigh, reaching out to fix a cufflink now.A few seconds after this, a sharp sound f