Chapter Three

Isabella had to force herself to breathe.

Breathe. She told herself.

You can't break down here. You cannot fall apart.

She had, in truth, never actually met the woman of which Ronan spoke. But like an ever-present body, the woman was there, between them, a constant nuisance in their marriage. And she was back.

Back in their lives. Back to completely strip her of what she loved fiercely. Tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away rapidly.

"I am telling you this so that you do not make the mistake of making the truth of our marriage public. I do not want a scandal."

"A scandal," she repeated, brokenly, while Ronan watched her with eyes as cold as ice as he always did.

But today, that ice was like a dagger, cutting through her heart into tiny little unmendable pieces.

You break my heart and all you can think of is a scandal. She thought bleakly.

For eight years she had loved him. With body, with soul, with heart and mind.

She had loved him, and given him the best of her, but still, he watched her with no emotions. And when there were emotions, it was either hate or disregard.

She took it all in stride, in hopes that one day things would change. In hopes that one day, some kind of flicker of love would light up in his heart for her. And oh how completely wrong and naive she had been to believe such a lie.

For here he was, bringing up the woman who was back, and jealousy welled up in his heart.

It was comical really, to be jealous for a man who really didn't care for her. Even after using her, he still treated her like trash.

"Ronan, these past years, did you ever, did you ever love me? For once?" she found herself asking, and her voice sounded odd to her ears. It sounded like a little child, desperate for love.

But she had to know. She simply needed to.

"No, Isabella. Not even once." he bit out and tore out her heart

But she snorted. Not even once.

He still watched her with those eyes, and they became like mockery to her, laughing at her naivety, laughing at her love for him, laughing at the way she hope he would love her.

For three years they'd been married, three years she had done all of the things a wife should and shouldn't do. For three years.

And what did she get in return?

Shame, and disgrace. Hurt, and irrational hatred. And she didn't deserve any of that.

And she laughed, a small snort that grew into hysterics, and Ronan watched her, confused.

He didn't understand why she had been standing so still since he gave her the news that the woman was back, and now she was laughing like one who had lost her mind.

But Isabella’s laughter soon grew into tears. Tears of pain, as she mourned all that she had hoped for and never gotten. As she mourned all of the parts she had lost for him. Always for him.

But he would never love her. That much was now very clear as daylight.

"Do you worry that our marriage should not become public?" she asked, dabbing at her wet cheeks, "then don't you worry, Ronan. Nothing of such will ever happen. I can assure you," she said and raised her head like a flint, jutting out her chin in his direction.

She had made her choice, no one would ever know of their marriage, because in a matter of days, their marriage was going to be over.

He looked at her, feeling nothing as close to compassion at her, but couldn't help but admit one thing that made his brows furrow. He might have had a hard time standing her, but she was very beautiful.

A shame, he thought, that such a beautiful face belonged to one he found terribly annoying.

"Well," he began harshly, "seeing as we are both on the same page, you can now leave my office," he said coldly.

Odd, how she didn't even feel the need to scream at him. Oh, her heart was definitely broken, and the pieces lay shattered at his feet. But all the fight had actually left her,

"As you wish, Ronan." and turned around and headed for the door.

Before she left, she took one look at him and quietly said, "I'm so sorry."