Regrets From Ex Won't Win Me Back

Richard and Isabella pulled up to his parents' grand house. It was their fifth wedding anniversary, but Richard hadn't said a word about it all day. As they got out of the car, Isabella tried one last time to remind him.

"Richard," she said softly, "do you know what day it is?"

He checked his watch. "It's Friday. Come on, we're already late for the celebration dinner."

Isabella's heart sank. He had forgotten completely. She had planned a special dinner at home, but Richard insisted they come to his parents' house instead. Now she was stuck at the last place she wanted to be on her anniversary.

"Hurry up," Richard snapped as he strode to the front door.

Isabella followed behind, holding back tears. This was not how she imagined celebrating five years of marriage. But she put on a brave face as Richard rang the doorbell, preparing herself for another difficult evening with her in-laws. Isabella's pulse raced as she heard footsteps coming from inside. The door slid wide, showing Mrs Stone, who was immaculately dressed and smiled tightly.

"Richard, darling! You're here at last," she exclaimed, pulling her son into an embrace.

Her eyes slid past Isabella as if she wasn’t there. “Good evening, Mother,” Richard greeted.

Isabella followed, forcing a smile. “Good evening, Mother. Thank you for invit-“

But her mother-in-law had already turned away, speaking over her. “Richard Come in. The guests have arrived and have been asking for you."

Richard stepped inside, and Isabella followed quietly.

"Excuse me, ladies, business calls," He said with a sweet smile on his face, a totally different demeanor from earlier.

As he disappeared down the hallway, his mother finally acknowledged Isabella with a critical once-over. “Oh, you’re wearing that dress again? I suppose it’s...nice enough for a family dinner.”

Isabella’s cheeks burned. “I thought it would be appropriate for...“

“Never mind that now,” said her mother-in-law, flinging her hand and dismissing the matter impatiently.

Mrs. Stone's expression suddenly changed. She turned to Isabella, her tone sharp. "Isabella, where are your manners? You've been here for how long now, and you haven't even greeted George?"

Caught off guard by the sudden shift, Isabella stammered, "I... I'm sorry, I didn't realize... Where is he?"

Mrs. Stone's expression hardened. "You didn't think it was right to go and say hello to him as soon as you arrived? Honestly, Isabella, haven't we taught you better manners?"

Isabella flushed. "I'm sorry. It totally skipped my mind. I should go say hello, where is he?"

"Nonsense. There's no excuse for such poor manners. Isabella, you have a lot to learn about how to conduct yourself in society."

Mrs. Stone led the way towards her husband, while Isabella walked behind her.

Richard and Mr Stone were chatting with business associates when they noticed the women approaching. Mr Stone spoke up "Richard, let's talk with the family."

He smiled at his wife but frowned slightly at Isabella."Good evening, sir, "Isabella greeted.

Mr Stone scoffed, his lips curling in contempt. "It's funny that you would attend a company function when you contribute nothing to its growth.”

"So lazy and materialistic," Mrs. Stone continued, her voice rising with indignation.

"When they told me you had arrived, I thought it was a joke." Mr Stone said in a cold tone. “It's a shame that you are here to celebrate our success. Success that will have nowhere to go because you can't provide an heir. You know a tree that’s not fruitful is useless and should be cut off.”

Her mother-in-law tsked loudly. “You know I was talking to Mrs Coleman the other day. Her daughter-in-law is expecting their second child already in just three years of marriage.”

Isabella’s hand tightened on the hem of her dress

Some women just seem to know how to make their husbands happy.” Really, dear, it’s been five years. One would think you’d have managed to conceive by now. Are you even trying?”

Warmth flooded Isabella’s cheeks. “Of course, we’re trying,” she murmured, avoiding her husband Richard’s gaze, who remained silent at the opposite end of the table.

“Maybe,” her mother-in-law went on, her voice laced with disdain, “you’re not doing something right. In my days, we knew our duty as wives. We didn’t disappoint our husbands or their families.”

Isabella’s fingers tightened into a fist. “Trust me, I am working my heart out.”

Isabella thought back to all those times she’d been to the hospital. The doctors kept saying her health wasn’t a big deal, but she still couldn’t get pregnant. Eliza, her cousin who was a nurse once told her it might just be bad luck. Isabella sighed, thinking maybe she was right after all.

Looking at Isabella with cold contempt, her father-in-law leaned forward. "Let me be clear. You have one job in this family, and you're failing miserably at it. We need an heir, girl. Without that, you're nothing but a burden and a disappointment. Tell me, what exactly are you good for?"

Isabella felt as if she'd been slapped. She glanced at Richard, silently pleading for support, but he was engrossed in conversation with a young lady, laughing as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"I-I'm doing everything I can," Isabella whispered, her voice trembling. "The doctors have said—"

"Doctors!" her mother-in-law interrupted with a sharp bark of laughter. "A truly devoted wife doesn't need doctors to fulfill her duty. Face it, Isabella. You're either incompetent or deliberately sabotaging this family's future. Which is it?"

Isabella felt something break inside her. The years of criticism and disappointment hit her all at once. She stood up quickly, her chair making a loud noise against the floor.

"Enough," she said, her voice trembling but clear. "I have tried so hard to be what you want. I've changed how I dress, how I talk, even how I think. But nothing is ever good enough for you."

The room fell silent. All eyes were on Isabella.

"I am not useless," she continued, looking directly at Mrs Stone. "I am not a failure. And I am certainly not here just to give you grandchildren. I am a person, with feelings and dreams of my own."

Mrs Stone's face flushed with anger. She stood up slowly, picking up her glass of champagne. "How dare you speak to me like that in my own home," she said, her voice dangerously low as she splashed the champagne on Isabella

Isabella stood there in shock, champagne streaming down her dress, completely humiliated. The group around them had fallen silent, all eyes on her.

"I...I'll just..." Isabella stammered, fighting back tears.

"Yes, you should," Mr Stone said coldly. "And do try not to make a spectacle of yourself when you return. If you return at all."

As Isabella hurried away, she could hear Mrs Stone's voice behind her, "I do apologise, everyone for the ruckus."

As Isabella made her way toward the bathroom to clean up, the sound of murmurs and gasps filled the air behind her. She turned slightly, curious about the sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere. A ravishing-looking young man had just stepped through the entrance, and it felt as though time itself had stopped.

Tall and impossibly handsome, he exuded a magnetic charm that was impossible to ignore. His dark, perfectly styled hair framed a face that seemed chiselled from marble—strong jawline, high cheekbones, and deep-set eyes that sparkled with intelligence and mystery. His tailored suit fit his athletic frame with precision, the deep navy fabric catching the dim light, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim waist. It was as if every detail of his appearance was meticulously crafted to turn heads.

As he entered, the guests paused mid-conversation, some even halting their laughter to watch him in awe. The air charged with excitement and whispers of admiration. All eyes were on him, and the once-lively ballroom grew eerily quiet except for the soft ripple of gossip that spread like wildfire.

"Is that Seth Donovan?" someone whispered in awe. "He’s even more striking in person."

"I heard he’s an elusive figure," another murmured. "No wonder he’s making such an entrance."

As the whispers continued, Seth’s sharp gaze swept across the room until it landed on Isabella. For a moment, his eyes softened ever so slightly, locking onto her as if nothing else in the room existed. Without a word, he began walking toward her, his presence parting the crowd effortlessly. The guests, still murmuring, instinctively cleared a path for him, their fascination with his every move evident.

Isabella's heart raced as he approached, her breath catching in her throat. She felt exposed in her champagne-soaked dress, but something in his gaze was disarming, almost comforting.

When Seth finally stood before her, the murmuring grew louder. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a pristine white handkerchief, his movements calm and measured. Offering it to her with quiet confidence, he spoke in a deep, smooth voice. "Here, allow me."

Isabella, still stunned by the moment, accepted the handkerchief, her fingers brushing his briefly. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the lingering buzz of the crowd.

As she dabbed at her dress, he spoke again, his voice gentle yet commanding. "You're Isabella Stone, aren't you?"Her head jerked up, surprise and confusion filling her gaze. "Yes...I am. But how do you—?"

"Seth Donovan," he introduced himself smoothly, his eyes never leaving hers. "We haven’t met before, but I know of you. Your work on the Leadway series—remarkable, truly. Your designs revolutionised the industry."

Isabella blinked, her shock deepening. "You remember that? It was so long ago..."

A hint of a smile still playing on his lips. "Hard to forget brilliance. Your work was pivotal. It's a shame the industry hasn't seen your talent in recent years.”

Isabella hesitated, glancing back toward the gathering where her husband and in-laws were. "Life happened, I suppose," she said softly, trying to keep her composure. "Responsibilities changed, priorities shifted.

Seth nodded in understanding, but he wasn't content with her hazy response. "If you ever decide to return, know that there are individuals who would be overjoyed to see your work again. I included."

Isabella smiled, feeling a rare sense of validation. "Thank you, Mr Donovan. That means a lot."

"Please, call me Seth," he said warmly. "And if you ever need anything, feel free to reach out." He handed her his business card.

As Isabella took the card, she felt a strange sense of hope stirring within her. "I appreciate that, Seth. Truly."

Seth gave her a reassuring smile. "Take care, Isabella.”

Seth walked off and Isabella stood staring at his back as she looked at the handkerchief and the business card. For the first time in a long time, she was appreciated for the real her as opposed to all the things that were wrong with her.

Isabella cleaned herself up as best she could, but her dress was still damp and stained. She went back to the party, looking for Richard. As she entered the main room, she heard loud laughter and excited chatter.

She pushed through the crowd and saw Richard in the centre. He was with a beautiful woman - a model Isabella recognized from fashion magazines. The woman was standing very close to Richard, laughing at something he said. Richard was smiling broadly, looking more relaxed and happy than Isabella had seen him in a long time.

"Richard, you're so funny!" the model said, touching his arm.

Isabella tried to get to Richard, calling his name. But the crowd wouldn’t let her through. She watched helplessly as Richard leaned in close to the model, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle.

Suddenly, Mrs Stone appeared at Isabella's side. "Look at you," she said coldly. "You're a total mess. You never fail to embarrass us."

Before Isabella could respond, Mrs Stone waved to two large men in dark suits. "Please escort her out," she ordered. "She's clearly not in a state to be here."

"No, wait -" Isabella protested, but the security guards took her arms firmly.