Chapter 7

** Caught Between Two Worlds**

The café was silent except for the faint clinking of glasses in the distance. Isabelle’s mind raced as Michael’s words echoed in her head: “You choose, Isabelle. Him or me. But you can’t have both.”

Michael’s hand rested on hers, warm and steady, while her emotions swirled in chaos. She had been torn between the comfort of her life with Andrew and the intoxicating freedom she felt with Michael. Now, that decision stood before her, demanding resolution.

“I…” Isabelle began, her voice faltering. “I don’t know if I can make that choice, Michael. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Michael’s eyes softened. “Isabelle, you have to decide. I can’t keep being your secret.”

Her breath caught. “I need time,” she whispered.

“Time is running out,” Michael replied, withdrawing his hand. He stood and adjusted his coat, his movements stiff. “I care about you, Isabelle. But I won’t wait forever.”

With that, he walked away, leaving Isabelle alone in the booth, staring at the untouched coffee before her.

Back at home, Andrew was in the living room when Isabelle returned. His silence was deafening, his presence heavy with unspoken accusations. Isabelle slipped past him, muttering something about needing rest.

But as she entered the bedroom, she was met with a surprise. Standing by the window, gazing at the garden, was Andrew’s sister, Amelia.

“Amelia!” Isabelle exclaimed, her voice tinged with shock. “When did you get here?”

Amelia turned, her smile polite but tight. “Just an hour ago. Andrew didn’t tell you I was visiting?”

“No,” Isabelle replied, her stomach knotting. She forced a smile and added, “It’s wonderful to see you.”

Amelia was Andrew’s older sister, a woman with a sharp tongue and an even sharper sense of observation. Her visits were rare but often came with hidden motives.

As the evening wore on, the three of them sat for dinner. The atmosphere was thick with tension, though Amelia seemed oblivious—or perhaps she was simply pretending not to notice.

“So, Isabelle,” Amelia began, her tone casual but probing. “How have you been keeping yourself busy these days?”

Isabelle hesitated, feeling Andrew’s eyes on her. “Oh, you know, just the usual,” she replied, her voice too bright. “Taking care of the house, running errands.”

“And the wine bar?” Amelia asked, her gaze piercing.

Isabelle froze, the fork in her hand trembling slightly. “Excuse me?”

“I thought I saw you there yesterday,” Amelia continued, her expression unreadable. “I must have been mistaken.”

Andrew’s jaw tightened, his knuckles white as he gripped his glass. Isabelle forced a laugh. “I stopped by for a quick coffee. Nothing special.”

Amelia smirked but said nothing further, leaving Isabelle to stew in her discomfort.

The next morning, Isabelle tried to focus on cleaning the house, desperate to maintain a semblance of normalcy. But her mind kept wandering back to Amelia’s pointed remarks. Was she trying to stir trouble, or did she already know about Michael?

As Isabelle wiped the kitchen counter, she heard voices from the living room. Curious, she moved closer and found Amelia and Andrew in a heated discussion.

“Andrew, you’re blind if you don’t see it,” Amelia was saying.

“See what?” Andrew replied, his tone defensive.

“I’m saying Isabelle isn’t the person you think she is. Open your eyes before it’s too late.”

Isabelle’s heart pounded in her chest. She stepped back, accidentally knocking over a vase. The loud crash echoed through the house, cutting their conversation short.

Amelia appeared in the doorway, her eyes narrowing. “Isabelle, are you alright?”

“Yes,” Isabelle stammered, kneeling to pick up the shards. “Just clumsy, that’s all.”

Amelia’s gaze lingered, and for a moment, Isabelle felt like a trapped animal under her scrutiny.

That evening, Amelia suggested they all go out for dinner. Isabelle reluctantly agreed, hoping the outing would alleviate some of the tension.

At the restaurant, things seemed to go smoothly—until Amelia excused herself to the restroom. Moments later, she returned with a man in tow.

“Look who I ran into!” Amelia announced, her voice overly cheerful.

Isabelle’s stomach dropped. It was Michael.

Michael’s eyes widened briefly before he composed himself. “Good evening,” he said smoothly, addressing Andrew.

Andrew offered a polite smile, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension. “Do you two know each other?”

“Not at all,” Amelia replied quickly, her gaze darting between Isabelle and Michael. “He just seemed like a nice guy to introduce to Isabelle.”

Isabelle’s face burned. Michael, ever the charmer, played along. “A pleasure to meet you both,” he said, his voice steady.

The rest of the meal was excruciating. Isabelle avoided Michael’s gaze, terrified that Andrew might notice the sparks flying under the surface.

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Amelia’s Game

Back at home, Isabelle confronted Amelia. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice low but furious.

Amelia feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Bringing him to dinner? That was cruel.”

Amelia’s expression hardened. “I’m trying to protect my brother, Isabelle. He deserves better than someone who sneaks around behind his back.”

Isabelle’s breath hitched. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think I do,” Amelia replied, her tone icy. “And if you don’t come clean, I will.”

Later that night, Isabelle sat alone in the garden, the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She knew she couldn’t keep the truth hidden much longer—not with Amelia circling like a hawk.

As she stared at the stars, her phone buzzed. A message from Michael: We need to talk. Now.

Isabelle hesitated before replying: Not tonight. Too risky.

But before she could put the phone away, Andrew stepped into the garden.

“Who are you texting at this hour?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with suspicion.

Isabelle looked up, her heart pounding. “Just a friend,” she said weakly.

Andrew didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers. “Isabelle,” he said, his voice low, “I’m not blind. And I’m done pretending I don’t see what’s happening.”