Semua Bab Rejected, Now He Craves For Me: Bab 1 - Bab 10

The echo of Isabella's heels followed her up the staircase like a pulse, steady, deliberate and unyielding. She didn’t stop until she reached their bedroom, the same one that had once felt like a sanctuary but now stood as a mausoleum for everything she had lost. The morning light filtered through the tall windows, soft and golden, spilling across the room and clashing cruelly with the turmoil inside her chest. Without hesitation, Isabella crossed the room to the closet. The faint click of hangers replaced the silence as she began pulling out her clothes — dresses, blouses, silk scarves and folded them with precision. Each one a relic of a life she no longer wanted. Her hands shook only once, when she reached for the travel suitcase. It was the same one she had used six years ago on their honeymoon. She pressed her lips together and forced the tremor away. There was no time for nostalgia. She packed quickly and efficiently. And by the time she zipped the last bag shut, the p

Isabella groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead as light filtered through the sheer curtains, soft, golden, and uncomfortably bright. The sheets beneath her were cool and smooth, the scent of fresh linen mingling faintly with something expensive — sandalwood, maybe. Her skull throbbed like someone had struck a drum inside her head. She blinked once, twice. Then sat up too quickly. This… wasn’t her suite. The walls here were ivory and gold, the ceiling was higher and the furniture richer. Everything here gleamed, the chandelier above her, the cream-colored armchairs by the window, the glinting silver tray on the bedside table. Even the air smelled different, like she had climbed into a different tier of luxury. Panic crept into her chest. She looked around, trying to piece things together. Her head hurt, her mouth dry and bitter from whiskey. When she turned slightly, she saw a bottle of water beside the bed. She sluggishly reached for it but then froze. There was a folded

For some moments the room felt still. Isabella’s words hung in the air, trembling between disbelief and revelation. “I—I remember.” Jayden didn’t speak right away. He just watched her, watched the way her shoulders shook, the way her fingers pressed into the couch as though she needed something solid to anchor her to the present. He stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay, Bella. You don’t have to rush it.” She nodded faintly, though her gaze stayed fixed on nothing in particular. “It’s like… someone just ripped open a curtain inside my head. Everything’s blurry, but it’s there.” Her voice cracked at the end. Jayden lowered himself into the chair across from her. “Then don’t force it. Let it come, slowly.” And for the next few minutes, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, across from each other as the noon sunlight slanted across the suite, bathing it in a soft golden haze. After sometime, Jayden stood up and walked toward the sideboard. “You need fo

Isabella's POV I woke up in my old bedroom and forgot, for three full seconds, that I wasn’t four years old. The ceiling above me was the same pale butter-yellow it had always been, the one Mom and Dad let me help paint the summer before everything shattered. Sunlight poured through the lace curtains like warm honey, catching on dust motes that drifted and spun like tiny, careless fairies. My stuffed giraffe, Mr. Longneck, sat propped against the pillows exactly where I’d abandoned him the morning I vanished, his stitched smile faded but still patient. The wallpaper still carried that faint lilac stripe, the one Mom swore would “grow with me.” My crayon drawings (lopsided horses, a sun with a smiley face, a family of stick figures holding hands) were still taped above the little white desk, edges curled now, colors softened by twenty years of quiet light. Even the nightlight shaped like a crescent moon still glowed faintly in the outlet, its plastic worn cloudy from thousands of

Isabella's POV The Rolls hadn’t even come to a full stop before Genny was out of the car, heels clicking like gunfire on the gravel. I followed, legs numb, heart hammering so hard I could taste it. She didn’t head for the drawing room. She marched straight to the library, flung the double doors open, and snapped, “Everyone, now.” Within five minutes the entire household was there. Eli strode in still in his suit from the city, tie loosened. Jayden jogged down the stairs barefoot, laptop under his arm. Uncle Sebastian and Aunt Clara appeared from the kitchen, flour still on Clara’s hands. The twins skidded in wearing matching guilty expressions (probably had been eavesdropping anyway). Mrs. Aldridge hovered at the doorway, twisting her apron. Jayden already had his phone out. “Mason’s on in ten seconds.” Genny didn’t wait. She pointed at the biggest sofa. “Bella, sit. I sat. The screen on the coffee table lit up. Mason’s face appeared: hotel room somewhere in A