Isabella Swan Birthday Novels & Stories

"She's getting so big, Bella. I can't believe she's almost one." Almost one. The phrase hit Isabella harder than expected. In a few weeks, Lily would turn one year old. One year since that agonizing labor. One year since Isabella's life had changed completely. One year of surviving and struggling and somehow making it work. "I need to plan a party," Isabella said suddenly. "Nothing big. Just us and Rosa and maybe some of the other daycare kids. But something to mark the occasion." "I'll bring the cake," Grace offered immediately. "And decorations. And my camera because this needs to be documented."

“Gentlemen, let’s not spoil the evening. Isabella is about to cut her cake.” At the center of the Ballroom Johnathan clinked his glass, drawing everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please.” The room quieted, and all eyes turned to Johnathan. He smiled warmly. “Tonight, we celebrate my daughter Isabella’s 21st birthday. Isabella, please come to the center.” Jennifer stepped forward, trying to keep her nerves in check. Johnathan handed her a knife. “Make a wish, my dear,” he said softly.

One Year Later Twelve months,forty-eight weeks and three hundred and sixty-three days since we lost Isabella and Ireal was born. Tomorrow is her death anniversary and Ireal's birthday. Well technically it is her birthday but I had it moved to the next day after Isabella died. I didn't want her to feel sad on her birthday. She needed the whole day for herself. I have been preparing her first birthday since like forever and it finally here. I can't believe she is almost 1,very soon she'll be a teenager and we'll leaving off to college.

With Isabella in my arms and her gaze locked on mine. "We're celebrating..." She clarifies one of my questions. C'mon, Isabella... Don't leave me hanging. I hum. "Celebrating what?" I poke the bear once more. "My birthday. It's... my birthday." "Oh..." I smile, and without even thinking about it, I spin her out, away from me, before pulling her back toward me. Isabella's scent hits me first- fresh and floral. It's a light smell. The one where you have to be close enough to smell it. And, boy, am I close enough.

I saw her sitting and I walk towards her. “Sister Anna, I called her grabbing a seat beside her. “My little Isabella” she called, that is what she commonly called me. “Sister Anna, I am no longer little, I will be celebrating my 18 birthday tonight and I will be able to meet my fated one," I let out, feeling so delighted. “Oh my, my little Isabella is no longer a child she will be celebrating her birthday tonight, congrats my dear Isabella,” she mutters.

Isabella trailed her fingers across the fabrics, feeling the richness beneath her touch. Her thoughts raced. A dress for me… after all these years of being invisible, cast aside. Now I will walk into that banquet as Adrian Sinclair’s daughter, the heiress they tried to erase. “Grandma,” she said slowly, her voice thoughtful, “are you throwing a birthday party for me?” Beatrice smiled knowingly. “Of course. A grand banquet—for you and Sophia. Don’t forget, you share the same birthday with Sophia, Lilian, and Isadora. All of you are turning nineteen today.”

They were rival packs and there’s no way they would be together without his parents disapproval. A knock on her study door interrupted her thoughts. “Come in.” She quietly said, helping herself to a glass of tequila. In came Carlos with a wrapped present in his hand. “Happy birthday, alpha.” He said with a smile, carefully placing the present on her desk. “I’m sorry it’s coming late.” He apologized as her birthday was actually the day before. Isabel had totally forgotten about her own birthday because her thoughts were occupied with finding her mate. It was her nineteenth birthday.

(Guys, from here inwards, Isabella will be called Bella. Enjoy!) Years ago Isabella Grey was 6 years old when her mother died. It was barely three months after her mother's death that her father brought home another wife. They even had a daughter who is a year older than Isabella. Her new mother was none other than her mother's best friend aunt May.

She walked over, ruffling my hair as she passed—a gesture that always made me feel ten years old again—before settling into the armchair opposite us. "I was joking. But Isabella is family now, which means her problems are mine. I heard about the café. I heard about Valentina." She said. The room went quiet for a beat. My mother’s humor faded, replaced by a cold, protective steel. "She’s a disgrace to every woman who has ever held a child. Now, tell me about the birthday. I heard the gossip from the staff." "The 28th," I said, a sense of irony washing over me. "The same day as your gala. She was born in a London alleyway on the same day you celebrate your foundation."

And those creatures, we have to cut off their heads. Aiden turned and walked out, leaving Emily as confused as she was angry. "Am I called an animal?" she weighed indignantly, with a strong sensation of adrenaline in her body, something she had never felt. * The following days, Isabella did not want to leave the Sinclair mansion, and her grandmother respected him, it was not easy what the young woman had gone through and what, perhaps, she had yet to go through. However, there was one way out that Isabella could not escape: choosing the wedding dress.