Isabel’s POVSlapping Emerson was not something I ever imagined myself doing. Yet the sound of my hand hitting his cheek echoed through the bathroom. His head jerked to the side. For a moment, he looked utterly stunned. “Isabel!” His eyes were wide with a mix of shock, anger and pain. He stepped back as if I had splashed cold water on his face.I stormed out of the room. He ran after me. “Isa, wait!” I turned around to face him. He seemed to have sobered up instantly. A clarity appeared in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His lips moved, but whatever he wanted to express was trapped within."I'm going to sleep in the second bedroom tonight," I said, my voice trembling. "Take a break, we can talk tomorrow morning." Emerson nodded silently and walked away, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.What did he want from me? Had he gone completely insane? His actions were erratic, and his emotions seemed to swing wildly
Isabel’s POV:Emerson stared at me, his brows furrowed. He was thinking of my words as if he were wrestling with a difficult problem. His eyes were intense, almost desperate. “You won’t die... I won’t let you die. Never. I’ll be with you,” he declared. His voice was unsteady, but filled with an unexpected determination.I looked at him in disbelief. This couldn’t be real. “You’re drunk. Alcohol makes you lose your mind,” I said, shaking my head. “Didn’t you forget you already have Lilith and Liam?”His expression shifted to one of pain. He murmured, almost to himself, “Oh... yeah... I have them.”I felt a flicker of hope die within me. “Do you still think you want me?” I asked, not expecting a genuine answer.“I...” He started to speak, but then his knees buckled. He almost fell.I caught him and guided him to the bed. He groaned and collapsed onto it. He quickly slipped into unconsciousness. As I watched him sleep, I felt a mixture of sorrow and confusion. What did he truly want fro
Emerson’s POVI walked into the bar at my friend Alex's party. I needed to vent my negative emotions. The looming divorce had annoyed me for many days, gnawing at my peace. I was grateful for his invitation. The bar seemed like the best place to go. The thumping bass of the music and the clinking glasses should have been a distraction. But my mind was elsewhere. Thoughts of Isabel and our unraveling relationship overwhelmed me. I had some shots, trying to numb my confused feelings.Suddenly, I caught sight of a familiar face. Could it be? I made my way up closer through the crowd, and… There she was - Isabel! I was shocked. What was she doing in a place like this?She looked drunk. She was teetering on the edge of her stool with a drink in hand. I never thought she would be at this type of party. But tonight, she was here, and she looked... different. Her sweet smile and flushed cheeks made her seem almost ethereal under the bar's neon lights. Her golden hair waved around her beauti
Isabel’s POVEmerson's voice was cold and demanding over the phone. "Why is there hair all over the bathroom? Are you cutting your hair for some strange hobby?" His voice was thick with doubt.My heart raced as I tried to come up with an explanation. I couldn't let him know the truth. "Maybe it's from your new mistress," I retorted sarcastically, hoping to deflect his suspicions. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Then, with a frustrated huff, he hung up. I hoped he wouldn’t obsess over this issue any more. But knowing Emerson, I doubted he would let it go easily.The after-effects of chemo were relentless. My body felt like it had been through a war. Nausea, fatigue, and aching joints were my constant companions. My hair thinned more each day, falling out in clumps. I dreaded the day I would have no hair left at all.I had to run some errands on my way home. At the supermarket, I felt weak and insecure. Each step felt heavier than the last. I caught a glimpse of
Emerson’s POVToday, a strange feeling of unease gnawed at me. Why did I feel so terrible? Perhaps it was the weather. Stuffiness and gloom hung in the air, casting a shadow over everything. I needed some fresh air to shake off this terrible feeling. I dialed my mother’s number. The phone rang a few times before she answered.“Hello, Emerson! How are you, dear?” Her voice was warm and cheerful.“Hi, Mom. I was wondering if I could come over for a visit and pick up Liam,” I said, trying to sound happy despite the strange turmoil inside.“Oh, of course! We’d love to see you. Your father will be glad to see you too,” she replied. “I’ll get our private chef started on making some delicious pastries. I know how much you love them.”“Thanks, Mom. I’ll be there soon,” I said, feeling a small smile tug at my lips. She had a habit of treating me as if I were still a boy.“Drive safely, Emerson. We can’t wait to see you,” she said before we hung up.Lilith had gone traveling with her close fri
Isabel’s POVAs I slowly regained consciousness, I realized I was no longer surrounded by smoke or flames. Instead, I was in a luxury Porsche Panamera. The soft leather seat beneath me and the quiet hum of the engine were a surreal contrast to the chaos I’d just escaped. I glanced around. I tried to piece together what had happened, when my eyes landed on Emerson. He was driving. His face was tight with concentration and—was that pain? Cold sweat dotted his forehead. His jaw clenched as if he were trying to keep himself together.What on earth happened? I looked down at myself, taking in the soot-stained clothes, the scrapes, and burns on my skin. The memories of the fire came rushing back. Emma's apartment, the smoke, the panic. And then, like a flash, I realized who must have pulled me out of that inferno. Emerson. But why? Everything was a blur. The confusion made my head spin.I stared at him, trying to make sense of it all. But he avoided my gaze. His silence felt heavy. I was
Isabel’s POVAs we drove toward Emerson’s villa, I couldn’t shake the growing confusion gnawing at me. Why was he so obsessed with my illness? The man who had shattered my heart, who had chosen someone else over me, was now determined to drag me to his private doctor. It was absurd, almost laughable. The same man who had betrayed our marriage was now so concerned about his ex-wife. I didn’t know whether to be angry, amused, or just plain tired of the emotional rollercoaster he kept putting me on.“Stop the car,” I demanded, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.Emerson didn’t even glance my way. “Don’t be stubborn, Isabel,” he said, his tone as cool and unyielding as ever. “We’re almost there.”I clenched my fists in my lap. Frustration bubbled up inside me. “I don’t need your help, Emerson. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”He ignored me. His focus was fixed on the road. “Eric will be there with the doctor. I want to see what’s wrong with you,” he said, as if
Isabel’s POVI returned to the bedroom. My hands were trembling as I tried to mask the storm of emotions raging inside me. The email I had just seen haunted my thoughts. "Evidence of Allen White’s crimes”... What were they talking about? Had Emerson been behind my father’s downfall all along? Yet here he was, injured because he risked his life to save me. It didn’t make any sense.I took a deep breath and forced my expression into something neutral. Emerson was still where I left him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless. His back was full of deep gashes and burns. The sight of the wounds stirred something in me—a mix of pity and anger. If he hated my father so much, why would he save my life?“Let’s get this over with,” I said quietly. I approached him with the first-aid kit in hand.He didn’t say a word, just nodded and turned his head away. I started to clean his wounds. My touches were as gentle as possible despite the turmoil inside me. My mind kept drifting back to that em