Chapter 5

 

ISABELLA'S POV

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Ryan's expression fell, and I bit the insides of my cheek to try to stop my heart from racing.

The urge to strangle Ryan was possibly written on my face. This had gone so wrong!

 Mama's eyes darted between us, her stoic expression betraying nothing, but I could sense her unease.

We all sat there in silence, the tension building with every passing moment. I couldn't bring myself to speak, my throat dry and my mind racing.

"That seems... Great?" Mama forced a smile, trying to play along. "Isabella has said so much about you. Thank you for inviting us over." Her words were heavy with unspoken accusations.

I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and I could tell he was struggling to keep his composure. Mama, however, seemed unaffected by the tension, firing off questions and observing our reactions with a keen eye.

The hours seemed to drag on as my mother and Ryan continued to converse, with me serving up the baked cookie, mom had made me bring along for Ryan. I tried my best to keep a straight face, not wanting to reveal my discomfort as my mother praised my domestic skills. All I could think about was how much I wanted this whole charade to be over.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we both got up to leave and my mother waved goodbye to him as I forced a smile, the very moment he led us to the taxi stand before he excused him. The tension in the air was palpable, and I couldn't help but rub my arms as a chill ran down my spine.

As soon as Ryan was out of sight, my mother turned to face me and I felt a wave of goosebumps prickling through my skin despite the warmth of the streetlight beside us.

"Isabella, what exactly is going on?"

I—" I began, but my mother cut me off with a snap of her fingers.

"Don't you even think of lying to me again!" Her eyes blazed with anger, and I swallowed hard, knowing that now was not the time to defend myself.

"Let's just go home, Mama," I said, trying to sound calm and rational. "Let's talk there."

She didn't even respond, just turned and walked into the waiting taxi I had flagged down, leaving me to follow in her wake.

The moment the cab rolled to a stop in front of our house, my mother's temper was already starting to boil. “You better start speaking to me young lady!” she snapped, the moment we stepped out of the car.

I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my skull as I fumbled with the front door, struggling to get the key into the lock with my trembling hands.

"Mama, this isn't how it is. I'm sorry it came off this way," I began, but she just stared at me, her expression blank.

I let out a sigh, running my hands through my hair. "Fine. I'm sorry that I lied to you, Mom. I didn't mean to. I swear."

She continued to stare at me.

 "I didn't want you to worry about me. Your health isn't strong enough to handle the stress."

Mama just stared at me, her expression hard. Finally, she sighed and shook her head. "This isn't a reason to lie to me. What if I had approved of Ryan without knowing who he was? I couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt and me not being able to help you."

I hung my head in shame. "I'm sorry, Mama."

Mama took a deep breath and sighed. "So how did you really meet Ryan? Tell me, child."

"We've already known each other for three days..." I trailed off as I saw the look on my mother's face tighten. "No, wait Mom, Ryan is a good man. I know we don't have any strong feelings for each other right now, but I can tell you that as time passes, we'll bond and we'll develop feelings for each other."

My mother sighed, rubbing her chest as if in pain. "Fine! I wouldn't have believed you if I hadn't seen Ryan's gentlemanly behavior for myself. But that doesn't mean I'm sold on this idea yet."

Just then, my mother began to cough hard, the sound of her hacking reverberating through the room. I rushed to her side, patting her back in an attempt to help her breathe. But as she continued to cough, I saw something that sent a chill down my spine: blood. My mother was coughing up blood.

I froze in shock, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched her convulse, the crimson liquid spilling from her mouth and staining her clothes.

The sight of my mother coughing up blood sent shockwaves through my body, my mind reeling as I tried to process what was happening. I felt like I was frozen in time, unable to move or speak as my brain went into overdrive.

Somehow, my feet were moving on their own, carrying me to my room and making me dial 911.

"Wh-what are you—doing?" My mother's voice broke through the fog of panic, and I ran to her side.

"I'm calling an ambulance," I said, my voice quivering. I'm going to take you to the hospital. You'll be fine, Mama," I said, trying to sound reassuring even as my voice cracked. My eyes were burning, my body trembling with fear and exhaustion.

But deep down, I knew something was very, very wrong.

My mother snapped, her eyes narrowed in anger as she waved me away, struggling to lean back against the sofa. "NO!" she growled, her voice furious. "Don't bother with the hospital. It's a waste of time and money. The doctors will just run useless tests, and nothing will change. No one can help me, Isabella. No one can find out what's wrong with me."

Her words were like a punch to the gut, and I felt my world begin to crumble around me.

As I watched her lean back against the sofa, her eyes closed in exhaustion, I felt a tear slide down my cheek.

Every day, I prayed for a miracle that never came. Every day, my mother grew weaker, her body wasting away before my eyes. I was helpless, lost in a sea of fear, unsure of what to do or who to turn to for help.

I crouched before her and took my mother's bony hand in mine, trying to hold onto her.

"I'm sorry, Mama," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose you."

My heart felt like it was breaking. I knew that, whether I was ready or not, my mother was slipping away from me.

~~~

Mama's chest rose and fell beneath the thick blanket I had wrapped her in. As I moved to tuck a few strands of grey hair behind her ear, a few fell out, the sight of them like a fist in the gut, a harsh reminder of how fate hated us both.

 I clapped a hand over my mouth as a sob escaped my throat and fled to the corner of the room, unwilling to let my tears fall any more.

I couldn't afford to think. The feeling of utter helplessness was too much to bear, and I needed to be strong for my mother in her last days.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, jolting me out of my thoughts. My heart raced as I wondered if it was Ryan, but the glimpse I caught through the peephole revealed a stranger in uniform, his presence making me freeze in place.

I hesitated, unsure of whether to open the door.

As I opened the door, the stranger turned towards me, pointing his finger. "Miss Isabella?"

I nodded, rubbing my arms as I eyed him warily.

"Here please," he said, extending a box and a slate-like device. "Sign here."

"Thank you," I muttered after signing, taking the box from him and watching as he left.

Shutting the door, my curiosity

got the better of me and I began to unwrap the box, uncovering a beautiful invitation card and some souvenirs. My brow furrowed in confusion.

Who was getting married?

I felt my breath catch as I read the words on the card. "NOAH'S BIRTHDAY INVITATION." My fingers tightened around the box, ready to fling it across the room when a handwritten note caught my eye.

With my nose scrunched up in disgust, I picked up the note, determined to see what kind of lies my ex was trying to spin this time. "Dear Isabella," it read, "trust your day is beautiful as the early morning sunlight. I'm sorry for trying to reach out again despite how much you've warned me not to…I just would like you to pick up your call as an emergency has occurred. PS: this is my birthday invitation. Please pick up the call that would arrive on your cell phone once you're done reading. With warmth, Noah.”

I rolled my eyes as I read the note, but my phone soon began to ring, the caller ID showing an unknown number.

"What the hell do you want now, Noah?" I snapped into the phone, my voice ragged with anger. "I told you to stay away from me!"

A silence fell over the phone, broken only by a single, drawn-out sigh from the other end.

"I know, Isabella," Noah said, his voice soft. "But this is urgent. Cindy and I have broken up."

My blood began to boil as I listened, my mind reeling with the sheer audacity of his request. "So what? What do you expect me to do? Fry water? What do you want from me, Noah?" I growled, the anger within me swelling to a crescendo. "What should I do? Wish you a happy breakup?"

"Isabella, please listen..."

But I had reached my breaking point. I could feel my heart racing, my blood rushing in my ears.

"You want me to feel bad for you?" I seethed. "You want me to comfort you?"

"No no, please listen, Isabella..."

I was ready to hang up when he said something that made my blood run cold.

"I already found out about evidence and details of Cindy plagiarizing your works. I have them. I swear."

"So you found out what next? You want us to get back now? You're delusional!" I spat, my anger rising anew.

"Wait! I just want you to attend my birthday party. If you're willing, I'm ready to tell you everything in person."

Without a word, I hung up the call, my hand shaking with a mix of anger.

Slowly, I moved away from the hallway and into my room, where I began to ransack through my wardrobe. Finally, my gaze fell upon a large box, hidden away in the back of the closet.

My heart raced as I gingerly pulled it out and set it on the floor, brushing away the dust that had settled on the top.

My fingers trembled as I opened the box and pulled out my old design craft drafts. The memories of Cindy plagiarizing my design back then in school as I was the top student liked by teachers and then falsely accusing me flooded back.

But what made me angry was that Noah, the man I once loved, testified on my behalf, but it wasn't enough to save me from being disqualified.

My heart thumped as I whipped out my phone and typed, "I'm coming." I knew that this could be my chance for revenge.