Chapter2
1412 Words
The restroom door slammed open so hard the sound bounced against the tiled walls.
“Isabella, thank God. Where have you been? We need you in the ICU now.”
Isabella blinked at her reflection before quickly locking her phone screen. The unread voicemail disappeared into darkness.
For a second, she remained frozen by the sink.
Mascara stains sat faintly beneath her eyes. Her lipstick had faded hours ago. Strands of dark hair escaped from her bun, softening the sharp exhaustion on her face.
She barely recognized herself lately.
“Bella!”
The urgency in her colleague’s voice snapped her out of it.
She grabbed her coat and hurried out of the restroom, her rubber soles squeaking against the polished hospital floor. Nurses rushed past carrying trays and files while the distant sound of a crying child echoed from somewhere down the hallway.
The hospital never slept.
Neither did heartbreak.
“She’s bleeding again,” her colleague rushed out while trying to keep up beside her. “The husband is causing a scene downstairs. Security had to interfere.”
Isabella pushed through the ICU doors without another word.
The moment she entered, the pressure swallowed her whole.
Machines beeped loudly.
Doctors shouted over each other.
The metallic scent of blood mixed heavily with antiseptic in the air.
“BP is dropping!”
“We need another unit now.”
The patient lay unconscious on the bed, skin pale beneath the harsh white lights while blood soaked through the sheets underneath her trembling body.
Isabella moved instantly.
Everything personal inside her shut off the second she reached the operating table.
That was the thing about pain.
You learned how to fold it neatly and tuck it somewhere nobody could see.
“Scissors.”
Someone dropped the instrument into her waiting hand.
Sweat gathered beneath her gloves as she focused carefully on the torn tissue they were trying desperately to repair. The woman had already lost too much blood.
“Careful.”
“I know.”
The room blurred into organized chaos around her.
Monitors screamed.
Footsteps moved rapidly.
A nurse brushed against her shoulder while adjusting the IV line.
Still, Isabella stayed steady.
Precise.
Controlled.
It amazed people sometimes, how calm she could remain under pressure.
Nobody knew it was because she had spent years teaching herself how not to fall apart.
After nearly two exhausting hours, the monitor finally steadied into a normal rhythm.
The entire room breathed again.
“She’s stable.”
Relief spread quietly among the staff.
One of the younger nurses nearly sagged against the wall from exhaustion while another muttered a tired prayer under her breath.
Isabella stepped back slowly, peeling the gloves from her hands.
Her fingers ached.
There was dried blood near her wrist.
For a moment, she stared at the wedding ring sitting on her finger.
Cold silver.
Heavy silver.
A promise that had stopped feeling like one years ago.
“You saved her,” the nurse beside her whispered softly.
Isabella forced a small smile.
Saved her.
Funny enough, she wasn’t even sure she could save herself anymore.
By the time she left the operating room, her entire body felt drained. She pushed open the swinging doors and stepped into the quieter hallway outside.
The hospital lights suddenly felt too bright.
Too sharp.
A little girl ran past holding a stuffed rabbit while her father followed behind carrying balloons and flowers.
Somewhere nearby, someone laughed.
Isabella looked away quickly.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She pulled it out instantly.
Nothing from Vincent.
Her chest tightened anyway.
Tonight was their anniversary.
Three years.
Three years of trying harder.
Three years of waiting for warmth from a man who treated affection like a burden.
Still, like an i***t, she dialed his number.
The call rang.
And rang.
Then finally
“What is it?”
His voice came low and distracted.
Isabella slowed her steps near the visitors’ waiting area, fingers curling tighter around the phone.
“I just wanted to know if you were still coming home tonight.”
Silence.
She heard muffled movement in the background.
“I told you I’m busy.”
Her throat burned slightly.
“It’s our anniversary.”
Another pause.
This one colder.
“Stop calling me when I’m in an important meeting.”
The line disconnected immediately after.
No goodbye.
No hesitation.
Nothing.
Isabella stood there quietly staring at the screen long after the call ended.
Around her, people continued moving through the hallway like normal. Nurses laughed at the station nearby. An old television mounted in the corner played muted news no one was watching.
But inside her chest, something small cracked again.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for her to feel it.
She inhaled slowly and started walking again.
Then she noticed the bodyguards.
Her steps slowed.
Black suits.
Earpieces.
The familiar Moreau security team standing outside one of the private VIP suites.
A strange feeling twisted inside her stomach immediately.
Before she could stop herself, Isabella looked toward the slightly opened door.
And froze.
Vincent sat beside the hospital bed, his expensive suit jacket tossed carelessly over the nearby chair. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms while he held a bowl carefully in one hand.
Her sister rested against the pillows looking weak and fragile.
Vincent lifted the spoon toward her lips patiently.
“Slowly,” he murmured.
That voice.
Soft.
Gentle.
Isabella felt her chest tighten painfully.
Because she had spent ten years begging for scraps of attention from that same man.
And here he was giving tenderness so naturally to someone else.
Her sister smiled faintly while Vincent brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You should rest more.”
“I’m fine,” her sister whispered weakly.
“You almost scared me to death.”
The words hit Isabella harder than they should have.
Scared me to death.
When had Vincent ever sounded afraid of losing her?
The answer came immediately.
Never.
One of the guards shifted slightly and Isabella stepped back before anyone noticed her standing there.
Heat rushed into her face.
Humiliation followed right after.
She turned quickly and walked away, heels striking the floor faster and faster while something ugly crawled up her throat.
The locker room was empty when she entered.
Thank God.
The second the door shut behind her, the strength left her body completely.
She sat heavily on the bench, pressing trembling fingers against her mouth.
The room smelled faintly of detergent and old perfume.
Someone’s forgotten coffee cup sat near the sink.
Normal things.
Ordinary things.
Yet her entire world suddenly felt unfamiliar.
Her phone vibrated again.
This time she answered without checking.
“Took you long enough,” Tiffany’s cheerful voice burst through immediately. “Paris is officially overrated. A man flirted with me for twenty minutes then asked if I could split the bill. I almost committed murder.”
A broken laugh escaped Isabella before she could stop it.
Tiffany went silent instantly.
“Bella?”
Isabella lowered her head.
The tears came quietly at first.
One.
Then another.
“Hey,” Tiffany’s voice softened immediately. “What happened?”
Isabella tried speaking but her throat tightened too hard.
She hated this.
Hated crying.
Hated feeling weak.
Hated that after everything Vincent had done, he still had the power to hurt her like this.
“I saw him,” she whispered finally.
Silence filled the line.
“With her?”
Isabella nodded before realizing Tiffany couldn’t see her.
“He looked at her like…” Her voice cracked softly. “Like she mattered.”
The words nearly shattered her all over again.
Because that was all Isabella had ever wanted.
Not money.
Not luxury.
Not the Moreau name.
Just to matter to someone.
Tiffany exhaled slowly on the other side.
“Bella, listen to me carefully.”
Isabella shut her eyes.
“You cannot keep dying inside for people who sleep peacefully after hurting you.”
The locker room blurred through fresh tears.
For years, Isabella had convinced herself love meant patience.
Sacrifice.
Endurance.
If she stayed long enough, loved hard enough, broke herself enough, maybe one day Vincent would finally choose her.
But tonight, standing outside that hospital room, watching him touch another woman with care he had never once shown her
something inside Isabella finally started waking up.
And it terrified her.
Because for the first time in years…
she was no longer sure she wanted to stay.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD