Chapter5
1529 Words
The gates closed behind Isabella with a heavy metallic sound.
Rainwater dripped from the ends of her hair as she walked slowly toward the mansion entrance, her heels clicking weakly against the wet marble pathway.
The Moreau estate stood glowing against the storm like nothing inside it had ever known pain.
Perfect silence.
Meanwhile her chest still felt like it had been ripped open somewhere inside that taxi.
The front doors opened before she could reach them.
One of the maids stepped aside immediately.
“Mrs. Moreau.”
Isabella nodded faintly and stepped inside.
Warmth wrapped around her instantly, but it did nothing to stop the shaking in her body.
The scent of expensive candles filled the massive hallway while soft piano music played quietly somewhere deeper inside the house.
Normal.
Everything looked painfully normal.
Two bodyguards stood near the staircase speaking in low voices before going silent the second they noticed her.
One looked away immediately.
The other lowered his head awkwardly.
Whispers followed after she passed.
Not loud enough to hear clearly.
But enough.
Enough to make humiliation crawl beneath her skin all over again.
Isabella tightened her fingers around her purse and climbed the stairs quickly.
The farther she walked, the harder her heart pounded.
By the time she reached the master bedroom doors, her breathing had already turned uneven.
Then slowly
she pushed the doors open.
And froze.
The room looked exactly like a celebration abandoned halfway through.
Gold balloons floated weakly near the ceiling, some already sinking toward the floor. Rose petals still covered the bed in the shape of a heart that now looked messy and ruined.
Candles sat melted beside untouched dishes.
The anniversary cake remained near the window.
Collapsed slightly on one side.
Cold.
Forgotten.
A tiny smiley face she had carefully drawn with frosting earlier stared back at her mockingly.
Happy 3rd Anniversary.
Isabella’s throat tightened painfully.
Hours ago she had stood in this room excitedly adjusting decorations like a stupid girl still trying to save her marriage.
Now the entire place just looked pathetic.
Her gaze slowly moved toward the velvet box resting near the bed.
The pregnancy test sat beside it.
Positive.
Two pink lines.
Her fingers trembled instantly.
Tonight was supposed to be different.
She had imagined his reaction so many times.
Maybe shock first.
Then happiness.
Maybe Vincent would finally hold her properly again.
Maybe this baby would fix the distance between them.
God.
How stupid had she been?
A broken sound escaped her throat before she could stop it.
She quickly covered her mouth.
Too late.
The tears came anyway.
One after another.
Heavy.
She walked toward the bed slowly before collapsing onto the edge of it, staring blankly at the untouched dinner she had prepared herself.
The pasta had hardened already.
The candles burned low.
Outside, thunder echoed across the dark sky.
Inside her head, Vincent’s voice kept replaying endlessly.
“As long as she believes she’s the problem, things stay easier.”
The words clawed violently through her chest.
A shaky breath left her lips.
Then another.
Her hand moved instinctively toward her stomach again.
The baby.
No.
Not His baby anymore.
Hers.
Only hers.
The bedroom door suddenly opened downstairs.
Voices echoed faintly through the hallway below.
Then footsteps.
Familiar.
Vincent.
Isabella wiped harshly beneath her face and stood immediately.
Her pulse slammed violently against her ribs now.
The footsteps grew closer.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Vincent stepped inside while loosening his tie, clearly distracted by something on his phone.
For a second, he didn’t even notice the room.
Or her.
Then finally his eyes lifted.
The balloons.
The candles.
The untouched anniversary dinner.
A faint flicker crossed his expression.
Not guilt.
Annoyance.
“You’re awake.”
The calmness in his voice shattered something inside her instantly.
“You’re awake?” Isabella repeated softly.
Vincent finally looked at her properly.
The tears.
The shaking in her hands.
His brows pulled together slightly.
“What happened?”
The question almost made her laugh.
Instead, she stared at him like she was seeing a stranger for the first time.
“What happened?” Her voice cracked. “That’s what you’re asking me?”
Vincent exhaled quietly, already sounding exhausted.
“Isabella, not tonight.”
The dismissal in his tone hit harder than screaming would have.
“Not tonight?” she whispered.
Her chest rose unevenly.
“I waited for you.”
Silence.
“You promised you’d come home.”
Vincent tossed his phone onto the table carelessly.
“I had something important to handle.”
The words made her eyes burn instantly.
Important.
More important than ten years of marriage.
More important than her.
Again.
“You were with her.”
The room fell silent.
Vincent’s jaw tightened faintly.
“I don’t know what you think you saw”
“Stop lying!”
Her voice cracked sharply through the room.
The sudden force of it surprised even her.
Tears blurred her vision instantly afterward.
“I heard everything.”
That finally got his attention.
A dangerous stillness settled over him.
“What are you talking about?”
Isabella reached shakily into her purse before throwing the phone onto the bed.
The audio recording screen still glowed faintly.
Vincent stared at it.
Then at her.
And for the first time all night
his expression changed.
Not regret.
Not shame.
Calculation.
The realization nearly destroyed her.
“You were going to divorce me,” she whispered brokenly. “The second she gives birth.”
Vincent went silent.
Outside, thunder cracked loudly across the sky.
Isabella laughed weakly through tears.
“Oh my God.” Her breathing shook violently now. “It’s true.”
“Lower your voice.”
The coldness of his response made her stare at him in disbelief.
“Lower my voice?” she repeated. “You got my sister pregnant!”
“Enough.”
“No!” Tears spilled harder down her cheeks now. “You let me believe I was broken all these years ”
“You’re being emotional.”
The sentence slapped harder than a hand.
Isabella stared at him like she no longer recognized the man standing in front of her.
Emotional?
After ten years?
After humiliating her like this?
“You used me,” she whispered.
Vincent dragged a frustrated hand down his face.
“I did what I had to do.”
The words hollowed her out completely.
She shook her head slowly while backing away from him.
“No…”
Her voice broke apart.
“No, you don’t get to stand there and say that to me after everything I gave you.”
Vincent’s patience finally snapped.
“What exactly did you give me, Isabella?”
The room went completely still.
She looked at him like he had physically struck her.
And maybe he had.
Because the next words nearly stopped her breathing.
“You couldn’t even give me a child.”
The sentence echoed viciously through the room.
Her heart dropped so violently she nearly lost balance.
Behind Vincent’s voice, another memory suddenly surfaced
her mother laughing softly years ago:
“You’re not enough for a man like Vincent Moreau.”
The words collided brutally inside her head.
Not enough.
Not enough.
Not enough.
Tears blurred her vision completely now.
“You knew,” she whispered shakily. “You knew the treatments were manipulated.”
Vincent’s silence answered everything.
A sharp pain twisted through her chest.
Then suddenly rage exploded through her grief.
Before she could stop herself, Isabella grabbed the nearest vase from the bedside table and hurled it across the room.
It shattered violently against the wall.
Vincent’s expression darkened instantly.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“My mind?” she cried. “You destroyed my life!”
“You’re hysterical.”
“Hysterical?” She laughed brokenly through tears. “I wasted ten years loving a man who was sleeping with my own sister!”
Vincent stepped closer suddenly.
“Enough.”
The warning in his voice sent fear flashing briefly through her body.
But the pain hurt worse than fear now.
“You disgust me.”
The words had barely left her mouth before Vincent grabbed another vase violently from the nearby table.
Everything happened too fast.
The crash exploded through the room.
Then pain.
Sharp.
Blinding.
Something warm spilled down the side of Isabella’s face as her body hit the floor hard.
A gasp tore from her throat.
For a second, she couldn’t even understand what happened.
Then blood dripped onto the white marble beneath her.
Red.
Too much red.
Her vision blurred instantly.
Vincent stared down at her motionless body.
Breathing heavily.
The broken vase pieces scattered around her like shattered glass stars.
Blood slowly slid from the deep cut near her forehead down her cheek.
And still
he didn’t move toward her.
Didn’t panic.
Didn’t apologize.
Instead, Vincent grabbed his car keys from the table.
Then his phone.
Without another word, he walked past her.
The bedroom door slammed shut behind him moments later.
Leaving Isabella alone on the cold marble floor.
Motionless.
Bleeding.
Broken beside the ruins of the life she once begged to keep.
- Writer
