There's One Thing I Like About Him

Chapter Six

Isabelle

I reached for a cigarette, lit it up, and sank back into the comfort of my bed. The exhaustion from the day’s events weighed heavily on me, pressing down like an invisible burden. As I exhaled a cloud of smoke, I felt a momentary release from the chaos swirling in my mind. After a few more drags, I extinguished the cigarette and turned toward him.

I placed my hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the thick fabric of the blanket. The gentle thumping was a soothing contrast to the turmoil inside me. I closed my eyes, letting that steady pulse anchor me, if only for a moment.

He leaned closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, his breath warm against my skin. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle whisper in the quiet room. His concern was genuine, and though I wanted to offer some reassuring words, I found myself simply leaning into his touch, allowing his presence to calm my frayed nerves.

The day had been an emotional storm, filled with stress and tension. But in this intimate moment, with him by my side, I found a semblance of peace. The lingering scent of the cigarette mingled with the quiet serenity that had enveloped us.

His kiss was slow and tender, a quiet exploration of the connection between us. It wasn’t rushed; instead, it felt deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second, every delicate touch of our lips. As we lay there, entwined with one another, the rest of the world faded into the background. His warmth and the softness of his touch made it feel as though we were the only two people in existence. The simplicity of the moment made it all the more profound, leaving me feeling both elated and deeply connected to him.

“I love you, Belle,” he whispered softly in my ear. His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you too, Markus,” I responded, my voice filled with sincerity.

He pulled away slightly, sitting up on the edge of the bed before standing. “Don’t you need to go to the hospital, babe?” he asked, glancing back at me. I rolled my eyes, feeling the irritation bubble up inside me. Why should I care? I’ve spent eight long years with a man I don’t love, all because of some ridiculous arrangement between our parents. If it weren’t for social status and wealth, I would have walked away long ago. Love? I never felt that for Ethan—not even for a second. I’m only here for the lifestyle he provides.

Markus and I have been together for five years now, and my feelings for him have only grown stronger. Unlike with Ethan, my love for Markus is real, raw, and passionate.

“There’s only one problem,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper as I clenched my fists. “Your ex, Trisha. She might ruin everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve. I feel like I should deal with her myself, make sure she doesn’t get in our way.”

Markus remained calm, a reassuring smile on his lips as he finished buttoning his shirt. “Don’t worry; she won’t get in the way,” he promised, his voice steady and confident. “I’ll make sure of it.” He winked at me, and despite my simmering anger, I couldn’t help but feel reassured by his confidence.

I rolled my eyes again, then stood up and walked over to my closet, searching for something appropriate to wear to the hospital. My fingers grazed a simple yet elegant dress. This should do, I thought. After all, I still needed to maintain the façade of a concerned girlfriend in front of Ethan’s parents.

Markus offered to drive me to the hospital before heading home. It was already eleven o'clock at night, and the fatigue was beginning to weigh heavily on me. I asked him to drop me off at a nearby restaurant first so I could pick up dinner for Ethan’s parents. I was sure they hadn’t eaten yet.

“Don’t give me that look, babe. It’s hard enough pretending to care about them,” I muttered as I stepped out of the car.

He smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready, babe.”

A few minutes later, I returned to the car with the food in hand. Ethan’s parents had been bombarding me with calls, and their incessant neediness was beginning to grate on my nerves. I opened the backseat and placed the food there before we continued driving.

Markus stopped the car in front of the hospital. “Thank you, babe,” I said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. His kiss was gentle, but there was an underlying intensity that made my heart race. The tension between us was electric, a palpable force that seemed to draw us closer together. I shifted in my seat, sliding onto his lap, feeling the heat of his body against mine as I tried to provoke a reaction.

“Markus,” I moaned softly, letting the affection and desire in my voice weave through the air. He responded by caressing my face, his touch gentle yet electrifying. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear with a tenderness that made my heart flutter. At that moment, I felt a surge of deep, undeniable love for him. How I adore this man—every touch, every glance, every unspoken word between us seemed to solidify the bond we shared.

But I knew I had a role to play. Reluctantly, I pulled away, smoothing down my dress as I prepared to face the reality awaiting me inside the hospital. The charade had to continue, and I had no choice but to play the part of the dutiful girlfriend.

As I walked into the hospital, the sterile environment immediately surrounded me, the smell of disinfectant and the quiet hum of machines filling the air. I steeled myself for the act I was about to do, reminding myself that this was all necessary for the greater goal. When I finally reached the waiting area, I saw them—Ethan’s parents, huddled together in worry, their faces etched with anxiety.

And then I saw her, Trisha, standing with a mix of guilt and sadness in her eyes. My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to stay composed. Trisha looked fragile, as if she could break at any moment. For a brief second, I wondered what kind of hold she had on Ethan—what made her a potential threat to everything I had planned with Markus. But I quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

I walked up to Ethan’s parents, putting on the best concerned expression I could muster. I felt their eyes on me as I reached out to hold Mrs. Alvarez’s hand. The moment our hands touched, tears welled up in my eyes—tears that I forced myself to shed.

“I’m so sorry, Lucy, that I couldn’t come sooner.” I began, my voice trembling slightly to add to the performance. My secretary told me what happened, but I was stuck in a very important meeting and couldn’t leave right away.”

Mrs. Alvarez looked at me with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. “It’s okay, dear. We understand, and I’m sure Ethan will understand too.”

I nodded, offering them a small, sympathetic smile. It was all part of the act, and I perfected it over the years. Behind me, I could feel Trisha’s gaze. She was watching me, studying every move I made. But she didn’t matter—not now, not ever.

As I continued to comfort Ethan’s parents, I could see Trisha and her friend Alexa preparing to leave. Trisha looked like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Instead, she gave a small, sad smile and turned to walk away. I watched her leave, a sense of satisfaction blooming inside me. She was nothing—just a pawn in this game I was determined to win.

But as I stood there, holding Mrs. Alvarez’s hand, a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Trisha might not have been much of a threat now, but people like her—those who cared too much, who were too good—had a way of making things complicated. I would need to keep a close eye on her, make sure she stayed out of my way.

With a final comforting squeeze from Mrs. Alvarez’s hand, I excused myself to check on Ethan. As I walked down the sterile corridors toward his room, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread mixed with anticipation. The game was on, and I had no intention of losing.