A Dream
1347 Words
ISABELLA'S POV;
The next morning feels strangely calm. I wake up with a lightness in my chest I haven’t felt in days. Maybe it’s because Dad and I cleared the air. Maybe it’s because I’m finally trying to grow up a little.
When I walk downstairs, he’s already at the dining table reading the newspaper. As usual.
“Good morning,” I greet softly.
He looks up with a smile, the warm kind, the one that makes me feel like his little girl again. “Good morning, sweetheart. Come, sit.”
Aunt Maria places breakfast on the table and leaves us alone. I take a seat beside him, sipping my orange juice quietly. For a second, it feels like a peaceful, simple morning.
Then Dad clears his throat.
Never a good sign.
“Isabella… your birthday is coming soon.”
I nod. “Yes, next week.”
He folds the newspaper and turns fully toward me. “So I was thinking… why don’t we throw a party? Just like always.”
A party.
Our tradition.
Mom used to plan them before… everything changed.
I blink away the sting behind my eyes and smile. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”
But Dad doesn’t smile back. Instead, he exhales, bracing himself like he’s about to drop a bomb.
“Sweetheart, I want to tell you something important.”
My heart stutters.
Please not another shock.
He continues quietly, “Kathrine and I… we want to get married as soon as possible. A simple wedding. Nothing fancy.”
My spoon freezes halfway to my lips. “How soon?”
“This Friday.”
My breath catches. “Friday? That’s… two days from now.”
He nods gently. “Yes. And on Saturday, we can have a party our wedding celebration combined with your birthday. One event. One family.”
A strange mix of emotions hits me, surprise, confusion, a pinch of sadness, but also… acceptance.
He looks so hopeful.
So sure.
So happy.
I inhale deeply and nod. “That would be a great idea.”
His entire face softens with relief. He reaches out and kisses my forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
We begin eating again, this time silently. But something keeps tugging at my mind. A small dream I’ve been hiding. Maybe today is the day to say it out loud.
“Dad?” I speak carefully.
“Yes?”
I put my fork down and gather courage. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. And… I want to become a model.”
He raises an eyebrow, surprised. “A model?”
“Yes.” I swallow hard. “I want to be seen. I want to be known. Loved. Appreciated. I want to join the acting and modeling school. I don’t want to hide behind office walls my whole life.”
He studies me for a long moment. I can’t read his expression, disapproval or pride? I have no idea.
Finally, he sighs. “Isabella… if this is truly what you want… I won’t stop you.”
My heart leaps. “Really?”
He nods slowly. “Yes. You’re talented, beautiful, and confident. You can do it. But—” He lifts a finger. “You are still responsible for your role at the office. If you want this opportunity, you must give your best at work as well. No excuses.”
I grin, feeling warmth bloom inside my chest. “Deal! I promise.”
He chuckles. “Good. Because once your training starts, things will get tough. But I believe in you.”
His words settle inside me like sunlight. For the first time in so long, I feel something pure, hope.
Maybe life is finally shifting.
Maybe I’m shifting.
Maybe this birthday… this weekend… will be the start of something new.
And I’m ready.
After breakfast, I return to my room and fall onto my bed with a soft sigh. My mind is still swirling with thoughts, Dad’s sudden wedding, my upcoming birthday, and this new dream I’ve dared to speak aloud.
Before the overthinking takes over, my phone lights up.
Mason:
“You free?”
A tiny smile tugs at my lips.
Talking to him feels easy.
Me:
“Yeah.”
Just a second later, a video call pops up. I roll my eyes but accept. His face appears on screen, hair messy, lying on his bed, looking unfairly good for someone who just woke up from a nap.
“You look tired,” I say.
“And you look like you’ve been thinking too much,” he replies instantly.
I chuckle. “Maybe I have.”
“So?” He shifts to sit properly. “Tell me. You said earlier you had something to share.”
I take a deep breath. “I… decided something about my future.”
His brows lift. “Oh? Something big?”
I nod, suddenly nervous. “I want to become a model. Maybe even act. I want to join an academy.”
For a moment he just stares at me, and I panic. “What? Is it stupid?”
But he shakes his head with a soft smile. “No. It actually… suits you.”
My heart does a flip.
“You think so?”
“I know so.” His voice is sure, confident. “You have the face, the attitude, the spark. And you’re brave enough to chase something big. That’s rare.”
No one has ever said something like that to me.
I look away shyly. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He leans closer to the camera. “But… did something happen? You seem off.”
I bite my lip. He notices everything, doesn’t he?
“It’s about my dad.”
“Yeah…” He scratches his neck awkwardly. “Linda said something yesterday about him getting married? I wasn’t sure if she was being dramatic as usual.”
I exhale deeply. “No… she was right. Dad is getting married this Friday.”
His eyes widen. “Damn. That’s soon.”
“Exactly,” I whisper. “He told me yesterday. And at first I got mad, then guilty, then confused. I don’t know what to feel. I want him to be happy but, I also feel like everything is changing too fast.”
He watches me quietly, understanding written all over his face.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Isabella… it’s okay to feel like that. Anyone would. You’re not wrong.”
My chest warms a little at his reassurance. But he must sense I’m slipping back into sadness, because suddenly his expression changes.
“Okay, enough emotional stuff.” He waves a hand dramatically. “Let me cheer you up.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How?”
He smirks. “Do you want to know what Linda said about all this?”
“Oh God.” I laugh nervously. “What did she say now?”
“She’s literally drooling over your father,” he says with a straight face.
My jaw drops. “She WHAT?!”
He nods like he’s reporting the weather. “And she said, and I quote, I am planning on removing that stepmother from my way.’”
I burst into laughter so suddenly that I choke on air. “NO SHE DIDN’T!”
“She did.” He grins proudly. “I almost died trying not to laugh.”
I wipe tears of laughter from my eyes. “Linda is insane.”
“Insanely entertaining,” he corrects.
“I swear one day she’ll get us all arrested.”
“Probably,” he nods. “But at least she’ll make the jail look fun.”
We both laugh again, and the tension inside me slowly melts away. We end up talking about everything, his upcoming race, my modeling school plans, Linda’s dangerous mouth, the worst outfits we’ve ever worn, and random things that make absolutely no sense.
Minutes turn into hours without us realizing.
Somewhere in between laughter and comfortable silence, I realize something,
Talking to Mason feels safe.
- Writer
