Chapter1
1046 Words
Isabel had never wanted to disappear so badly in her life.
The video played on the massive projector screen in high definition — Blake. Shirtless. Olivia. Naked. Both entangled in the sheets of a bed Isabel recognized all too well — her own.
The elegant ballroom, once bustling with laughter and clinking with champagne glasses, was now shrouded in silence, save for the loud moans echoing through the speakers.
Isabel felt her entire body stiffen when a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Her throat immediately went dry, her stomach flipped, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.
Shortly after, the whispers began — the judgement, the pity, their phones raised to record her reaction. Everything that had happened that night we as nothing like a trending topic waiting to explode.
“Isabel,” Tania grabbed Isabel's arm, jerking her from her thoughts.
Isabel's legs felt like lead as she stared wide-eyed at the projector, her bottom lip quivering.
“Isabel!” Tania called out, this time her voice was sharper and her hand dug into Isabel's arms. “We're leaving now.”
Isabel let out a soft exhale and let Tania tug her through the sea of onlookers. Paparazzi were already waiting outside, their cameras flashing around them.
“Out of the way!” Tania called aloud, guding Isabel to the sleek black car, and pushing her in the backseat before jumping into the driver's seat.
Once the doors were shut, Tania turned to Isabel. “Isabel…”
Isabel didn't respond. She stared blankly at her lap, unmoving or even uttering a sound.
“Isabel…” Tania called again softly. “Babe, come on, look at me. Are you okay?”
Suddenly, Isabel let out a bitter laugh startling Tania. “Oh, I'm fine. My long-term boyfriend hooked with my so-called best friend and now the entire city just got a front row seat to it so yeah, I'm feeling very okay. What a nice birthday gift.”
Tania heaved a sigh. “Don't worry about that asshole. He doesn't deserve you. Never did. Don't you dare cry from him.”
“I'm not,” Isabel's voice wobbled, but she swallowed it down. “I'm not crying for him. I never will.”
Isabel nodded. Tania was right. Blake didn't deserve any of tears. Not after what he had done.
She straightened her spine and cleared her throat. “Can you drop me at his house? I'll grab my things and book a hotel for the night.”
Tania side-eyed her. “Are you sure you wanna do that alone? I can come with you if you —”
“I need to do this alone, Tania.” Isabel said, making her point perfectly clear.
Tania opened her mouth to speak but gave up when she saw the determined look on Isabel's face. “Fine.” She clenched the steering. “But text me as soon as you get there. Okay?”
“Okay.”
After Tania dropped her off at Blake's house, Isabel stepped into their bedroom. No, not theirs, his. It had never been theirs because if it had, he wouldn't have slept with Olivia in their bed.
Isabel felt the burn of that betrayal but underneath that was a rage that summered quietly.
She stared at the already made bed and her eyes began to fill. She told herself she would not break and tore her gaze from the gaze, remembering why she was there in the first place.
She shoved her clothes into her suitcase, yanked all her designer dresses off their hangers and all her undies from their drawers and stuffed them into the suitcase.
When she was done packing and ready to leave, she took one last glance around the room and heaved a sigh, swearing to never go back there again.
She hired an Uber and had a driver take her to a hotel. While in the car, she kept her gaze fixed on the city lights blurring past the window, her fingers curled into fists as she tried to ignore the buzzing on her lap.
The driver occasionally threw glances at her through the rear view mirror as if to tell her to pick up the damn phone. She ignored him too.
The buzzing became unbearable and she looked down at the caller Id. It was Tania. Isabel turned off her phone, not ready to talk, not when every breath felt like swallowing glass.
The car halted to a stop in front of The Monarch Hotel. Isabel paid the driver, stepped out, and dragged her suitcase towards the grand exterior glowing under the streetlights.
All she wanted was to a bed to lie on and a glass of whiskey to cry over. It was as bad as it sounds but to Isabel, it was comforting and tranquil. However, the moment she stepped inside the hotel, the very air shifted.
Conversations paused, stares averted and landed on her, piercing her skin with unspoken words while others, who thought their opinions mattered, voiced out their concerns.
“Isn't that Blake Zelinski's girlfriend?”
“Poor thing. Her boyfriend cheated on her with her bestfriend.”
Laughters echoed and the whispering murmurs and Isabel told her alef that if she didn't stop it, it would only get worse.
But how? How could she stop a hundred judging eyes from looking at her and lips from whispering ill things to her.
Her fingers tightened around her credit card so hard the sharp edge sliced into her finger. She welcomed the sting. It was nothing compared to the pain curling around her ribs, suffocating her.
And just as she predicted, the whispers got worse and she couldn't take it anymore.
She was about to snap, to tell them all to go to hell when suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice cut through the crowd.
“That's enough.”
The voice was deep, commanding and laced with an authority that left no room for argument. And as though remote controlled, the crowd scattered and the whispers died.
Isabel turned around slowly, her breath dying in her throat as she beheld the owner of the voice.
No wonder his voice sounded familiar,’ she thought.
She knew who he was — Luca Zelinski, Blake's father.
- Writer
