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1252 Words
The train screeched to a halt, jolting Isabelle Bennett from her thoughts. She clutched her worn duffle bag tighter, glancing out the window at the unfamiliar small-town station. A thin veil of mist hung in the air, softening the sharp lines of the platform and lending the scene an ethereal quality. It was nothing like the sleek, bustling city she’d left behind.
The conductor announced the stop with a crackling voice over the speaker, and Isabelle rose slowly, adjusting her scarf to cover the faint swell of her stomach. The fabric of her coat brushed against her trembling hands as she stepped onto the platform, her breath misting in the cool morning air.
Oakridge wasn’t Manhattan, but that was exactly what she needed. The quaint little town felt like another world, a place where she could disappear, start over, and raise her child far from the shadows of the life she’d left behind.
“Ma’am, you need help with that?” The voice startled Isabelle, and she turned to see a middle-aged porter gesturing at her bag.
“Thank you, but I’ve got it,” she replied, forcing a polite smile as she hefted the bag over her shoulder. It wasn’t heavy, not physically—but emotionally, it carried the weight of her entire life, condensed into one weathered canvas.
Outside the station, she hailed a cab, her grip tightening on the crumpled piece of paper with her new address scrawled across it. The driver, a kind-faced older man with salt-and-pepper hair, glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
“First time in Oakridge?” he asked as he started the car.
“Yes,” Isabelle replied, her voice softer than she intended. “I’ve heard good things about the town.”
He chuckled. “It’s quiet, that’s for sure. But the people are friendly, and there’s beauty in the simplicity. You’ll find peace here.”
Peace. It sounded like a distant dream, but Isabelle clung to the possibility. She watched as the streets unfolded before her—lined with brick storefronts, flower boxes, and the occasional group of children playing outside a bakery. The ache in her chest eased slightly.
The cab stopped in front of a small cottage with peeling white paint and a creaky porch. Isabelle paid the driver and stepped out, staring at the house that would be her new home. It wasn’t much—certainly not the luxury she’d once known—but it was hers.
As she unlocked the door and stepped inside, the emptiness of the space enveloped her. Dust motes floated in the slanted sunlight, and the faint smell of mildew lingered in the air. Isabelle placed her bag on the scuffed wooden floor, her fingers tracing the edges of the keys in her hand.
“You can do this,” she whispered to herself.
The first few weeks in Oakridge were a blur of exhaustion and determination. Isabelle threw herself into transforming the little cottage, scrubbing away years of neglect and painting the walls with soft, warm hues. Each evening, she collapsed onto the thrift-store couch she’d found online, her body aching but her spirit a little lighter.
She found a part-time job at a local bookstore, run by Ruth—a no-nonsense yet warmhearted woman who quickly took a liking to her. The store became a sanctuary, its walls lined with stories that offered escape and comfort. Isabelle kept to herself, her interactions polite but distant. She couldn’t risk forming connections.
Yet, despite her best efforts, Oakridge’s charm began to seep into her guarded heart. The neighbors smiled at her in passing; the barista at the coffee shop learned her name. The simplicity of life here was soothing, and for the first time in months, Isabelle began to imagine a future.
But the nights were a different story.
Alone in the quiet of the cottage, the weight of her choices pressed down on her. Memories of Sebastian haunted her—his rare smiles, the way his touch had once made her feel cherished. She hated how much she missed him, even after all he had done.
One particularly restless night, Isabelle sat at the kitchen table, her hands cradling a mug of tea. Her mind drifted to the tiny life growing inside her—no, lives. She placed a hand on her belly, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips.
“I’ll be everything you need,” she whispered, her voice steady. “I promise.”
Months turned into years, and Isabelle found strength she didn’t know she possessed.
The birth of Elliott and Amelia was both the most terrifying and joyous moment of her life. She had driven herself to the hospital in the dead of night, clutching her belly through waves of pain. Hours later, their cries filled the delivery room, and Isabelle knew she would never feel alone again.
Elliott was the quieter of the two, his dark hair and serious eyes a reflection of his father. Amelia, on the other hand, was a firecracker—always curious, always smiling. They became her world, her reason to keep going on the hardest days.
Isabelle balanced motherhood with building a small business from her kitchen table, crafting handmade toys that quickly gained popularity online. Orders poured in, and with them came a sense of accomplishment.
By the twins’ third birthday, Isabelle had carved out a life she was proud of. She was no longer the fragile woman Sebastian had left behind. She was strong, resilient, and fiercely protective of her children.
The birthday party was a modest affair—a small gathering of friends from Oakridge and a homemade cake that Amelia had insisted on decorating herself. As Isabelle watched her children blow out their candles, her heart swelled with gratitude.
But fate wasn’t done with her yet.
The Catalyst
A week later, the mail arrived—a stack of envelopes Isabelle sifted through absently. She paused when she saw the gilded invitation, her name written in elegant script. Her pulse quickened as she opened it, her breath catching at the sight of the words.
Hale Industries Charity Gala.
The paper trembled in her hands as she read the details. The event was to be held at one of Manhattan’s most luxurious venues. And at the bottom, in bold lettering, was a single name: Sebastian Hale.
Isabelle’s stomach churned as a storm of emotions rose within her. She hadn’t seen or heard from Sebastian in four years. He hadn’t come looking for her, hadn’t cared to know what had become of the woman he’d left behind. And now, here he was, invading her carefully constructed life with nothing more than an invitation.
Her mind raced with questions. Had he sent this deliberately? Did he know where she was?
“Mama?” Elliott’s small voice broke through her thoughts. She turned to see him standing in the doorway, clutching his favorite stuffed bear. Amelia peeked out from behind him, her wavy hair tousled from her nap.
Isabelle’s heart clenched as she looked at her children—their bright eyes so full of innocence. She knelt, pulling them into her arms as tears pricked her eyes.
“No one will take you from me,” she whispered fiercely.
The past she had tried so hard to escape was clawing its way back. And Isabelle knew one thing for certain: if Sebastian Hale thought he could walk back into her life and take control, he was sorely mistaken.
This time, she would fight.
- Writer
