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1016 Words
The corner of the ballroom where Sebastian led Isabelle was quieter, but not entirely private. They were tucked near a set of arched windows overlooking the glittering Manhattan skyline. The city lights twinkled like stars against the inky night, a backdrop of stark contrast to the tension crackling between them.
Sebastian turned to face her, his expression unreadable. Isabelle held her ground, keeping her gaze locked on his. If he thought she’d crumble under his scrutiny, he was sorely mistaken.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Sebastian said finally, his voice as smooth as velvet.
“I wasn’t sure I should,” Isabelle replied, folding her arms across her chest.
He studied her for a moment, his gray eyes narrowing slightly. “And yet, here you are.”
She shrugged. “Curiosity got the better of me.”
A faint smirk curved his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You always did hate unanswered questions.”
Isabelle felt a flicker of irritation at the familiarity in his tone. He had no right to speak to her as if the years between them hadn’t existed, as if he hadn’t destroyed her life and walked away without a second thought.
“You invited me, Sebastian,” she said, her voice cool. “So why don’t you tell me why I’m here?”
He hesitated, his gaze flickering over her face as if searching for something. “Do I need a reason to want to see you?”
“Yes,” she said bluntly. “You do.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, Isabelle thought he might deflect. But then he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he admitted.
Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “After all these years? That seems… unlikely.”
“It’s the truth,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.
Her eyes narrowed. “You expect me to believe that? After everything you put me through, you suddenly care about how I’m doing?”
His gaze softened, and for the first time that evening, she saw a glimmer of something genuine in his eyes. Regret.
“Isabelle, I—”
“Don’t,” she cut him off, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “You don’t get to play the concerned ex-husband now. Not after what you did.”
Sebastian flinched, and for a fleeting moment, Isabelle felt a pang of satisfaction. But it was quickly overshadowed by the flood of memories his presence had unleashed.
The betrayal. The heartbreak. The nights she had spent crying herself to sleep, wondering what she had done to deserve the way he had discarded her like she meant nothing.
“I made mistakes,” Sebastian said, his voice low. “I’m not proud of how things ended between us.”
“Ended?” Isabelle repeated, her voice sharp. “You mean how you blindsided me with a divorce and then kicked me out of my own home? That wasn’t just a mistake, Sebastian. That was cruelty.”
He winced, but he didn’t look away. “You’re right. I was cruel. I didn’t handle things the way I should have, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”
Isabelle laughed bitterly, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife. “Regret? That’s rich coming from you. Do you even know what it’s like to live with regret? To wonder if you’ll ever be enough?”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she hated herself for letting him see how much he had hurt her. But the wounds he had left ran deep, and no matter how much time had passed, they still ached.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said softly, his gaze earnest.
Isabelle shook her head, refusing to let his apology sway her. “Sorry doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t erase the pain you caused.”
He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I know it doesn’t. But I’m trying, Isabelle. I’m trying to make things right.”
She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. For a moment, she saw a flicker of the man she had fallen in love with—the man who had once made her feel like the center of his world.
But that man was gone, replaced by the one who had broken her heart.
“I don’t need you to make things right,” she said, her voice steady. “I’ve built a life for myself without you. A good life. And I won’t let you ruin it.”
Sebastian’s expression darkened, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “Isabelle, I’m not here to ruin anything. I just—”
“Enough,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “Whatever it is you think you’re doing, just stop. I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need your help.”
She turned on her heel, her gown sweeping behind her as she walked away. Her heart was racing, her hands trembling, but she didn’t look back.
Sebastian didn’t follow her.
A Turning Point
Isabelle spent the rest of the evening avoiding Sebastian, but his presence lingered in the back of her mind like a shadow. She knew he was watching her—she could feel the weight of his gaze from across the room.
But she refused to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it.
As the night wore on, Isabelle found herself talking to a group of women who ran a nonprofit for single mothers. Their stories resonated with her, and for a brief moment, she felt a sense of camaraderie that eased the tension in her chest.
But as she left the gala later that night, her thoughts returned to Sebastian. His words echoed in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.
Whatever his true intentions were, she would uncover them. And she would make sure that he never had the chance to hurt her—or her children—again.
- Writer
