ISABELLA
The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater and the distant chatter of nurses outside the door. A warm, golden glow from the bedside lamp bathed the space, but I still felt cold—probably from the sheer mortification coursing through my veins.
I refused to look at Christian as he guided me back to the bed, his hands firm but gentle on my arms. My legs still felt like they had no bones in them, wobbling with every step, and I hated how much I had to rely on him.
But most of all—
I hated how he had just witnessed my greatest humiliation.
I wanted to disappear.
Maybe if I wished hard enough, the ground would just swallow me whole.
Christian, however, seemed to be having the time of his life.
As soon as he settled me onto the bed, he exhaled dramatically and leaned
