CHAPTER THREE
743 Words
Isabelle sat at the window of her late mother's little apartment every morning and every night since she had moved in.
She had not stepped out of the apartment for two weeks since she walked in either. She had accepted that her marriage was over, but it felt so wrong.
She cried at the thought of every promise that Lucas had made to her. At the thought of his vows to her on their wedding day, "I choose you today and always. I promise to love you fiercely and till eternity. I promise that in me, you have a friend, a family, and a home. I vow to always be there with you and for you till we are both frail and grey."
How could he say all that and mean none of it? How could he promise me forever and give up in only thirteen years. how could he choose to break everything we've built instead of fixing it? fixing us?
Isabelle cried her eyes out because she knew that was all she could do, and that was the only thing that made her heart hurt a little less.
Her phone vibrated, causing her to break her long gaze out her window and into the streets filled with busy people.
Part of her hoped it would be Lucas reaching out, checking in on her, or even calling to ask her to go back home, but a larger part of her knew that was a hope far from reality.
She still stood up from the window where she had been sitting and headed to the couch where she had left her phone. She picked it up and sighed loudly even before she checked to see who had contacted her.
Her hope rolled away, and disappointment flowed in at the sight of her screen. "It's just a dumb reminder!" She said to herself.
A reminder she had set after the call with Lucas's lawyer had popped up on her screen, reminding her that she had two days till her meeting.
Isabelle walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine. She quickly opened it and gulped it. She hoped it would wash away the lump in her throat and the pain in her heart.
Thirty-six hours had gone by, but Isabelle still felt the same. She still had the lump in her throat, the knot in her stomach, and the pain in her heart was still there.
Her phone vibrated, and like she had since she moved out of Lucas's house, she hoped it was Lucas. Isabelle hoped it would be him. She wanted it to be him.
She grabbed her phone off the nightstand. "It's him!" Isabelle's heart skipped a beat. She quickly swiped up to read the text she had just received, and her heart sank at the sight of it.
"Be Early," it read.
"Damn, Lucas! Be early!?" She threw her phone on the bed and watched it bounce twice before it bounced off her bed to the floor.
She stood in front of the mirror but somehow couldn't see herself. She thought of how they had spent every day of the last sixteen years, and now he hadn't made any contact with her since the morning he threw her out of his house, their house.
She missed him. She knew he had hurt her badly, but for some reason, she needed him to heal her, to hold her as she cried, to tell her that everything would be okay eventually.
Isabelle snapped out of her head. She looked at what looked like her reflection in the mirror. "Do I look that old?" She wondered as she traced every inch of her face while standing close to the mirror.
"Should I wear something else?"
"Lucas said he didn't appreciate me showing skin." She wore thick pantyhose, a waist-high skirt that almost touched her ankles, low heel pumps, a long-sleeved top, and a cardigan sweater to seal it all up.
She twirled in front of the mirror as she whispered to herself, "Lucas will love this outfit."
"He loves these pumps and this cardigan."
She smiled as she picked up her phone from the floor and her purse. She took two deep breaths as she walked out of her bedroom and into the living room.
Part of her was happy she would be seeing Lucas, while part of her had her fingers crossed for a miracle. A not getting divorced miracle.
- Writer
