Chapter 10: Unraveling Secrets
1171 Words
Isla sat on the balcony, wrapped in the thin white sheet from the bed. The morning air was cool, carrying with it the scent of rain. She gazed out at the skyline, her eyes unfocused, her thoughts far away.
The weight of last night clung to her skin, seeping into her bones.
She should have felt guilt—shame, even. But she didn’t.
All she could feel was the lingering warmth of Alexander’s touch on her skin. The memory of his lips against hers, of the way he had looked at her—like she was his only salvation—still sent a shiver down her spine.
But the morning light made everything real again.
Last night was raw. Passionate. But it didn’t change the fact that their relationship was built on fragile ground.
A part of her wanted to believe they could exist in this bubble—just the two of them, away from the world. But reality had a way of crashing in.
And she knew the consequences were coming.
She tightened the sheet around her body, her eyes drifting toward the bed where Alexander still slept.
His bare chest rose and fell steadily, his features relaxed in the soft glow of the morning. Strands of his dark hair fell over his forehead, and for a moment, he looked almost peaceful. Vulnerable, even.
But she knew better.
Beneath the facade of tenderness was a man who had built walls so high, no one could reach him.
And yet, somehow, she had slipped through the cracks.
Her eyes softened as she watched him, committing the image of him to memory—because she wasn’t sure how long she could hold on to him before everything slipped away.
---
An hour later.
Isla stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, her arms crossed over her chest, wearing nothing but Alexander’s dress shirt. She stared at her reflection, the hazy morning light casting a soft glow on her skin.
She could feel his gaze on her.
When she turned around, she found him sitting up in bed, the sheet barely covering his waist. His eyes were heavy with intensity, piercing through her.
Without saying a word, he beckoned her closer.
She hesitated.
There was something different in his eyes this morning—something she couldn’t quite place.
She slowly walked over, but before she could sit beside him, he reached out and pulled her onto his lap, his hands possessively gripping her waist.
His eyes roamed over her face, searching.
“You’re thinking too much,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t deny it.
She lowered her gaze, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw.
“Last night...” she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He silenced her with a kiss.
Slow. Gentle. But firm.
When he pulled back, he brushed his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes darkening slightly.
“I don’t want to talk about last night.” His voice was rough, almost pleading. “I just want to be here. With you.”
Her heart clenched.
Because she knew he was asking for more time—time they didn’t have.
So she kissed him. Slowly. Longingly. As though she could hold on to the fleeting moment just a little longer.
---
Later that afternoon.
Isla stood in front of her closet, slipping into a simple black dress. She smoothed the fabric down, her fingers trembling slightly.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Alexander buttoning his shirt. His expression was tense, his movements stiff.
He was quiet. Too quiet.
And she knew why.
The spell of the morning had been broken. Reality was knocking at the door.
She turned to face him, her eyes searching his.
“You’re leaving soon,” she whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.
His jaw tightened. “I have a meeting.”
Her heart sank.
Of course. A meeting. Business.
She swallowed the knot rising in her throat and gave a small, forced smile.
“Right,” she murmured, turning away from him, hugging her arms around herself.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, she felt his arms wrap around her from behind. His breath was warm against her neck, and she shivered slightly at the feel of his lips brushing against her skin.
“I don’t want to leave,” he murmured softly.
Her eyes burned, but she forced herself to keep her voice steady.
“But you have to,” she whispered.
He turned her around, cupping her face with both hands. His eyes locked onto hers, holding her gaze.
“Tell me not to,” he rasped. His voice was raw—desperate. “And I’ll stay.”
Her chest tightened.
It would have been so easy to say the words—to ask him to stay, to make him hers.
But she couldn’t.
Because she knew the world he belonged to—the world she didn’t.
And holding on to him would only destroy them both.
So, she offered him a sad smile.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
His eyes darkened, the muscle in his jaw clenching.
He pressed his forehead against hers, his hands trembling slightly against her skin.
“I don’t care about them, Isla,” he ground out. “I only care about you.”
Her breath caught.
But before she could respond, her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Her eyes flickered toward it, but Alexander’s grip tightened.
“Don’t,” he rasped, his voice low. “Don’t answer it.”
But her eyes had already caught the name flashing across the screen.
Elliot.
Her throat tightened painfully.
She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting Alexander’s.
And she saw it—the flicker of jealousy. Of pain.
He stared at her for a long moment before slowly letting her go.
Without saying a word, he turned away from her and grabbed his jacket, slipping it on.
The distance between them suddenly felt unbearable.
When he reached the door, he paused, his hand on the knob. He glanced back at her, his eyes dark and heavy.
His voice was low, barely above a breath.
“Do you still love him?”
Her breath caught in her throat.
She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.
Because she didn’t love Elliot. She loved him.
But she couldn’t say it.
Not yet.
So she remained silent, her hands trembling at her sides.
Alexander’s eyes hardened slightly.
Without another word, he turned and walked out the door.
And as the door clicked shut behind him, Isla felt the weight of her silence crushing her chest.
She leaned against the wall, clenching her fists, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
Because the longer she kept the truth from him, the further away he drifted.
And she was terrified that by the time she finally found the courage to say it—he would be gone.
- Writer
