Page 17 of Fractured
Finally, he breaks his silence. “Just have some patience, Alexander. Remember, she’s only 23 years old. And she’s never experienced a life like we have. Definitely never had a life like you’ve had.” He laughs.
“I agree wholeheartedly, brother. Remember, she’s my wife tomorrow, no more dragging her away from me.” I wink at him.
“To wedded bliss.” I raise my glass and he touches mine with his. We both take a sip. I look over at him and say, “I guess it’s time I put my suit on. She’ll be waiting for me. I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner?”
Sebastian tilts his head in a mocking grin and says, “I wouldn’tmiss this for the world. I can’t wait to see you sweat.” I pat him on the back and head back to my room to get ready.
Nerves trickle down my spine as I take the elevator alone to meet Isabella in the sitting room. I open the door softly and find her sitting on the loveseat facing away from me looking out the window.
She is wearing an ankle-length red satin dress. It contours to her every curve, and the neckline is a low sweeping scoop that accentuates the tops of her breasts. Her hair is up in an intricate bun, exposing her soft neck.
She is stunning and the ache in my chest eases.
“Hello, bunny? Did you miss me?”
I can’t stop the smile on my face as she ever so slightly stiffens her spine. I take a step towards her and she finally looks up at me and stands.
She wears the same sullen expression on her face as the morning I last spoke to her. I lean in and kiss her cheek softly, breathing in the smell of lilies on her skin.
I pull back slightly and my chest compresses tighter with the look in her eyes. She’s looking at me like I’m a stranger, like someone she’s never met. Her eyes dart across my face, her body stiff, so close to mine. I want to ask what’s wrong, but at this moment I don’t know if I want to know.
She sidesteps around me and exits the room, leaving me standing there as she waits by the dining room entrance. I catch up to her and grab her arm, spinning her towards me.
“Are you not going to say anything? You’re not happy to see me at all?”
She just stares at me and says nothing, and my heart beats a little faster.
Finally, she takes a deep breath and whispers, “No.”
My head tilts back in shock and confusion. She’s never been so direct with me before, or so assured of her answers.
Like a corny teenager, I ask, “You’re not happy to see me at all?”
“No.” She whispers again. She turns and faces the door, dismissing me. Her words burn, causing my chest to heat and the choking sensation in my lungs is back. I stand there watching her chest rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm. Her body language is calm, and she meant every word she said.
“Then what are you exactly, Isabella?” I cannot help the resentment in my voice.
She loops her arm through mine, not looking my way at all.
“Heartbroken.” Time freezes, and I try to breathe. She looks straight ahead and says, “Smile Alexander, it’s showtime.”
Isabella pulls me along as she opens the door to the room full of people awaiting the arrival of the happy couple. She walks ahead of me, pulling my dazed body in behind her.
The room erupts into applause as we stand there. She’s smiling as if our exchange never affected her. Anger rises in my chest, replacing that constricting feeling around my lungs. I can’t believe she has the audacity to throw my words back in my face.
Finally, I wipe the confused expression off my face and replace it with a smile. I don’t comprehend this heartbreak she is talking about. I don’t understand why she would say that. She doesn’t even like me, so how could she be heartbroken?
She knew the rules going in and I explained them to her, thoroughly. This week was for her protection; it wasn’t like I was trying to be an asshole. Well, maybe I was an asshole, but I was furious. She disobeyed and ran away. For what reason? A few heated words shouted in a room?
My mother comes out of the crowd, holding her hands out to us. I wait for Isabella to grip my arm like the last time she facedour family at dinner, but her hand remains relaxed.
“There they are. The beautiful, happy couple. “
She kisses my cheek and then she kisses Isabella’s, leading us up to the head table, where I pull out Isabella’s chair and she sits down, smiling prettily at the crowd.
I take my seat beside her, and I keep looking at her in confusion. How did she transform from this stoic, despondent girl to this cheerful, smiling woman who acts as if she didn’t just tell me her heart was broken?
The excitement dies down and everyone takes their seat. I grab my glass of champagne and stand up, raise my glass in the air, and look around the crowd, I might as well make a speech now and get it over with.
