Isabella settled into Ava's home with a sense of relief, though her heart felt heavy. It wasn't the grand penthouse she shared with Alex, but it was peaceful, and Ava had made it clear she could stay as long as she wanted.
The night Isabella had left still played in her mind, replaying Alex's harsh words over and over. She had told Ava everything—about Sophie's visit, her confrontation with Alex, and how he had insulted her when she dared question him. Ava had listened patiently, offering quiet support and reassurance, but even she could see that Isabella's pain ran deeper than she was willing to admit.
"You don't have to go back," Ava said softly one evening as they shared tea. "Stay here, Isabella. You deserve better than the way he's treated you."
Isabella smiled sadly. "I know, Ava. But it's complicated. I made a choice when I married him, and... I don't even know if I regret it. Not anymore. I just—" She paused, unsure of how to explain the mess of emotions inside her.
Ava reached over and squeezed her hand. "You don't have to decide anything right now. Take your time."
Isabella nodded, grateful for her friend's understanding. But deep down, she knew it wasn't that simple. Her life was tied to Alex's in ways that she hadn't anticipated, and walking away—truly walking away—felt impossible.
---
Days passed, and Isabella threw herself into work. Each morning, she arrived at Alex's office building, going through the motions of her job with meticulous precision, keeping her head down and staying as far away from him as possible. She spoke only when necessary, keeping everything professional. No more arguments, no more heated exchanges. She stayed in her lane, detached, and distant.
Alex noticed the change immediately. She no longer looked at him. She did everything he asked without a word, avoiding even the slightest glance in his direction. He should have been relieved—after all, this was the peace and control he had always wanted. But instead, the silence gnawed at him.
The office felt empty without her presence.
One afternoon, while walking past her office, Alex overheard Isabella speaking to her colleagues. Her laughter echoed softly through the door, and for a moment, he stood frozen in place. His heart twisted unexpectedly as he peeked inside. Isabella was smiling—really smiling. Her face, usually so tense and guarded around him, had softened. She looked... happy.
It hit him like a punch to the gut.
For the first time, Alex saw her as she was, without the weight of their toxic relationship. She was radiant—her smile lit up the room, her laugh was musical. Her beauty had always been undeniable, but now, as she joked with her colleagues, he realized just how much of her warmth and vibrancy he had missed.
She's beautiful, he thought to himself, his chest tightening. Her happiness was like a rare glimpse of sunshine in his otherwise cold, controlled world.
And yet, it wasn't for him. He had taken her light and crushed it beneath his indifference, his cruelty. Now, she shared it with others, while he stood on the outside, watching.
---
That evening, Alex sat in his office, restless and frustrated. He couldn't concentrate on the numbers in front of him, nor could he shake the image of Isabella smiling—something he had rarely seen. He wanted that smile directed at him, even if it wasn't full of warmth. Even if it was anger or frustration. Anything was better than this silence.
He ran a hand through his hair, the silence in the room suffocating. He thought of going to her office, confronting her, demanding that she look at him again, but something stopped him. He knew he had no right.
Instead, he stared at the empty chair across from his desk and imagined her sitting there, her eyes blazing with the fire she had once shown him. But now, that fire had dimmed around him, and he couldn't stand it.
How did it come to this? he wondered, feeling an unfamiliar ache settle in his chest. He had never believed in love, had never considered it something he needed. But this—this strange longing for her presence, her smile, her defiance—it unsettled him. He wanted more than loyalty from her now. He wanted... something deeper. Something he couldn't quite name.
But he wasn't sure if it was too late.
---
Isabella, meanwhile, struggled to keep her emotions in check. She told herself every day that she didn't care. That she was free now, living her own life outside of Alex's control. But every night, when she returned to Ava's apartment, her thoughts drifted back to him. She hated that he still had such a hold on her, even from a distance.
It's just a game, she reminded herself each time. A business arrangement. Nothing more.
But the truth was, she missed him in ways she didn't understand. She missed his presence, even though it had often brought her pain. She missed their arguments, the fire in his eyes when he was angry. She missed the tension that had always existed between them, even if it was born out of conflict.
More than anything, she missed the idea of what they could have been if things had been different.
But she knew better than to hope for that now.