The rain pounded relentlessly against the windows of Alex's penthouse, a steady rhythm that matched the turmoil inside him. For days now, he had tried to push the thoughts of Isabella away, but they consumed him—her absence felt like a gaping wound, and every time he returned home to silence, the ache grew deeper.
His mind flashed to that moment he saw her laughing in the office, surrounded by others, as if she had already moved on. As if she didn't need him.
He slammed his fist against the desk in frustration. The rain couldn't drown out the noise in his head or the hollow feeling in his chest. He had tried to rationalize it—tried to convince himself that it didn't matter, that this was all part of their arrangement, but the truth was clear now. He needed her. Desperately.
Finally, he couldn't take it any longer. The isolation, the silence, the gnawing emptiness. He grabbed his coat and stormed out of the house, the rain immediately soaking through his clothes as he walked straight to Ava's apartment. He didn't care about the storm. He only cared about one thing: seeing Isabella.
---
Meanwhile, Isabella had spent the weekend with Ethan and Ava, trying her best to focus on anything but Alex. Ethan had always been a source of comfort, and Ava, as usual, was her rock. They spent their time laughing, watching movies, and reminiscing about old times, but even in the midst of all the joy, Isabella felt a hollow space in her heart. She couldn't deny it any longer—she missed Alex.
But that didn't make sense. Why do I care? she would ask herself, pushing the thought away. She had every reason to hate him, yet the more she tried to convince herself, the more her heart betrayed her.
That evening, after Ethan left, Isabella sat on the couch, feeling the weight of everything come crashing down on her. The rain outside mirrored her emotions—a storm she had been trying to suppress for too long.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Ava opened it, and there stood Alex, drenched from head to toe, water dripping from his hair and coat. He looked like he had been through hell, his eyes filled with an emotion Isabella had never seen in him before—vulnerability.
"Isabella," he said, his voice raw, almost pleading.
She stood frozen, unsure of what to do or say. Ava, sensing the gravity of the moment, quietly excused herself, leaving them alone.
"I can't do this anymore," Alex began, stepping forward but stopping a few feet from her. He looked unsure, hesitant, as though he didn't know how to approach her.
She crossed her arms, her walls instantly going up. "What do you want, Alex?"
"I..." He faltered, running a hand through his wet hair. "I don't know how to say this. I've never felt like this before. I don't even know what this feeling is."
Isabella remained silent, her heart pounding as he continued.
"You drive me insane," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't focus, I can't sleep, I can't do anything without thinking about you. I thought I could control this, control myself, but I can't."
He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers, desperate. "I don't know what love is, Isabella. I never thought it was something I could feel, but... whatever this is, it's killing me. I can't stand the thought of you being gone."
Isabella's heart raced at his confession, but she kept her expression guarded. She had heard his harsh words before, seen how cold he could be. Was this another trick? Another game?
When she didn't respond, Alex's shoulders slumped, and for the first time, he looked defeated.
"I don't deserve you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I know I don't. But I can't lose you. Not like this."
He turned to leave, the rain still pouring down outside, each drop feeling like a hammer against his already shattered heart.
But just as he reached the door, Isabella's voice cut through the silence.
"Alex," she called softly.
He stopped, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. He turned slowly, not daring to hope.
Isabella stood there, her eyes wide and filled with emotions she had been holding back for too long. She ran toward him, closing the distance between them. And then, without another word, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss that was filled with everything they had both been hiding.
It was raw, full of longing, desperation, and need. For the first time, they both let down their walls, allowing themselves to feel. The kiss wasn't out of anger or frustration; it wasn't part of their game or their arrangement. It was pure, unfiltered emotion.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as the rain continued to fall outside.
"I don't know what this is either," Isabella whispered, her voice trembling. "But I think... I think I want to find out."
Alex looked into her eyes, his heart swelling with a mix of relief and hope. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—this could be more than what he had thought. More than just a contract, more than just an arrangement.
"I won't hurt you again," he promised, his voice firm but soft. "I'll make things right."
Isabella nodded, her heart racing as she finally let herself believe that maybe they could start over.
For the first time, they both felt something they had never allowed themselves to feel before: hope.