The days following that conversation felt like a shift in the air, subtle yet undeniable. Evan had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control, to steer his life exactly where he wanted it to go. But with Isabelle, he found himself losing some of that control. Not in a way that felt like he was unraveling, but in a way that felt... freeing.
He still had his empire to manage, still had board meetings and international operations to oversee, but his thoughts kept drifting back to her. It was as if her presence had awakened something inside him—something he hadn't realized had been dormant for years. He wanted to know more about her, wanted to understand why, after all this time, he was finally ready to confront the parts of himself he had buried.
But Isabelle was no stranger to the kind of walls Evan had built. She had her own. And despite the growing connection between them, she kept a distance. A professional distance, one that he didn't fully understand but could sense.
It was a rainy Thursday morning when he received another message from her. He had almost gotten used to the way she would reach out when something was on her mind, always clear but never too demanding.
I need to talk to you. Can we meet later today?
Evan's finger hovered over the screen for a moment before he responded.
Of course. How about 2 PM?
Her response was swift.
Perfect. See you then.
At exactly 2 PM, Evan arrived at their usual meeting spot, a small, quiet café near his office. He had always preferred this place—it was neutral ground, far away from the boardrooms and skyscrapers, where he could escape the weight of his role and just... be.
Isabelle was already there, seated at their usual table, her gaze focused on her phone. When she looked up, her eyes met his, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to pause.
"Hey," she said, her voice soft but carrying a weight he couldn't quite decipher.
"Hey," Evan replied, settling into the chair across from her. "Everything okay?"
Isabelle nodded, but there was something about her expression that told him it wasn't. Something was on her mind, something important.
"I've been thinking," she began slowly, "about what you said last time. About moving on from the past. And I realized... I haven't really done that myself."
Evan leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before speaking again. "I've spent so much of my life building walls too. Walls to protect myself from things I didn't want to face. From people I didn't want to let in. And now, here we are—talking about letting go of those walls. But I realized I haven't been fully honest with you. Not about everything."
Evan sat back, his curiosity piqued. "What's going on, Isabelle?"
She hesitated, looking down at the coffee in front of her, then meeting his gaze again. "I have a past too, Evan. And it's not one I'm proud of. It's messy, complicated. I've been running from it for years. But maybe it's time to stop running."
Evan could see the conflict in her eyes, the hesitation. He understood that fear—he had been there himself, struggling with the weight of things left unsaid.
"You don't have to tell me everything," he said softly, his voice steady. "But if you're ready to share, I'm listening."
Isabelle's lips parted slightly, as if she was about to speak, but she closed them again, lost in her thoughts. It wasn't until a few moments later that she spoke, her voice low and measured.
"I was married once," she said quietly. "It didn't end well. It was toxic, controlling. He... he wasn't the man I thought he was. And I let it go on for too long. I thought I could fix it. I thought I could change him, make things work. But in the end, it broke me."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with emotion. Evan didn't know how to respond at first. He had never seen Isabelle as someone who had been hurt—at least not in the way she was describing. To him, she had always seemed like a woman who was in control, who had everything figured out. But hearing her speak so openly about her pain shifted something inside him.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this," she continued, her voice shaking slightly now. "But I need to stop pretending that I'm fine. I need to stop hiding from it."
Evan reached across the table, his hand resting lightly over hers. The simple gesture seemed to calm her, and she looked at him with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.
"You don't have to carry it alone," he said quietly. "We all have our pasts. It doesn't define us. But it's part of who we are. And it's okay to acknowledge that."
Isabelle nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing as she took a deep breath. "Thank you, Evan. I don't know what I would've done without you today."
Evan smiled softly, feeling a connection that was different from anything he had ever felt before. They were no longer two people circling around each other, unsure of how to move forward. In this moment, they had both shared parts of themselves that they had kept hidden for so long.
For the first time in a while, Evan didn't feel alone. And though he wasn't sure what the future held for them, one thing was certain—whatever it was, he wasn't ready to walk away from it.
"I'm here," he said, his voice steady. "Whenever you need me."
Isabelle's gaze softened, and for a moment, the world outside the café disappeared. There was no business, no past—just the two of them, in this fleeting moment of honesty and connection.
And for the first time in a long time, Evan believed that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't running from the future anymore.