The next morning, I woke up before Ezekiel had the chance to wake me up. I put on some light makeup and made my way to the hall room. As I descended the stairs, I spotted him sitting on the couch, sipping coffee and reading a book.
"Good morning!" I greeted him with a smile.
Ezekiel raised his brows, looking at me in mild shock. "You're ready already?"
"Of course I am," I replied, grinning. "I'm an early bird."
He chuckled, setting his book aside. "But why so early? Your class doesn't start until 10 a.m., right?"
I took a deep breath and rested my elbow on the couch, casually replying, "Yes, but I need to go somewhere first."
Ezekiel's expression shifted to curiosity.
"Where?"
I hesitated for a moment, biting my lower lip before answering, "It's a bit personal."
He nodded, looking a little sheepish as he put his coffee mug down on the table. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Personal. I shouldn't have pried."
I laughed softly, appreciating how he immediately backed off. But then he surprised me, asking, "Can I drive you there?"
I arched my brows, considering the offer. If Ezekiel took me to the hotel and saw my mom there, it could save me from having to explain everything later. Maybe it would be good for him to see the truth firsthand. My mind raced with the possibilities, and then I smiled.
"Um, yes, you can, if you want to," I replied, playing it cool.
Ezekiel grinned and stood up, stretching. "Great. Give me five minutes to get ready, and then I'll drive you wherever you need to go."
Before he could move, I called out, "By the way, where's my coffee?"
He paused, parting his lips as if to respond, but before he could say anything, I stepped forward, taking his mug from the table. I deliberately placed my lips right where his had touched, taking a slow sip. The coffee was warm and smooth, but it was the connection through that simple gesture that made my heart race a little.
I plopped down on the couch, still holding the mug in my hands, and teasingly said, "You've made my habits worse. Now, as your punishment, you'll have to make coffee for me in every morning. Or I'll just finish yours."
Ezekiel's lips curled into a playful smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Is that so?"
I held the mug up to my lips again, still smiling as I sipped. There was something about the casualness of this moment that made me realize how much I enjoyed being around him. His presence was comforting, and those little shared smiles—especially the one he gave me just now—made my heart flutter.
He shook his head lightly, still smiling, before heading toward his room to get ready. As he walked away, I couldn't help but keep my gaze locked on him, watching the easy way he moved. I felt a warmth spreading through me, and it wasn't just from the coffee.
I think I was starting to love spending time with Ezekiel.
After a while, Ezekiel and I arrived at the same hotel where I had spotted my mom the day before. As we pulled up, Ezekiel parked the car and got out, adjusting his sunglasses as he looked around. He lowered them slightly and asked with a playful tone, "Are you sure you want to come here?"
I nodded confidently.
"So, should I come with you?" he asked, still teasing.
I shook my head, "No need. I'll just go in and come back. I need to meet an old friend," I lied, hoping to end the conversation.
Ezekiel smirked, clearly not buying my story. "Wasn't it personal, Miss?" His teasing tone made me roll my eyes. Without responding, I turned and hurried into the hotel, eager to avoid more questions.
Once inside, I made my way to the receptionist. She recognized me immediately from yesterday. Smiling warmly, she asked, "Hello, how can I assist you today?"
I smiled back, trying to keep my cool. "Is Mr. Robert still staying here?"
The receptionist glanced at her screen and nodded. "Yes, ma'am, he is. However, he's not in his room at the moment."
I arched my brows, surprised. So my dad was still here. My heart raced as I processed this information.
Trying to keep my tone casual, I asked, "Oh, can you tell me if he was alone or if there was a red-haired woman with him?"
The receptionist paused for a second, thinking. "Yes, I believe he was with a red-haired woman."
I felt a pang of confirmation in my chest. Mom had definitely stayed here with Dad.
"You can wait, ma'am. He should be back anytime soon," she offered politely.
I forced a smile, though my heart wasn't in it. "Actually, I came here with some friends. They're waiting for me outside. I'll give Mr. Robert a call later."
The receptionist smiled back.
I left the hotel quickly, my mind racing, unsure of what I had just uncovered. Was my mom cheating on Ezekiel with my dad? Or was there something else going on that I couldn't yet grasp? The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Nervous that I might get caught, I barely said anything to the receptionist before making a quick exit.
When I got into the car, Ezekiel was sitting there, hands resting on the wheel, watching me closely. His gaze seemed to search for answers in my expression.
"Did you meet her?" he asked.
I looked at him, unsure of how to respond. My heart pounded. What could I even say? My mom's betrayal, or whatever this was, wasn't something I could easily explain to him. The silence stretched between us until he called my name, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Isabella!"
I blinked, shaking off the daze, and took a deep breath before responding. "Let's go somewhere," I said, trying to change the subject. "I'm starving, Mr."
Ezekiel raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Wow, you really know how to avoid a conversation," he said, starting the car.
I offered a soft smile. "It's just... I don't want to ruin my mood talking about her right now. I want to enjoy the morning with you."
He sighed, taking a U-turn to leave the hotel. "You know," he said as we drove, "I was wrong when I said you were like your mom."
I arched my brows in curiosity. "What do you mean?"
He glanced at me with a thoughtful expression. "You two may share the same features, but your personalities… they're very different. You've got a different taste in life."
I didn't know how to respond, so I stayed quiet, processing his words.
"I wish she were like you," he said, his voice softer, almost wistful.
"Then dump her and make me your girlfriend."
He laughed, hearing me.
"Did she call you this morning?" I asked, sensing Ezekiel might be missing my mom.
"Nope," he replied, his voice steady but the sadness still noticeable. "As you said, her priority is her work."
I didn't know how to comfort him, so I asked, "How long have you been dating my mom?"
"Five months, and then after one month we made it official," he answered while focusing on the road.
I arched my brows. "In one month you made up your mind to date her?"
Ezekiel smiled faintly. "I really like her. After my breakup, she helped me a lot. She was there for me when I needed someone."
"I like her honesty."
Honesty. I laughed inside my head. Honesty, my foot.
"What was the reason for your breakup?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
His tone darkened as he replied, "She was double-timing me. I hate that. I give 100 percent in a relationship, Isabella. Always have. So, I expect 100 percent back. I don't tolerate lies."
"What if my mom cheats on you? What would you do?" I asked bluntly, wanting to hear his response.
Ezekiel's expression darkened, and he didn't answer right away. The atmosphere shifted. He took his time, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, eyes fixed ahead.
Finally, he spoke in a low voice, "I don't know. That would hurt me deeply. I've been through it once, and it broke me. I don't want to think about it."
I stared out the window, my thoughts churning. Did my mom deserve someone like him? Could she really give him the honesty and loyalty he was looking for?