Betrayed by love

Isabella's POV The kiss of the stranger had lost its touch on my skin, but the flames still burned in between me and that guilt. A line crossed that I never thought I would, and it felt like an echo of the betrayal I had suffered through. Adrian destroyed our vows, and last night I destroyed everything else. This morning, though, my decision was clear and unchangeable. I walked up into my lawyer's office with my neck held high, although there was queasiness inside. "I want a divorce," I said earlier than he could even greet me. He set down his pen and sized me up carefully. "Mrs. Cole-" "Isabella," I snapped. "Just Isabella. Don't call me by his name again." He furrowed his brow but nodded. "Isabella, divorce from Adrian will be messy. His team will fight tooth and nail to protect his reputation. Are you ready for that?" "I don't care what they fight for. I'm not staying in this sham another second. Draft the papers." He hesitated. "Do you want to discuss settlements,

Isabella's POV Many times have I signed my name at the bottom of the fading words of parchment, where it evidently mattered very little: Divorce signed and put away. Adrian and I were no longer husband and wife, merely two people signing on the opposite sides of a contract. The dizzying lightness; the world must have changed since I was last on it, with the staccato clicks of my stiletto heels echoing off the marble floor to my ears like some enfeebled whispering, too loud, too sharp, cutting through the manic ring of thought. And so I passed through the glass doors and into the late afternoon sun, the last thing I remembered before going black was having my head in my hands. Nothing in this world mattered when it came to the ambience of the town: the soft drone of taxi engines interspersed by the whiff of peanuts roasted by the vendor. I should have normally ignored it, but today it felt like poison. The smell clawed back down my throat; my stomach started twisting brutally, as

Isabella's Pov I did my best to clean up the apartment, but it was a mess. Clothes were folded, dishes soaked, papers put away, but it all felt,disturbed. I was a ghost in my own house, picking up a loose sock, and throwing it into the laundry basket, fluffing a pillow on the couch. It took a physical weight to get my hands busy and my mind racing, but the quiet continued to press in.My phone rudely surprised me with the buzzing noise. I looked at it, and I thought that Victor would call again, but it was my mother. I wavered, thumb hovering. I wasn’t ready to talk, not yet. I let it go to voicemail.Then, quite unexpectedly, the door was knocked at. Sharp, polite, persistent. I stood still with a jumping heart.“Mom?” I called softly“Isabella, it’s Eleanor,” came her familiar voice. There was some relief and surprise when I opened the door." I happened to be in the neighborhood, and I believed I would come over,possibly assist a little in the organization. You looked as though

Isabella's Pov My heart clenched at the knock at the door. I did not anticipate any one, and the sound was too loud in the silence of my apartment. My stomach twisted. I drew a deep breath, and I laid one hand on my abdomen, like it would make the storm within me calm down. “Isabella?” The voice of Victor was calm, polite, though there was a note of insistence in it. I was hesitant about unlocking the door. As it swung open he was there,tall, serene, gray eyes which looked me through as though evaluating every trembling of my pose. " I only wanted to see how you were doing". He said "I wanted to be sure you were alright". “Why?” I inquired sharply, and stepped aside. " Is it now that you are stalking me, or is it a kind thing you are practicing?" His hands were held up in peace. " No,I came because I care, And because, I am concerned". I crossed my arms, and maintained the distance between us. “Concerned, huh? You care? After everything?” I was trembl