Chapter 39 381
Isla
Begrudgingly, Roman drove me to my friend's house, his cheeks shining with tears, all of him looking defeated. Our breakup…it destroyed him, and in a sick way, it gave me pleasure knowing that he was suffering like me.
"Roman?” I stared straight ahead once he pulled up to the curb, every word a drop of poison.
“If you show up like that again…I'll call the cops.” My hand was on the door handle, ready to escape.
“I know you don't care about that shit, but…
I don't want to see you again. Believe me and understand me.
Don't make this harder than it already is.
We can't be together. We just can't. No matter how many ways you try to convince me. "
I was out of the car before I even said the last word.
"Isla!" He called my name, but I slammed the car door, refusing to turn around. “Isla, baby, please!” I could tell that he was out of the car, about to chase after me, so I ran—I bolted to the front door, escaping him.
Seeing Roman really threw me for a loop. I missed him terribly. I loved him, I wanted him, I wanted us. And I almost gave in. My mind shut down, all my instincts taking over, but thankfully, logic kicked in and I woke up.
No.
It was over. Over. We couldn't be together. End of story. I had to live my life.
The semester started, and I was in disbelief that I was back in school.
After such a long break, it was a struggle to get back into it.
The studying, the reading, and going to my clinical rotations were overwhelming.
I was also burning through my savings just to stay afloat, but in the second week of September, I finally received a call from the estate lawyer: probate was complete.
At the end of one particularly exhausting day, one of my new classmates caught up to me as I was beelining it out of the building. "Hey, Isla!” Sam called out. He was always so cheerful. “You wanna grab coffee? We can figure out what we’re doing next week. What’s that place you like again?”
Sam was in the same field, and we became fast friends, seeing as I knew no one.
He seemed like a nice guy. Both his parents were doctors, and he was about two years older than me.
He said he took some time in between undergrad and med school to volunteer in Africa.
He was tall and had that clean-cut all-American look—brown hair, warm smile, and that unmistakable jock energy.
It was surreal to be back in school, having classmates, and once again working on what I had to abandon. It was as if someone rewound the clock to how I used to live before Roman tore it all apart and killed my parents.
I never forgot that part. I reminded myself every day that he killed my mom and dad. And everyday...my heart swelled in love…for him.
I hadn't seen him since the library incident, a night I heavily blamed myself for. However, I did notice things; I wasn't stupid.
Either he arranged security to follow me everywhere, or it was actually him stalking me. He wasn't letting this go. It was both adorable and alarming. I couldn't believe I thought it was adorable.
Ugh. I had fucking issues.
"Oh, thanks, Sam, but I can't tonight,” I said, offering a quick smile. “I have a…thing to do. I'll catch up with you tomorrow though, okay?" I was heading to the lawyer's office, and that was priority number one.
"A thing, huh?” Sam teased, raising an eyebrow. “Alright, well, enjoy your date!" He winked playfully but didn’t move, waiting to see what I would do next.
I left him outside the building, feeling his eyes on me, that small smile lingering on his face, and it made me feel gross. The idea of any man having the audacity to look at me that way was beyond repulsive. Only Roman should have the right to rake his eyes over me.
I shoved the thought aside and refocused, moving my legs quicker to get to the lawyer’s office on time. I was a woman on a mission.
And what I found out at the lawyer’s shook me to the bottom of my very soul.
My dad wasn't a rich man. It turned out that my father was filthy rich. The chequing and savings accounts held close to six hundred thousand, but the number that was in various funds was earth-shattering. I didn’t even understand it when I saw it; the lawyer had to read it out for me.
Three hundred and eighty-one million. Three hundred...and eighty-one million dollars.
I couldn’t breathe; I thought I was having a heart attack. How could my parents possibly have had so much money? How? We lived a normal upper-middle-class family life. Where? How?! My dad had a construction company; he didn't own fucking Coca-Cola!
In the haze of what I’d just found out, Roman’s questions echoed back to me. Did you look to see how much was in those funds?
Why was that the question he asked? Did he have an idea of my father’s net worth? And how would he have that idea…unless he was telling the truth. Unless my father was dabbling in the same dirty business, linking him to Roman.
I was rich now. I could do…whatever I wanted! I didn't need to go to school. I didn't need to get a job. I could just live off the interest and enjoy my life.
But that's not who I was. I was in med school because I wanted a stable and respected career. I would live just like my parents, like regular people. But…the first thing I was going to do was buy an apartment. Not rent—buy. One that was mine. One that nobody could burn down.
I downloaded the app to search for properties and would check it out between classes. School was keeping me extremely busy, and I was thankful that I barely had any time to think. Unfortunately, every minute when I wasn’t in clinical rotation, reading, or writing…my mind floated back to him.
I thought about him constantly. Was he thinking of me too? Did he miss me to death…the way I missed him?
I’d seen him a few times on the street, quietly watching me, and every time, I broke down into tears, escaping before he could get to me. He was torturing me, but from the glimpse that I caught of him, I knew he was falling apart too.
Distraction was a task in its own right. I worked non-stop, I stayed in the library until they kicked me out, and anytime I was awake, I was reading, writing, and preparing for the next day.
Weekends were the worst. There was too much free time, so I buried myself in the task of looking for an apartment, and it was so much more challenging than I had anticipated. I was grateful that it took up a lot of my time.
Every minute distracted was a minute I wasn't suffering over our breakup.
But the apartment search turned out to be unexpectedly complicated. Not only did my first realtor ghost me—so did my second one! Didn't these people want to make money?!
Now that I had the funds, I moved out of my friend’s house into a luxurious Airbnb and dedicated every weekend to seeing places for sale.
Of course, Roman found out my address.
He showered me with gifts and love letters, each one breaking my heart even further.
He wrote such tender and loving words—he should have been a poet instead of a Bratva criminal.
I read each one and bawled, never daring to throw them out. Roman spoke of eternal love. A love that can't be broken by sins and mistakes. A love that overpowers all obstacles.
Angel,
Remember…in the quiet moments between us, I told you my feelings weren’t just love. They weren’t romance or poetry. They were eternal, something that doesn’t break, something that outlives everything else.
There is a force on this planet stronger than pain. Stronger than hate, disappointment, fear. And that’s what I feel for you.
My guilt is heavy. It colors all my actions, but baby, my love cannot be broken by my mistake. The sins I have committed cannot break our bond.
I know you don’t believe that right now and I don’t blame you. I hurt you in ways no apology could ever fix. I took something from you that can’t be returned.
But if there’s one thing in this entire fucking world that ever mattered…it’s you.
You are my truth.
And that’s the only way I can live, Angel. I need the truth. That pure, innocent, real truth. My love for you will outlive anything. Even the wreckage and damage I caused. My love for you doesn’t get buried or overshadowed by mistakes, it burns stronger.
You’re not just a woman I fell in love with. You are my destiny. You fell into my arms not by accident, not by chance. It was meant to be. All the events of my life brought me to you.
I know you think this can’t be fixed. That what I’ve done is unforgivable. But I believe in the truth. I believe the truth will find its way back.
My love doesn’t grow tired, weaker, or dull. It waits for you. The thought of never having you back breaks me down, but not my love.
And I need you to know that even if you never speak to me again, even if you damn me to a life of eternal suffering, even if you spend the rest of your life cursing my name…you will forever be it for me.
The beginning. The middle. The end.
I love you.
Roman
Jewelry, flowers, chocolates, my favorite coffee, champagne, lingerie, shoes, and random things I didn't actually care for. Roman knew I didn’t need any of it. But I guessed he thought the effort would count for something.
It all collected in a pile in the corner of my Airbnb, untouched. Except the letters. Every night before bed, I would read them and cry myself to sleep, drowning in the only comfort I had.
Weeks passed in distracted sadness, and finally, my third realtor sent me exactly what I wanted.
Life was strange; I found her accidentally.
My Airbnb had a ton of flyers coming right to the door, and hers caught my eye.
She looked normal, didn’t seem sleazy, and was a young woman like me.
I called her without any expectations, and we hit it off. She was lovely to work with.