Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
ISABELLE
Coming face-to-face with my ex wasn’t part of tonight’s plan, but I refuse to let him ruin my evening.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I say, glaring at him. “Step out of the way.”
Oliver doesn’t budge. “Izzy, wait. I want to apologize for what I said at the reunion.”
A scowl forms on my face. “Forget it.”
I start walking off, but he grabs my arm to stop me. My body flinches, and I shake off his grip, exasperated he can’t take the hint that I want nothing to do with him.
“I was drunk, and I know that’s not an excuse, but I’m sorry for what I said.”
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter anymore!” I jerk my head around to face him, feeling my blood boil. “What are you even doing here? Are you stalking me?”
Oliver hesitates. “I’m in Chicago for a work conference, but I heard about Jackson’s company being nominated and figured you’d be here with him, so I, uh, searched up the hotel for your event and booked—”
“Oh my God, you are stalking me.” My skin tightens, and I shudder as if there were a colony of ants crawling on my arm.
Oliver exhales. “I wanted to apologize in person.”
Not wanting to give him any more of my time, I walk past him, continuing toward the exit.
“You know, Jackson’s only with you now because he couldn’t have you back in high school,” he calls out from behind me. “Once he’s bored with you, he’ll break up with you.”
I stop in my tracks, feeling like the air’s been sucked out of my lungs.
The audacity of him … shocking. Absolutely shocking.
“You know nothing about him or our relationship.” My jaw clenches as I turn around to face Oliver again.
“And I see what this is about now. Your pathetic ego can’t take it that I’m with Jackson, which is why now, all of a sudden, you want to talk to me.
This was never about you wanting to apologize. ”
“That’s not true,” Oliver insists. “You know what kind of person Jackson was during school and how he flirted his way through the female population.” He steps closer toward me, placing his hands inside his pockets. “I’m only looking out for you, Izzy.”
“Oh, thank you so much for looking out for me, Oliver.”
Oliver runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Look, despite what you think, I do still care about you, and I feel bad about how we ended things.”
That’s the last straw for me.
“You want to talk about the breakup?” The bitterness I’ve tried so hard to suppress all these years rises to the surface, demanding to explode like a dam about to burst, and I hate him for that. “Fine. Let’s talk about the breakup.”
My breathing erratic, I force myself to look Oliver in the eye and let out the words I buried deep inside my chest for so long.
“You dumped me over text after six years together without any reason. I texted you so many times, called you so many times, but you never responded. I went to your apartment, and you never answered the door either. Your friends told me you’d moved to San Francisco.
I spent days—no, months—replaying every interaction, conversation we’d had, trying to work out if I had done anything wrong and why I wasn’t a good enough girlfriend for you. ”
I can hear my voice rising and feel tears threatening to spill from my eyes, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“Izzy”—his voice softens—“you were good enough for me.”
What the actual hell? Is he high right now? I don’t know why he’s saying all this to me when he’s engaged.
I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”
“I wanted it to be you,” he says, solidifying my thoughts that he’s delusional. “And it could’ve been you if you’d never started your business.”
What?
I stumble backward. It’s as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over my head.
Following our breakup, I came up with a list of reasons why he’d dumped me, and I concluded the most plausible one was he’d found someone else. The reason he just told me wasn’t anywhere on my list.
“I wanted to settle down with you, but the only thing you talked about was your business,” Oliver continues.
“How was I supposed to trust that you’d prioritize our relationship and future family over your business?
Did you even know that fifty percent of small businesses fail within the first five years?
I wish you’d just listened to your mom and gone to law school instead. ”
I blink, not believing this is the same person I once cared for so deeply. Maybe there were signs I missed. Maybe he changed after we graduated high school, or maybe he was always like this, and I only saw him through rose-colored glasses the whole time.
“Well, I’m sorry for being excited about launching my business and wanting some support from my then boyfriend.” Sarcasm coats my voice. “I guess that was too big of an ask.”
“Izzy—”
“No, we’re done here, Oliver,” I interject. “Stop calling me Izzy. Please leave me alone and never contact me again. Or I’m going to get a restraining order against you.”
Two passersby walk past us, frowning as their gazes flick between Oliver and me.
“And if you don’t leave right now, I’m going to scream for help, Oliver.”
Oliver hesitates, as if contemplating whether to say something else, but ultimately walks off.
My vision blurs as I lean against the nearest wall, tears streaming down my cheeks once he’s out of sight.
I don’t have feelings for Oliver anymore, so why do his words hurt? Why does closure feel like I’m being broken up with again?
A ding reverberates as the elevator doors open, and a familiar face steps out and immediately sees me, his brows furrowed as he runs over to me and pulls me into a hug.
Jackson.
I wrap my arms around him and bury my head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.
“It’s okay, Bella,” Jackson murmurs, stroking my hair. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”
I allow myself to let out my sobs and hold on to this moment with him for as long as I can. To be the raw and unfiltered Isabelle and not the Isabelle who always uses sarcasm as a defense mechanism.
We stay fixed in that position for I don’t know how long before Jackson pulls apart from me. He cradles my face, his thumb wiping away my tears.
“What happened?” he asks, voice gentle.
I stare at him, hesitating. After what happened between us tonight … he wants me, right? Or was that all simply a spur-of-the-moment thing?
The truth is, I’m scared.
I’m scared I’m developing feelings for Jackson, that I’m falling for him, and one day, he might decide he won’t want me anymore.
Jackson isn’t the same person as Oliver, and comparing them would do Jackson a huge injustice.
Nevertheless, once upon a time, I innocently believed Oliver would be my first and only boyfriend.
We talked about our plans after graduation, all the countries we’d travel to, and even what our future wedding and honeymoon would look like.
He showered me with flowery promises, all of which I believed and held close to my heart.
Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and it all happened so quickly, suddenly. Six years of memories turned into nothing but a six-worded text from him saying, I think we should end things. And then … silence.
Now, I can hear that tiny voice in my head again—the one that likes to send my brain into overthinking mode and is warning me to keep my heart guarded.
My gaze drops to the floor. “I don’t feel like talking about it right now.”
“Okay, we won’t talk about it.” Jackson’s tone is soft. “How about I get you a cup of tea and we can cuddle together instead?”
That sounds so ideal, and I’d love nothing more than to find myself in his comforting embrace again. I want that. I really do.
But I’m scared that if I hold on to him again, I’ll never want to let go. And if Jackson ever changes his mind about me one day, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to put my broken heart back together.
I swallow. “Actually, I might go back to my room and get some rest.”
“Okay.” Jackson lowers his head slightly. I can tell he’s trying to mask the disappointment on his face, and I hate that I caused that disappointment. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”
“I’m sorry,” I quietly say.
Jackson shakes his head and musters a small smile. “Don’t be.”
I give his jacket and Amex card back to him. “Here.”
His eyes trace my face. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Once I’m inside my room, I force myself to brush my teeth and shower, my limbs feeling heavy. When I crawl into bed, I toss and turn, but sleep doesn’t come. Oliver’s words linger in my mind, taunting me.
“I wish you’d just listened to your mom and gone to law school instead.”
Would Jackson think I’m silly for pursuing my passions?
What are you talking about, Isabelle? He arranged a meeting with Liz for you.
Only because he felt sorry for you after you told him you barely sold any tickets for your fashion show.
I squeeze my eyes, trying to block out all the negative thoughts.
It’s as if there are two conflicting voices in my head—the angel and the devil, the optimist and the pessimist, the one imploring me to take a leap of faith and the one warning me to remain stagnant.
My phone dings with a new text.
Man of My Dreams
I wanted to share this in case it helps. It’s a playlist I listen to whenever I have trouble sleeping.
I open up the playlist, warmth filling my chest. Gentle, ambient piano music fills my room, calming down my thoughts.
My eyelids start to feel heavier, and eventually, I drift off to sleep.
At seven thirty a.m. the next morning, I stand near the hotel reception with my luggage. Jackson texted me that he had to head out for something and asked me to wait for him in the lobby before we checked out.
I rub my eyes, stifling a yawn. I’ve had about four hours of sleep, which isn’t ideal, but my plan is to buy a coffee at the airport.
As if on cue, Jackson strolls into the lobby, holding a paper bag in one hand. “Morning, sleepyhead.” He hands the bag to me as we meet with a tentative smile. “This is for you.”
Warmth fills my body, like drinking a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter’s day. He always knows exactly what I need.
“Thank you.” I peer at the logo on the bag. “Bianca’s Bakery?”
Bianca’s Bakery is renowned in Chicago for its pastries and desserts. I wanted to try them, but didn’t think I’d get to during this trip since we were only staying for one night.
“Take a look inside,” he says with a grin.
I peer inside the bag and see two large strawberry jam doughnuts. “You are insane. Thank you.”
“Try it.”
Grabbing a doughnut, I take a bite, enjoying the sweet flavor. “This is so good,” I say with a mouthful. “Did you get anything for yourself, too?”
“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “I’ve had coffee already.”
I frown. “But you need proper food as well, not just caffeine.” I gesture the bag to him. “You should have the other doughnut.”
“I’m okay. I’ll grab a bite at the airport later.” Jackson hesitates, as if contemplating his next words. “How are you feeling?”
“Aside from the lack of sleep, I’m feeling better,” I admit.
I mean it. Oliver ruined last night, but this morning, his words don’t hurt as much.
“I’m happy to hear that.” Jackson glances toward the elevators. “I just have to grab my luggage first, and then we can check out.”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
Ten minutes later, we’re checked out and ready to go. As we’re about to exit the hotel, a boisterous burst of laughter catches my attention. I turn to the source of the voice, seeing a group of men in business attire stepping out of the elevator and chatting among themselves.
Standing at the front of the group is Oliver.
Great. He’s everywhere now.
He looks well rested and refreshed, like he had a great night’s sleep. His fake-ass apology from last night can go into the trash can.
“What’s wrong?”
I turn to see Jackson following my gaze, a muscle in his jaw twitching when he realizes who I’ve been staring at. Without waiting for my response, he strides ahead, making a beeline toward my ex.
“Jackson,” I call out, trailing after him, but he doesn’t stop.
Oliver notices Jackson marching over to him, his eyes widening. He excuses himself from his conversation with his colleagues and meets Jackson halfway.
Jackson doesn’t hold back when he’s standing in front of Oliver. “What the fuck did I say about staying away from my girlfriend last time?”
Oh my God.
Oliver raises a brow. “Whoa, man. What happened to hello or good morning?”
“I don’t beat around the bush, Morrison.
” Jackson’s voice is low, carrying a warning tone.
“And if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I’m very protective of the people who are important to me, with my girlfriend being at the top of my list. So, if you’d prefer not to end up with a dislocated jaw, I’d advise you to keep your mouth shut and stay the fuck away from Isabelle. ”
Silence pierces through the air while my heartbeat races at Jackson’s protectiveness. This isn’t like the reunion, when we were fake dating in front of our former classmates. Jackson didn’t have to confront and threaten Oliver again just now, but he chose to.
Oliver’s jaw tightens, and he sucks in a breath. I can tell he doesn’t want to escalate the situation or be at the center of any drama in front of his colleagues.
“Everything all right, Olly?” one of Oliver’s colleagues calls out.
“Yep. All good, guys,” Oliver replies before his gaze bounces to Jackson again. He dusts off his jacket. “Noted, Carter. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Oliver doesn’t bother looking at me and brushes past me and Jackson without another word, rejoining his colleagues.
I hope I never see him again.
Jackson turns to me, the tension on his face disappearing. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm my still-pounding heart. “About what you said to Oliver …”
“I meant every word.” Jackson’s tone is firm but gentle. “There won’t be a day when I simply sit back and allow someone to hurt you.”
My chest grows tight. “Jackson,” I whisper, “everything that’s happening between us is so new, and I’m scared.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Remember what I said at the reunion before I kissed you?”
“That actions speak louder than words,” I say.
Jackson nods. “Words can hurt, too, and while I don’t know what Oliver said to you last night, I know whatever he said that’s planted a seed of doubt in your mind isn’t true.”
My breath hitches. “Jackson …”
“And I’ll be here, waiting as long as I need to, until you feel ready to take that leap of faith.”
I haven’t even told him what happened last night or what I’m scared about, but it’s as if he can see through me. All of me.
As we head outside the hotel and wait for a cab, a single question lingers in my mind.
Jackson said he’ll be there to catch me, but am I ready to take that leap of faith?