Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
JACKSON
It’s been a little over three weeks since Isabelle and I officially started dating, and it’s been the best three-plus weeks of my life—planned dates around the city, quiet nights in, wholesome moments, and more.
Most days, I still can’t believe I get to call her my girlfriend.
Like right now, as we’re grocery shopping. My mom’s visiting New York tomorrow, and Isabelle and I are hosting dinner for Mom and Lucy’s family. We’re going to handmake pizza, even though neither of us has attempted before.
We reach the wooden produce table, and I pick up a fresh-looking eggplant, holding it up for Isabelle. “What do you say we make some eggplant pizza? I saw a recipe the other day that looked promising.”
Isabelle taps her chin, like she’s considering it. “My vote goes to pepperoni pizza.”
“Come on. We can make both,” I say. “Justice for the eggplant.”
She sighs. “All right.”
With a grin, I grab two more eggplants and toss them inside the shopping cart. Isabelle pushes the cart and walks ahead, giving me the perfect opportunity to admire her figure from behind.
The fluorescent lights cast a glow on her, and even in a simple yellow top and jeans, she’s mesmerizing. Honestly, she could be wearing a potato sack, and she’d still be the most stunning woman in my eyes.
“I’m excited about making pizza for the first time tomorrow.” Isabelle’s voice slices through my thoughts as she stops to inspect a few onions.
“As long as you don’t risk burning down my kitchen again, everything will be good.” I’m unable to resist the urge to tease her.
Isabelle turns around, giving me a scowl, and I bite down the urge to laugh. She’s cute when she gets annoyed like that. Even now that we’re officially dating, I still love deliberately riling her.
“Next time I’m baking or cooking, don’t wear gray sweatpants.”
A few days ago, Isabelle was baking a cake when she spotted me wearing gray sweatpants for the first time, after I’d just come out of the shower.
I swear she immediately started looking at me like I was the cake.
Long story short, we ended up in my bedroom, occupied, until the smoke alarm went off.
We raced to the kitchen, only to discover a badly burned cake in the oven.
Who knew that a pair of gray sweatpants would be capable of causing a kitchen disaster?
I flash Isabelle a cocky grin. “Duly noted.”
A teenage girl walks up to us—specifically, Isabelle. “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but are you Isabelle?”
“Hi!” Isabelle greets. “Yeah, I am.”
“I read your Sparkes Magazine interview,” the girl says, beaming. “It was so cool. I bought a dress from your website, too.”
After Isabelle’s interview was published, she gained over four thousand followers—and counting—on her social media accounts, which led to increased sales for her business and fashion show.
She still can’t believe what’s happening, but I’m not surprised. I know my girl can achieve anything she puts her mind to, and it’s only a matter of time before the whole world sees her talent.
Isabelle’s face lights up with joy, and warmth thunders in my chest at her reaction. I love seeing her happy more than anything. “Thank you so much for your support.”
“You’re welcome!”
As the girl heads off, I give Isabelle another smile, lacing my fingers with hers. “I’m so proud of you, Bella.”
The smile she gives me back is everything.
When I open my apartment door on Saturday evening, Mom’s wearing a casual T-shirt and jeans, her luggage behind her.
“Hi, honey!” she chirps, pulling me into a hug. She smells like the same citrus perfume I remember that she always wears.
“Hey, Mom.” I offered to pick her up at the airport, but she told me to save the hassle. “How was your flight?”
“It was great!”
When we pull apart, I lead Mom inside my apartment and grab her a gift bag in the living room, which has some spa vouchers and a box of her favorite dark chocolate.
“This is for you,” I say. “A reminder that I’m your favorite son. Or only son. Same thing.”
“Aw, thank you, honey.” Taking the gift, she squeezes my cheek. “You look happy.”
I grin. “I’m happy to see you, Mom.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
My face softens. “I am happy.”
“Any chance this has something to do with getting into a relationship?”
“I think you might be onto something here.”
A laugh spills from her mouth. “Well, I’m looking forward to meeting Isabelle in person.”
Her words bring a warm and fuzzy feeling to my chest. Isabelle’s obviously met my mom over FaceTime already and Lucy as well in person—and most definitely Anna—but I’m still excited to have us all together.
“She is, too,” I say. “She’s just inside the bathroom at the moment.”
As if on cue, footsteps resound as Isabelle walks down the hallway to where Mom and I are standing. She smiles warmly at my mother. “Hi, Suzie. It’s lovely to meet you in person.”
Mom pulls her into a hug. “Likewise, dear.”
Shortly after, Lucy, Victor, and Anna arrive too. I say hello and hug my sister and brother-in-law first before Isabelle greets them.
Anna, who’s trailing behind her parents, flashes me a toothy smile. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail with the purple scrunchie we bought from Isabelle’s booth at the market. That day feels like ages ago now, and so much has happened since then—though in the best way possible.
“Uncle Jace, I missed you!”
“I missed you, too, kiddo.” I squat and open my arms for a hug. “You’ve gotten taller since the last time—”
“Isabelle!”
Anna’s face shimmers with excitement as her gaze diverts to Isabelle. Ignoring me, Anna runs to Isabelle, who gives her a hug with a wide smile on her face.
I can’t believe I’m being pushed to the side like that, but the sight of Anna and Isabelle embracing is so wholesome.
When Isabelle stands back up, I give her a playful nudge in the ribs. “It seems like my niece likes you more than me.”
“I can’t help it,” she says, delight scattering across her cheeks.
“And I can’t help what I plan on doing to you tonight either,” I whisper in her ear.
A dusty pink blooms on Isabelle’s cheeks, and I grin in satisfaction.
“Hey, what are you talking about?” Anna asks, suspicion clouding her tone as she glares at me. “Why are you whispering?”
I clear my throat, trying my best not to laugh. “Just adult talk, Anna.”
Anna pokes her tongue at me before following Victor inside my living room. Isabelle trails behind her. Meanwhile, Lucy gives me a warning look.
I lift a hand in defense. “Luce, I swear, I have no intention of corrupting Anna’s mind.”
My sister rolls her eyes. “Relax. That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Oh,” I say, stifling a chuckle.
Lucy smiles, her gaze darting to Isabelle, who’s now chatting with Victor and Anna. “You and Isabelle look good together. I’m happy for you.”
“I’m really happy, too.”
There’s a twinkle in her eye. “I can tell.”
“All right, shall we get started with dinner?” Isabelle calls out to everyone.
“Sounds good!” Lucy chirps.
I join Isabelle in the kitchen, where the pizzas we made together this afternoon are placed on trays, fresh from the oven. There’s Hawaiian, pepperoni, and two eggplant parmigiana pizzas.
I reach for the first tray. “I’ve got it.”
“I’ll grab the wine then,” she says, walking toward the cabinet.
“Glasses are in the top cabinet on the left.”
“I know,” she hums.
She’s right; she knows every corner of my apartment now, which I have zero complaints about. Whenever she’s in my apartment, it feels brighter, more complete, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle being put in place.
After putting the pizza trays on the dining table, I take my seat next to Isabelle and pour a glass of red wine for everyone—except Anna, who gets apple juice instead.
Once everyone’s settled in their seats, I lift my wineglass, glancing around the table. “A toast to family and to new beginnings.”
There are some cheers and clinking of glasses.
“This looks delicious,” Victor says, eyeing the various pizzas.
“Isabelle and I made them,” I say. “The eggplant pizzas are the best, by the way.”
“Actually, the pepperoni one’s the best,” Isabelle says, mischief in her tone.
“We’ll see,” I quip.
We dive into our meals, and sadly, my eggplant pizzas end up being the least popular among the group, even though I think I did a pretty good job with it.
Mom turns to Isabelle. “Isabelle, Jackson says you’re hosting your own fashion show. How’s the event planning going?”
Isabelle swallows her bite of food. “It’s going great,” she then responds, cheeriness in her tone. “We had a fitting session with the models this week, which went well.”
Pride fills my chest as she speaks. I can’t wait for her big day.
“That’s so exciting,” Mom gushes, grabbing another slice of pizza. “I can’t wait to see all the amazing things you’ll go on to do.”
Isabelle smiles. “Thank you so much, Suzie.”
“Can I come to your fashion show?” Anna pipes up. She takes a piece of mushroom from her pizza slice and puts it inside her mouth.
“Of course, Anna.” Isabelle glances around the table, her eyes lighting up. “I’d love for you all to come.”
“I read your interview in Sparkes Magazine, Isabelle,” Lucy adds. “It was brilliant.”
“Thank you,” Isabelle says. She turns to me. “That interview wouldn’t have been possible without Jackson.”
“I’m just happy to see Isabelle get the recognition she deserves,” I say.
“Are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?” Anna squeals.
“What do you think, Anna?” I ask, grinning.
Anna bounces in her seat, looking like she’s received an early Christmas present. My heart bursts at the joy—so pure and genuine—radiating from her face.
“Can I be the flower girl when you get married?” she asks, eliciting laughs from everyone at the table.
I exchange another look with Isabelle, giving her a small smile before facing my niece again. “Well, I think you’d make an amazing flower girl, Anna.”
“Yay!” Anna cheers.
The conversation diverts to other topics, and Isabelle’s chatting with my family like she’s known them for many years. I toss another glance at my beautiful girlfriend, smiling as she selects another slice of Hawaiian pizza from the tray and laughs at something my sister says.
Home isn’t a place. It’s a person. It’s a feeling. It’s her. It’s the memories we create and share together, the small moments in the day-to-day. Everything feels natural when it’s with Isabelle, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When dinner’s over, Lucy and her family are the first to leave to meet Anna’s nine p.m. bedtime. Shortly after, Mom decides to leave as well to check in to her hotel room.
“Are you sure you don’t want to crash at my place, Mom?” I ask. “I can just sleep on the couch.”
Mom waves a hand. “I’ll be fine staying at the hotel. I’m meeting up with someone as well over the next few days, so it’ll be easier to just stay there. But I appreciate the offer.”
I nod. “Sounds good. Who are you meeting up with, by the way?”
Mom’s face tenses for a brief moment before relaxing again—so fast that I wonder if I imagined it. “Just an old friend I haven’t seen in a while. Nothing too special.”
An odd quiver flutters in my gut, but I shove it away. “I see.”
She pulls me into a hug. “Love you, honey.”
“Love you, too, Mom,” I say, hugging her back. “Enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“I will.” She brushes a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m flying back Friday evening. Maybe I could pop by your office, see you again around lunchtime on Friday?”
“I’d love that,” I say. “Just let me know what time.”
“Will do.” Mom gives me a smile and says farewell to Isabelle before leaving my apartment.
As the front door closes with a click, Isabelle and I head back to the kitchen. “That was so lovely. I loved seeing your family again,” she says.
I give her hand a squeeze. “They really like you.”
She grins. “I know.”
Mom’s face flashes in my head, and the uneasy feeling from minutes ago suddenly returns, this time settling low and deep in my ribs.
Isabelle studies me, a concerned look on her face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, ignoring the perturbing sensation in my stomach.
Everything’s fine.