Chapter 4
I press an ice pack against my arm, still swollen and bruised from Noah’s drunken display. What was that even about? He didn’t want me before, and now-seeing me with someone else-he suddenly needs me?
A sharp buzz from my phone makes me jump.
I check it, hoping, praying, that it’s Liam.
Oliver. You have got to be kidding me. This day couldn’t get any more fucked up.
Oliver: Hey babe.
Bella: Babe? After 6 months of ghosting me? This is a joke, right?
Oliver: I told you I didn’t want anything serious.
Bella: That’s not an excuse to ghost somebody who actually gave a fuck about you. Use your words. Act like a fucking adult. What is wrong with you?
Oliver: I’m really sorry. I was also seeing a coworker and I kind of wanted to see where it would go with her.
Bella: Clearly it didn’t work out, or you wouldn’t be talking to me.
Also, you know what, no. I’m not entertaining you.
You can’t come waltzing in here after 6 months and expect me to waste my time on somebody who literally told me that they didn’t want to date me.
I’m not doing that to myself AGAIN. Get over yourself Oliver, you are not God’s gift to Earth.
Women are human beings with feelings and you can’t be an asshole and say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal. You're too late.
Oliver: I’m sorry Isabel. I really am. If you don’t want to be with me, then fine. I’m an asshole, I know that. But at least be my friend. I am okay with being in the friend zone. I just don’t want another 6 months with you, not in my life. I missed you.
Bella: I don’t want to be with you. And today, I don’t even want to be your friend. I’ll think about it..maybe. If I ever decide you’ve earned the privilege of being back in my life, I’ll let you know.
Oliver: And Isabel? I am God’s gift to Earth.
I put my phone on the charger and jump in the shower to clean the shit show of the past 24 hours off of me.
Oliver was the guy I thought I was going to end up with.
Five years older, fresh out of college, all charm and smiles, the kind of guy who made you think he was untouchable.
We agreed it was just a casual fling, due to the age difference but he acted like I mattered, like I actually counted.
And then? Just like that, he disappeared.
No calls, no texts, nothing. Vanished. And of course, right on schedule for Valentine’s Day, because apparently, timing matters to him only when it’s convenient.
I don’t miss him. I don’t even want him. But I’ll admit, I hate that he had the audacity to make me believe in him, even for a little while.
Part of me wanted him to be dead, because that would’ve hurt less than realizing I’d been discarded like garbage, but unfortunately he wasn’t.
And yet I didn’t stay angry. I didn’t cry as much as I wanted to.
I was furious, hurt, and humiliated all at once, because I thought I at least deserved an explanation.
But I got nothing. Nothing. And now, finding out it was for another girl?
That sent a fire through me I couldn’t put out.
He was one of my best friends and we had a great time together, with whatever we were.
Just then my thoughts are interrupted by my doorbell.
I turn my water off, wrap myself in a robe and look at my Ring doorbell to see who is there.
Noah.
“Give me a minute,” I say through my doorbell.
I slip on a sundress and wrap my wet hair in a towel and walk downstairs.
“What Noah?” I asked, opening the door, I walked back inside, and suggested he follow so that I don’t give my neighbors a show. He follows me in and closes the door softly behind him, his eyes glistening with tears. I knew, somehow, I knew he knew.
“Isabel… I am so sorry,” he says, cupping my face. A single tear slips down his cheek. His voice cracks. “I never…”
“I know, Noah,” I cut in, gently removing his hand from my face. “You never meant to hurt me… but you did.”
His hands drop to his sides, trembling slightly. “How..how can I make it up to you?” he pleads, another tear trailing down his cheek.
I glance away, heart tightening. I wanted to reach for him, to soothe him-but I couldn’t. Not yet. Not until the hurt stops echoing in my chest.
“I just.. I can’t stand seeing you hurt like this,” he whispers, voice trembling. “I never stopped thinking about you, Isabel. Not for a second. You mean more to me than anything else. And now seeing you like this? It’s tearing me apart.”
I swallow, keeping my face neutral. “Noah, you did this. You made me feel invisible. And somehow that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was making me believe I mattered, letting me trust that, and then discarding me like it meant nothing.”
“I know, and I hate myself for it. But please.. don’t let this end us,” he says, leaning closer. “I know there’s, Liam. I see him. I get it, he’s in your life. But that doesn’t change what we have. You know you’re mine, Isabel. Always have been.”
His hand reaches for mine, hesitating just enough to make me think he’s asking, not taking. “I’ll do anything. Anything to fix this, to make you feel safe again. You don’t need him, not really. You need me. Can’t you see? I’m not letting you go.”
I pull back slightly, heart hammering. The familiar ache is there, the one that always made me want to melt and forgive him, but this time, I feel the sting of his words twisting around me. He’s not just apologizing, he’s reminding me how much he thinks he owns my heart, even in the shadow of Liam.
“Let me take you to the ceremony. We’re both going anyway, that way we can at least talk” he pleads with gentle eyes.
“Noah, I don’t think that is a good idea”.
“Isabel, please” with more tears running down his cheek.
“Fine,” I sigh, swallowing the tightness in my throat. “But I have to finish getting ready.”
I walk back through the kitchen to put the ice pack away, my arm still throbbing, my head even worse. “Come upstairs,” I add, nodding toward the stairs. “I need to talk to my best friend. Best friend Noah. Not ex-boyfriend Noah. No funny business.”
He nods once and follows me, but something feels different this time. The air upstairs is heavy, thick with unspoken endings, like we’re standing in the quiet aftermath of something that’s already over, even if neither of us has said it out loud yet.
I sit down at my vanity, staring at my reflection as I reach for my makeup bag. My hands are steady, but my chest isn’t.
“So,” I say casually, a little too casually. “Guess who texted me when I got home?”
“Liam?” he says immediately, rolling his eyes, irritation slipping into his voice before he can stop it.
“Ollie.”
I glance at him through the mirror, watching his face change.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he scoffs. “What was his excuse this time? For ghosting you for six months?” He shakes his head. “The nerve of this guy. You really know how to pick ’em, Bella.”
I really know how to pick ‘em. The irony.
A few minutes went by as he read and analyzed each one of the texts between Oliver and I.
Noah grabs my phone from the bed and scrolls through the messages, his jaw tightening with every word. I watch him in the mirror, careful not to let him see the satisfaction in my calm.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters under his breath, eyes darkening. “Six months and he just waltzes back into your life like it’s nothing?” He tosses the phone back toward me, but his hand lingers in the air for a second, almost as if daring me to reach for it.
“You knew I’d be pissed,” he says, voice low, dangerous, and just a little bitter. “And you didn’t even warn me. You just handed it to me. Typical.”
I lean back in my chair, keeping my tone light, teasing. “Oh, I thought you liked a challenge.”
He huffs, a frustrated sound that rumbles deep in his chest. “A challenge? Bella, this isn’t a game. You know I..I just..” He trails off, shaking his head, swallowing hard. “You make it impossible not to care about you. Even when I shouldn’t.”
I smile faintly, satisfied with the way his words stumble over themselves. “Careful, Noah. You’re letting him into your head too much.”
He glares at me, but it’s not just anger, there’s something possessive under there too, a mix of jealousy and unspoken warning. “I don’t care about him. He’s nothing. You’re mine, Bella. Just don’t ever forget that.”
I lean back in my chair, looking him dead in the eye through the mirror. My voice is calm, deliberate, but every word lands like a hammer.
“No,” I say slowly, letting it sink in. “I’m Liam’s.”
His eyes flash, dark and stormy, a mix of disbelief and heat. He swallows hard, jaw tightening. “What- what did you just say?” His voice is low, almost a growl.
I shrug casually, tossing my hair over my shoulder, while finishing my makeup in the mirror . “You heard me. Liam. Not Ollie. Not you. Him. So whatever you were hoping was going to happen when you came over here.... forget it.”
He steps closer, the air between us suddenly thick, charged, and dangerous. “You think you can just say that and I’ll just..back off?” His fingers twitch, almost reaching for mine, but he stops. “You know I-I don’t do ‘back off,’ Bella. You can’t just hand me this and tell me to ignore it.”
I meet his gaze, unflinching. “Watch me. Because this isn’t yours to decide, Noah. I’ve made my choice.”
He exhales sharply, frustration and something darker warring behind his eyes, he scoffs. “You’ve made your choice, fine. But don’t think this makes it easy for me. You’ve never made anything easy, have you?”
“Damn I look good” I admired myself in the most perfect shade of yellow sundress “Alright let’s go before we are late”.