As the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, Isla lay awake in bed, thoughts racing. The events of the previous night replayed in her mind like a movie she couldn’t pause. She had finally come to a resolve: she wouldn’t let Ethan’s behavior dictate her emotions any longer. It was time to take charge.
She rose from her bed, the morning air crisp against her skin. Today was a new day, and with it, an opportunity to set her plan into motion. She had been patient, waiting for the right moment to confront Ethan—not just to express her anger, but to make him understand the stakes of their tumultuous relationship.
After a quick shower, Isla dressed in a fitted blazer and a pair of tailored pants, a sharp look that exuded confidence. She wanted to convey that she was serious, that she was no longer the naïve woman he could manipulate.
As she stepped into the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, but Ethan was nowhere to be seen. He must still be asleep, recovering from the excesses of the night before. Good. She needed this time to gather her thoughts.
Pouring herself a cup, she sat at the table, the silence of the house providing a moment of peace. The light poured in, illuminating the room, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of hope. She could turn this around; she could reclaim her narrative.
After finishing her coffee, Isla decided it was time to wake Ethan. She approached his bedroom door, her heart racing with anticipation and a tinge of nervousness. This would be the confrontation that would define their relationship moving forward.
With a deep breath, she knocked softly. “Ethan, it’s time to get up.”
There was no response. She knocked again, a bit louder this time. “Ethan!”
Finally, she heard a groan from inside. The door creaked open, revealing Ethan, disheveled and bleary-eyed. He leaned against the doorframe, looking both annoyed and vulnerable.
“What do you want, Isla?” he mumbled, rubbing his temples as if the light hurt his head.
Isla crossed her arms, her frustration mounting. “Did you forget? We have a meeting with the client today.”
Ethan blinked slowly, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. “I canceled it.”
Isla’s eyes widened in shock. “What? Why?” Her voice rose slightly as she struggled to hide her disbelief.
Ethan shot her a sharp glare, his features hardening. “Because, why not?”
His dismissive tone stung, and Isla felt her pulse quicken with a mix of anger and confusion. She had worked so hard to secure that meeting, pouring hours into preparing for it. And now Ethan had just thrown it away with a simple decision, as if it meant nothing.
Ethan stood and began fixing his clothes, his movements deliberate and detached. “I have somewhere to be later,” he said flatly, not even looking at Isla. “So, if you could, please leave my room.”
Isla’s jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. Why was he always like this? Cold, distant, impossible to reach. It was as if every attempt she made to connect with him only pushed him further away. She had tried, over and over, to make things work, to understand him. But his constant anger—where was it even coming from?
She stared at him, her thoughts racing. Why are you so angry with me? What did I do to deserve this?
But Ethan’s gaze finally met hers, and his eyes were like ice. “Leave,” he repeated, his tone harder this time. The finality of his words cut through her, and for a moment, Isla felt utterly defeated. She had done everything she could think of to reach him, but every door she knocked on seemed to slam shut.
Isla’s breath hitched as she fought to keep her composure. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but instead, she simply nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
She turned on her heel, the weight of his cold dismissal pressing down on her as she moved toward the door. The silence in the room was suffocating, and for a brief moment, she hesitated at the threshold, hoping—praying—that Ethan would say something, anything to stop her.
But there was nothing. Just the quiet rustle of his movements behind her, and the crushing weight of their unresolved conflict.
With a heavy heart, Isla stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. As soon as she was alone in the hallway, she allowed herself to breathe. Her chest felt tight, her emotions threatening to spill over, but she bit them back. Not now. Not here.
She leaned against the wall, her mind swirling with questions. Why is it always like this? Why does he push me away when all I want is to understand?
But deep down, Isla knew the answer. Ethan wasn’t just pushing her away—he was keeping himself hidden behind the walls he had built. And no matter how hard she tried; she couldn’t tear them down alone.
Still, she wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. If Ethan thought he could keep her at arm’s length forever, he was wrong. She was going to find a way to break through to him, to uncover whatever pain or anger he was holding on to. She had to—for both their sakes.
But for now, she needed to regain her composure. She wouldn’t let him see her like this. Not again.
With a deep breath, Isla straightened and walked away from his room, her mind already working on her next move.