(Ethan's POV)
Isabella's reappearance was a storm I didn't need. A tempest that threatened to destroy the fragile peace I'd found with Claire. The guilt of leaving Claire, and now Isabella standing in front of me, created a wall of anxiety.
"But do you love her enough to risk everything?" Isabella asked, her voice barely audible, her eyes filled with a desperate hope. "Do you love her enough to let go of the past?"
The question hung in the air, a raw, painful challenge. It forced me to confront the fears I'd tried so hard to bury, the past I'd tried so hard to escape.
"I...I don't know," I confessed, my voice barely audible, my vulnerability laid bare. "I'm scared, Isabella. Scared of repeating the past. Scared of losing her."
"Then prove it, Ethan," she said, her voice firm, her eyes filled with a desperate plea. "Prove that you're not the man I left behind."
The words were a gauntlet thrown down, a challenge I couldn't ignore. I needed to prove to myself, to Claire, to Isabella, that I'd changed.
"I'm going to make this right," I said, my voice rough, my eyes filled with a raw determination. "I'm going to fix this."
I stood up, my movements stiff and mechanical, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to find Claire, to explain everything, to erase the doubts that threatened to pull us apart.
I walked out of my office, my eyes fixed on Claire's, my mind racing with a desperate need to explain. I found her in the design studio, her expression guarded, her eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and suspicion.
"Claire," I said, my voice soft, my hand reaching for hers. "We need to talk."
But before I could say another word, Liam walked into the studio, his expression grave, his eyes fixed on me.
"Ethan," he said, his voice tight, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and anger. "Isabella's here. She's...she's causing trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" I asked, my voice tight, my eyes shifting to Liam.
"She's telling everyone...everything," he said, his voice barely audible, his eyes shifting to Claire. "About your past. About...her."
The words hit me like a physical blow, a sharp, twisting pain in my gut. I looked at Claire, her expression hardening, her eyes filled with a raw, undeniable hurt.
"I need to talk to her," I said, my voice firm, my eyes fixed on Liam. "I need to make her stop."
I turned to leave, my movements urgent, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to protect Claire, to shield her from the pain of my past.
But as I walked away, I didn't see Claire's retreating figure, or the tears that fell from her eyes.
(Claire's POV)
The picture on Sarah's phone, the news of Isabella's return, it was a cruel twist of fate, a reminder of the insecurities I'd tried so hard to bury. I needed answers, I needed to know if Ethan was choosing the past, or if he was choosing me.
I walked into the design studio, my expression guarded, my eyes fixed on Ethan. I needed to see his reaction, to gauge his honesty.
"Claire," he said, his voice soft, his hand reaching for mine. "We need to talk."
But before he could say another word, Liam walked into the studio, his expression grave, his eyes fixed on Ethan.
"Ethan," he said, his voice tight, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and anger. "Isabella's here. She's...she's causing trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Ethan asked, his voice tight, his eyes shifting to Liam.
"She's telling everyone...everything," Liam said, his voice barely audible, his eyes shifting to me. "About your past. About...her."
The words hit me like a physical blow, a sharp, twisting pain in my gut. My eyes narrowed, my expression hardening.
"I need to talk to her," Ethan said, his voice firm, his eyes fixed on Liam. "I need to make her stop."
He turned to leave, his movements urgent, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't see my retreating figure, or the tears that fell from my eyes.
I didn't hear the context, the desperation in his voice, the raw determination to protect me. I only heard the words, the confirmation of my deepest fears.
He was choosing her. He was choosing the past. He was choosing business, and damage control, over me.
The betrayal, the hurt, the raw, undeniable pain—it was almost unbearable. I felt a wave of despair wash over me, a raw, primal fear that I was losing him.
I walked away, my movements stiff and mechanical, my heart aching with a familiar pain. I'd opened myself up to him, trusted him, believed in him. And he'd shattered my trust, just like before.
I walked out of the office, my eyes fixed on the city skyline, my mind racing with unanswered questions. I needed to leave, to escape the pain, to rebuild the walls I'd so recklessly torn down. And I knew that if Ethan didn't come after me, it would be the end.