Page 74 of Enigma: The Final Chapter
My gaze turns down to Isaac, waiting for some reaction. He remains quiet with his darkened eyes flicking between mine. My heart bleeds when he places me back onto my feet, then takes a step back. His eyes are clouded with confusion, and his ruthless businessman mask is secured firmly in place.
“My uncle saved her from her father’s clutches.” My voice comes out trembling to match the flipping of my queasy stomach. “She was never in an accident. She’s been living in Tiburon the entire time.”
A look I’ve never seen crosses over his face before it vanishes as quickly as it came. He stands across from me, completely motionless. His shoulders are square and taut, and his lips are etched into a harsh, thin line.
“Say something.”
His silence is cutting deeper than any words he could possibly say, proving people who claim ‘silence is golden’ have obviously never been in his presence when he's staring at you like you’re a stranger, where mere minutes ago, he was peering at you in awe. He’s never been a communicator, preferring to use his body to express himself rather than words, but his silence weighs heavily on my chest, amplifying the pain crippling me.
The clutch gripping my heart firms when I take a step toward him, and he shakes his head, soundlessly rejecting me. Realizing he most likely needs answers, I dig the photo Brandon gave me out of the pocket of my jeans. After smoothing out its wrinkles, I hand it to him. The tremor zapping my arm makes the picture shake like a feather in a hot summer breeze.
“Her name is now Olivia. She’s a pharmacist in a town on the outskirts of Tiburon.”
The darkness in Isaac’s eyes changes when they dart down to assess the picture. I balk when he snatches it out of my clasp to appraise it. His eyes flick as he ticks off each of Ophelia’s unique features. I did the same thing when my eyes first absorbed this photo—same nose, same eyes, same face, same heart-shaped mole.
I lick my lips, soothing their dryness so I can continue with my story before I lose the nerve. “She has a child. A little boy.”
The temperature in the room turns roasting when Isaac’s eyes rocket back to mine. Sweat beads on my neck before it trickles down my spine.
“How old?” His voice is the deepest I’ve ever heard it.
“At a guess, I'd say around six.”
Knuckles popping echo around the room before he makes a beeline for the door. I stand frozen for a beat, my mind unable to comprehend what’s transpiring. After several heart-thrashing seconds, I snub the stabbing tearing my heart in two and take off after him. My lungs stop working when I discover him in the master suite packing an overnight bag. Every nightmare I imagined comes to fruition as I watch him move around the room, gathering enough necessities to last him a minimum of three days.
I sit on the bed, not wanting to impede his quest to pack quickly. My heart aches and my stomach is churning, but I predicted this exact reaction.
I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.
As he secures the zipper on his bag, his eyes float over my face for the quickest second. His brows furrow, seemingly surprised, like he’s already forgotten I’m here.
“Isabelle. I have to go. I have to do this.”
Unable to speak through the lump in my throat, I simply nod. The air is sucked from my lungs when he crouches down in front of me. Having his gorgeous face this close is just cruel when I’m seconds from losing him. After cupping my cheeks, he presses a quick peck to the edge of my quivering mouth, stands, then leaves without so much of a backward glance.
The rumbling of his engine sounds through the eerie quietness of his house a few minutes later. Then not long after that, the silence matches the sentiments of my heart—empty and hollow.
I crawl into a ball in the middle of our bed and sob, hurt he could leave me so quickly, and how easy it was for him to forget the promises we’ve made to each other the past few months.
I cry and cry until there are no tears left.
The next morning, the devastation of my loss is still twisting my stomach, but as the day goes on, it’s joined by the piquant grasp of anger. My annoyance is so paramount, it visibly shakes through my body, flushing my skin with a hue of pink.
Ignoring the pain shredding my chest into pieces, I pad to the walk-in closet and find the sluttiest outfit I have before preparing my makeup for a night out on the town. My spur-of-the-moment decision to go dancing with Cate has been incited by Isaac’s lack of communication all day. He maintained complete radio silence. Not a text. Not a phone call. Not even a Facebook message.Nothing.
Once I have my face perfectly made up, I guzzle down the last mouthful of chardonnay in the bottle before making my way downstairs. My footing is a little rickety, not just because of the dangerously high stilettos I'm wearing, but because I’ve had a few glasses of liquid courage to ensure I can leave Isaac’s residence unaccompanied and for the last time. Even though my levelheadedness evades me whenever I'm in Isaac’s presence, I'm smart enough to know only a fool would remain living in a man’s house that she no longer has any claim to.
Pain grips my heart when I snag my clutch purse from the kitchen counter and amble toward the front door. I place my cell phone and engagement ring into the crystal bowl on the entry table, along with a handwritten note for Isaac, choosing the coward’s way out. I'm too much of a chicken to confront him in person, and this way, I won’t have to witness seeing him with Ophelia. My heart would never survive seeing that.
After one final glance of the foyer, I head outside to wait for the taxi I called an hour ago, my heart cracking more with every step I take.
Cate greets me at the front of The Dungeon parking lot with a big grin. She's wearing a pink, sleeveless sequined dress that showcases her petite body in a fitting light. Her shoes are sparkly and black, adding a few inches to her short stature, and her tangy citrus smell engulfs me when she throws her arms around my neck.
“Izzy, you look like a naughtylittle devil,” she playfully chides when she takes in my super tight, black lace mini dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. I was aiming for the naughty devil look, so her comment gives credit to my outfit selection.
“Hi, Cate, you look ravishing.”
After wrapping her arm around the crook of my elbow, she guides us toward the entrance of the nightclub. “We better get you inside before Isaac catches sight of you in that dress. He’ll lock you up so the drove of men can’t charge at you.”
