Page 46 of Until You (Forgive Me)

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” Christian asked.

“Apart from taking me back to the beginning of the weekend for a do-over?” she said with a dry laugh.

Silence filled the gap. “Is that what you’d wish for?”

She realised how it must have sounded. “I’m sorry... That sounded wrong.” Isabella said with a sigh, “It’s been a really long day. How was your flight?”

“Damn it, Isabella, don’t go all polite on me. Scream, shout, cuss me out... anything, but please... don’t be polite. I screwed up.”

Christian’s voice was loud and strained.

“No, Christian. This is not on you.” She lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I wanted to spend the weekend with you. I knew the risks. The office opening here is huge. I was stupid and naïve, and now I’m paying the price. The fact I’ve stayed out of the limelight for seven years... it was bound to end at some point. I’ll weather this storm the same way I did before.”

“Scarlett warned me... you told me yourself...”

Isabella smiled to herself. He was beating himself up when he’d given her so much more than he could ever know.

“Christian, stop. It should be me apologising to you. I know you value your privacy. If anyone else was in the pictures with you, they would have ignored it.”

They both knew it was true. This was a shit show, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. They’d have to weather the storm.

“Come to England.”

Isabella sat up, almost dropping the phone. “What?” she said, choking on the air she’d swallowed.

“You heard me. Come to England. We can weather this together. Put an end to the rumours. Face it head on... no more running.” he said, his tone growing in strength. “Richard told me The Retreat is under siege. If you leave, May can get back to running it.”

“I can’t leave May to run the business on her own. She has a four-month-old baby, and we’re fully booked for the next few months,” Isabella snapped. “I’m not doing that to her.”

“Annelise has offered to help behind the scenes while you’re gone.” he put in, unfazed by her mood.

“Are you trying to take over my life, Christian? If so, stop it right now... This is my home. My life. I can’t simply walk away.”

A hot flush spread throughout her body, her stomach tightening.

“If you stay, you may not have a business left,” he added, his temper rising.

“And whose fault is that?” Isabella spat.

All she could hear was their heavy, angry breaths. Isabella knew Christian was only trying to help... but running away? She couldn’t do that to May.

“I need to go,” she said.

“Izzy, no...”

Isabella disconnected the call. It rang again, but every time, she disconnected until Christian finally gave up. She picked up the phone and dialled May’s mobile.

“Hello?” May answered, clearly not recognising the number.

“May, it’s me,” Isabella answered, her voice catching in her throat.

“Oh, hon. How are you?”

The sympathy in May’s voice nearly tipped her over the edge.

“I just had a row with Christian,” she admitted. “He wants me to go to England so we can face this together. He clearly doesn’t think it’s going to blow over. I agree with him, but this is my home.”

“Oh, my love,” May said, her voice resigned. “If you want my opinion. I think you should go. Annelise and I have just spoken. She’s willing to help me here. You need to get things sorted out. If not, the press will continue to hound you.” May sighed. “You have done well. You’ve flown below their radar. But now the floodgates have opened, and you risk going from one story to the next. You’re hot property.”

---