Page 70 of Captive Bride
Tristan
The moment Isobel leaves the room, I become aware of just how vast and empty the space is without her presence.
My entire life has been spent within these walls.
I know every nook and cranny of this house.
They are remnants of a life surrounded by loneliness, endowed with the pain that I’ve never had the courage to speak of...until now.
The emotion that surges through me is a concoction of anger and confusion.
It’s as if my own heart is indecisive about what to feel.
I’m sitting by the dining room table, with a glass of bourbon.
My fingers drum on the pristine surface of the tabletop, as my mind lingers in a state of contemplative reasoning.
I take a deep breath and unfurl my tightly-clasped fist.
I’ve never been able to deal with people walking out on me, and so watching Isobel run out of this room has put me in a foul mood.
Everything tells me that I should run after her, but frankly, I’m not even sure what to say to her.
How can I face this woman, when the very essence of my actions betrays her?
Isobel or my family.
It’s a choice I’ll invariably have to make.
As the moment pass, I’m becoming increasingly tormented by my decision. Of course, I’ve made it already.
I choose her.
I will always choose her.
I love Isobel with all of my heart, and yet I have to hurt her. This damn war is the problem, unceasing and unrelenting it always remains.
I sigh, lifting the glass to my lips.
To think that before today, choosing my family has always been my priority.
I was raised to honor blood before heart.
I can remember my grandfather telling me as a boy, “Only a fool would turn his back on those who raised him. It’s your duty to stand with your family. The Montagues must win this eternal war.”
His words have remained a constant mantra throughout my life.
I had always relied on his words as a guiding force. But now, the foundation of everything that I thought to be true has been tested and broken apart.
I suddenly don’t know what to believe. Family honor brought my life no meaning. I never cared whether I lived or died.
But Isobel…she’s like a breath of fresh air when I had been suffocating.
She’s a beautiful storm, wild and raging, who entered my life without warning, and caused me to reconsider just where my heart lies.
I look toward the stairs. It’s been nearly two hours since she ascended those steps.
“It’s time to face the music,” I say aloud.
