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.

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