Twisted Fate: Second Chance Heiress

Chapter 8: The Boyfriend

~Isabella’s POV~

William? Boyfriend?. I stuttered, feeling confused at the absurd claim, the man who stood before me, nursing his bruised jaw had made. As my fists gradually unclenched, my body slacked, and the adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins now receded, leaving me feeling weak and lightheaded.

William?. My breathe hitched. The name felt foreign on my tongue, and didn't ring any bells. Not until he let go of his jaw, stepping out of the shadows that concealed his face, as the moon's glow illuminated his features. That's when I recognized him. The same William, whose picture sat on Isabella’s nightstand, the one I’d seen and dismissed as a mere acquaintance.

But clearly I was mistaken, now knowing he was much more than that. The terror I felt now began to recede, replaced by a fresh wave of confusion and a prickle of guilt for striking him.

“What the hell, Isabella?” he groaned, his hand still cupped around his jaw. “Did you really forget me that quickly? Or is this just another one of your dramatic stunts?” His eyes, which looked usually warm in the photos, were narrowed with a mix of pain and accusation.

“Stunt?” I echoed, my own anger flaring despite the fresh wave of guilt washing over me. “You grabbed me from behind! In the dark! What was I supposed to think?”

“I was trying to comfort you!” he retorted, wincing as he spoke. “I saw you storm out, looking upset, and I followed. I didn’t think you’d....... you'd assault me!”

“Assault you?” I scoffed, though the tremor in my voice betrayed my inner turmoil. “What did you expect? And comfort me? Is that what you call it? Because the last time I checked, comfort doesn’t usually involve a surprise attack in a dark garden!”. I reprimanded, while I glared at him, studying his face when I see his expression shift from anger to something akin to exasperation, as he took a step closer to me.

Seeing him move forward I immediately shrugged uncomfortably backing away, when he halted in his tracks.

I didn't know this man but since I now had the face of his lover, I knew I needed to act the part. Only that I didn't know how or where to begin, since I knew nothing about their relationship.

Gosh, I wondered how he would react and feel if he knew the person who now stood before him wasn't his beloved Isabella and she was already dead. I guess this was one of the many perks I had to deal with, while I played pretend.

“Why are you even here William?. I asked

“Why am I here? Are you being serious Isabella”. he scoffed through a bewildered chuckle, like I had made some kind of jest.

“I can't believe you just asked me that, like I had no right to be here. First you return back from your trip and didn't bother to reach out to me, your boyfriend....... your boyfriend Isabella. Only for me to come here hoping to talk to you but instead I find out about your engagement to that Romero fellow” he furiously spat out, as his muscles tightened with veins popping out from his neck.

“Isabella, what is wrong with you tonight? he continued. Not only did you hide the fact that your marrying someone else, but you punched me hard in the face, your own boyfriend. Is this about what happened between us? Are you trying to punish me for… you know?” He trailed off, his gaze softening, with a flicker of remorse in his eyes.

“Wait, what happened between us?” I repeated, utterly bewildered by his statement.

“Oh please Isabella, don't try to change the subject by acting like your oblivious of what I'm talking about, when clearly your doing the exact same thing”. William responded, avoiding the question by gaslighting me with something I had no idea as to what he meant.

But in all honesty it wasn't really my business what fallout he and the real Isabella might have had prior to this moment. It had been a long day for me and too many things had already happened. The last thing I needed was more drama.

“Look, William, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And honestly, I don’t care to discuss it right now. You need to leave.” I mumbled the words, as I pointed a trembling finger towards the house. “Now. Or I swear, I’ll call security.” I added

His jaw tightened, and he visibly bristled at my threat. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he said, his voice low and hurt. He looked at me for a long moment, a strange mix of confusion and sadness in his eyes, before he finally nodded.

“Fine. If that’s what you want, but mark my words, we aren't done yet Isabella”. he threatened, with a final, pained glance, he turned and stalked back towards the house, disappearing into the shadows.

As I watched him go, a fresh wave of despair washed over me.

I thought about the real Isabella. What kind of person was she? She had a boyfriend, a past I knew nothing about, and apparently, a complicated relationship with him.

William’s words about “what happened between us” hung in the air, a cryptic puzzle piece I had no way of solving. Was she capricious? Dramatic, as he had implied? The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

I was living her life, but I was so utterly unprepared for the complexities of it.

My gaze drifted to the weeping willow, its branches swaying gently in the night breeze, a silent witness to the chaos of my evening. This wasn't just about escaping my past anymore; it was about navigating a present that was far more intricate than I could have ever imagined. The real Isabella's life was a tangled web of relationships and secrets, and I was caught right in the middle, blindly stumbling through it.

A sudden, sharp pang cut through my thoughts. Tariq, my son. In the chaos of the announcement, the confrontation with Dante, and now William, I had completely forgotten about him. A wave of guilt washed over me. I had promised him I’d check on him tonight, that I’d be there to tuck him in.

Jumping up from the bench, my feet moved before my mind caught up, a desperate urgency propelling me back towards the house. I slipped in through the same french doors, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, my heart pounding with a fresh anxiety. The party was still in full swing, the sounds of laughter and chatter filling the air, but I barely registered them. My focus was solely on reaching Tariq's room.

I ascended the grand staircase two steps at a time, my heels clicking loudly on the polished wood. Down the ornate hallway, past unfamiliar doors, until I reached the one I now knew was his. I gently pushed it open, peeking inside.

The soft glow of a nightlight illuminated the room. Tariq was sound asleep, curled on his side, his small hand tucked beneath his cheek. A lone teddy bear lay nestled beside him. He looked so peaceful, so innocent, utterly oblivious to the tempest raging in the adult world around him.

A profound sense of relief, tinged with shame, washed over me. I had broken my promise. He had gone to bed without me. Slowly, I crossed the room, my movements quiet as a shadow. I knelt beside his bed, reaching out a hand to gently stroke his soft, dark hair. It felt like silk beneath my fingers.

As I watched him sleep, the events of the night replayed in my mind: Dante’s infuriating smirk, the forced engagement, William’s heartbroken accusations, the violent punch I had landed. This life, Isabella’s life, was a whirlwind of drama, secrets, and expectations I didn't understand and certainly hadn't asked for.

I felt a surge of protectiveness for Tariq. He was the one constant, the one anchor in this bewildering sea. Whatever chaos swirled around me, I had to ensure his safety, his happiness. But how could I do that when I barely knew who I was, or rather, who Isabella was, in this elaborate masquerade?

I laid down beside him, carefully, so as not to disturb his sleep, and pulled the blanket up to my chin. The scent of him—warm, sweet, and undeniably my son—was a small comfort in the vastness of my confusion. My hand continued to stroke his hair, a silent promise forming in my heart. “I'll figure this out, Tariq. For you”.

The night stretched on, filled with unanswered questions and the daunting weight of a future I hadn't chosen.

What would tomorrow bring?

And how much longer could I maintain this charade before the truth, whatever it was, came crashing down?