Chapter 17: "I forgive you."
Alice stepped into the house a minute later, just in time to see Kian dragging Isabella up the stairs toward the main bedroom.
Aria rushed over, face pale as a sheet. "Alice... what happened at the party? Why is he like that?"
Alice looked up at the top floor just as the heavy bedroom door slammed shut so hard the walls shook. A slow, ugly smile spread across her lips.
"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Mom," Alice whispered, leaning in close. "Isabella just blew up her own life."
Inside the master bedroom, the door lock clicked into place with a sharp, heavy thud.
Kian let go of her arm and stepped back into the middle of the carpet. He was breathing hard through his nose, his collar pulled open, tie hanging loose, his hair a bit of a mess.
Isabella stumbled back until her hips hit the wooden edge of the vanity table. She stood there, shaking, her useless eyes fixed on the empty air in front of her. Her heart was knocking against her ribs, but under all that terror, she felt this heavy, suffocating confusion.
’Why is he acting like this?’
In her first life, Kian told her straight to her face that he never cared about her. He’d played the loving husband just to swallow her dad’s business whole. If he hated her that much, if the whole marriage was just a cold transaction, he should be jumping at this.
She was handing him an out on a silver platter.
She took all the dirt on herself. She stood in front of people and painted herself as the bad guy, the unfaithful wife. He could sign the papers tomorrow, keep his name clean as the victim, and walk away with every single thing her father left behind.
So why was he acting like his entire life had just caved in?
"It’s not true," Kian said.
The loud anger from the driveway was gone. His voice was terrifyingly flat now. He walked over slowly, his shoes heavy on the floorboards.
"Tell me it’s not true, Bella," he said, stopping right in front of her. "You’re lying. That bastard made you say it. He threatened you."
Isabella forced a breath into her lungs and pushed her chin up. "It’s true, Kian. I didn’t lie. I’ve been seeing Aaron."
"Don’t say his name!" Kian barked, the sound exploding off the walls.
Isabella flinched, pulling her shoulders in tight.
Kian closed his eyes hard, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.
He took a long, rough breath, shoving whatever was tearing through his chest back down into the dark. When he opened his eyes again, his voice was flat again. Dead flat.
"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "You couldn’t have. Since when? How would you even meet him? I know where you go every day. I pick your drivers. I know who works the gates. It doesn’t make sense, Bella."
He wasn’t waiting for her to explain. He was just looking for a hole in the story, anything he could grab onto to make his world make sense again.
"He and I found ways," Isabella said, keeping her voice low and even. "I know I hurt you, Kian. I know what I did is bad. That’s why... that’s why I asked for the divorce. You shouldn’t be stuck with a wife who did this to you. You should be free of me."
She was trying to build him a ramp to walk down. She was taking the fall, trying to give him his pride back so he could just let her walk away without a fight.
Kian looked down at her face. He looked at her jaw, her dark eyelashes, the way her hands wouldn’t stop shaking against her dress.
Then he let out a short, empty laugh.
"A divorce," he repeated quiet, stepping so close his shoes almost touched hers.
"Yes," Isabella whispered, her throat tight. "It’s the right thing to do."
"No," Kian said.
Just one word. Simple, quiet, and final.
Isabella blinked, her brow pulling together. "...What?"
"I said no," Kian said, his voice totally steady. "I’m not doing that."
A cold, heavy feeling sank right into her stomach. The fact that he wasn’t screaming anymore was ten times worse than when he roared a minute ago.
"Kian... you can’t be serious," she said, her voice dropping. "I admitted to cheating on you. In front of all those reporters. Everyone knows. You can’t stay married to me."
Kian reached out. His hand came up to touch her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin the exact same way he did on mornings when he brought her coffee. Isabella froze solid, her breath catching in her throat, but she didn’t dare pull back.
"If you made a mistake..." Kian murmured, leaning down to press his lips against her forehead, quick and gentle. "I forgive you."
Isabella’s brain just stopped. She stood there, completely unable to process what he was saying.
"If Aaron got into your head..." Kian kept going, his thumb tracing her cheekbone, his voice full of this weird, quiet intensity, "I forgive you. If he forced you, if he used your eyes against you... I forgive you, Bella."
He pulled back just enough to look into her blank green eyes.
"Even if you went to him on purpose," Kian whispered, and his tone was as hard as iron.
"Even if you thought for a second you actually wanted him... I still forgive you."
A sharp, ugly fear took root right in her chest. This wasn’t a husband who felt betrayed, and it wasn’t a businessman cutting his losses.
This was something else.
"Kian... please," she choked out, tears finally spilling over her lashes and running down her face. "I don’t... I don’t love you."
Kian didn’t flinch. He didn’t look hurt. He just offered a small, quiet smile and reached up to tuck a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.
"You will again," he said, like he was talking about the weather. "We can start over."
"No," Isabella sobbed, pushing her hands against his chest, but he didn’t budge. "I want a divorce! I told you, I want out."
"And I gave you my answer, Bella," Kian said. His hands moved down to hold her shoulders, gripping her firm, keeping her right where she was.
"You’re my wife. You live here, with me. That’s not changing."