Isabel is the strongest person I know. Stronger than me.
And I don’t want to spend another second pretending I’m okay without her.
I let the tears fall. No shame. No pride. Just raw, blistering regret.
I’m going to win her back.
Even if it takes the rest of my life.
Because she’s not just the mother of my child.
She’s my home.
My forever.
And I’ll do anything—anything—to make her believe in me again.
When Isabel wakes up and notices me staring at her, her eyes linger on mine for a heartbeat too long before she pushes up from the armchair and quietly walks toward the door.
“Izzy, wait.” My voice cracks, and I push myself upright on the edge of the bed, pain rippling through my body, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except her.
She stops, turns, and slowly walks back to me. There’s wariness in her eyes. Distance. But she still comes.
“Do you need something?” she asks, voice soft—barely more than a whisper, like she’s afraid to disturb the air between us.
“I need you,” I say, locking my gaze into hers. “I’m sorry, baby.”
I reach out and pull her into my arms. She doesn’t resist, but she doesn’t melt into me either. She’s stiff, still guarded. My heart threatens to tear apart at the silence stretching between us.
But then—finally—her arms wrap around me. I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and for the first time in weeks, I feel alive.
“How do you feel today?” she asks, cupping my face. Her fingertips graze over the unshaven scruff on my jaw. That simple touch brings tears to my eyes.
I take her hands and kiss them both. “Much better. Still can’t walk for long, but I’m not giving up. I swear I’m not.”
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, tears shimmering in her eyes.
I gently brush them away with my thumbs. “I thought you’d gone home.”
She shakes her head. “Not without you. I couldn’t. I needed to be here, in case you needed anything... or me.”
“You’ve always been here,” I say, my voice trembling. “Even when I didn’t deserve it.”
She nods, eyes full of unshed emotion. “I don’t deserve you,” I confess, the weight of my guilt nearly unbearable. “I’ve been such an idiot.”
She smiles through the sadness and hugs me. “I love you, Nate.”
“You’re my life, baby.” I pull her tight against me, burying my face in her neck, inhaling the scent that always meant home. Her scent. My anchor.
“Izzy… are you—” My voice falters, breaking on the one question that’s haunted me since that day. “Are you pregnant?”
She sighs, her hand brushing over my chest. “No, Nate. I’m not. I’m sorry.”
I look at her, stunned. “But... why would you?—?”
“I needed to shake you. To wake you up. You were slipping, Nate. Giving up. I knew that news would make you fight. And it did.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe both. “You shattered me, Izzy. Then you left and ghosted me. I thought I lost you—and the baby. I imagined you walking around with our child, and I wasn’t there. I wanted that baby, Izzy. I want a future with you. A home. A family.”
