That pull was always there, even when I didn’t know her name. Just that soft voice, that fire behind her laughter, the way she carried herself even as a kid. And now… now I know. Isabel is the one girl who’s lived rent-free in my head since forever. The one who slipped through my fingers, only to be thrown back into my life like a match into gasoline.
And of course—of fucking course—our parents had to twist fate into a goddamn noose. Turn something real into a negotiation.
A deal.
A cage.
Not that I’d ever regret marrying her. If it were up to me, I’d already have that ring on her finger. But not like this. Not because we’re cornered.
I want her to choose me.
Freely.
Fiercely. The way she fights everything else in her life—I want her to fight for us.
I rub my face, jaw tight with frustration, and let my head flop back against the worn leather couch. The fire crackles beside me, but it doesn’t warm the cold knot forming in my gut.
What a fucking mess.
Offering her a way out might’ve been the dumbest, most selfless thing I’ve ever done. Because now that I’ve said it, I’m terrified she’ll take it. That she’ll walk away, and I’ll be left chasing the ghost of something I never really got to have.
And the truth is, I don’t know how to fix it. I can feel the weight of our parents already pressing in, plotting behind velvet curtains, tugging on strings neither of us asked for. They’ll use whatever leverage they can to see this through, to make sure we’re hitched—love be damned.
Then there’s my leave. That invisible clock ticking down. I don’t even know when I’ll be recalled. Days? Weeks? Every hour I’m not in uniform feels borrowed.
The pressure claws at me. So I do the only thing I can—I hit the shower, trying to rinse the tension from my skin, trying to make sense of a storm I don’t know how to navigate.
The water’s hot, beating down my back like I deserve it, but it doesn’t calm the thoughts racing through my head.
I’ve never done this. Never felt like this. Relationships weren’t my thing. Hell, feelings weren’t my thing. One-night stands were easier. Clean. Quick. No heartstrings. No risk. I looked into their eyes searching for something—anything—that even remotely resembled the feeling Isabel gave me.
But it was never there.
Because none of them were her.
And now, standing here with the steam rising around me, I finally admit the one thing I’ve been avoiding for years. Isabel—my Izzy—was the only one who ever made me feel real. She makes me feel seen.
She calms the war in my chest, shushing every storm I’ve spent my life trying to outrun. But at the same time, she sets something inside me ablaze. Makes me feel alive. Worthy. Like maybe, just maybe, I could be more than what the world carved me into.
I rest my head against the cold tile, water cascading over me, and breathe her name into the steam.
Isabel.
This thing between us—it was never supposed to be forced. It was supposed to be ours.
And I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that from her. Or from me.
When I walk out of the bathroom, I catch sight of Izzy standing in the nook at the end of the hallway, scanning the bookshelves like she’s searching for a hidden message among the spines. The soft yellow light casts a warm glow over her, catching the waves in her hair and the gentle curve of her back. She turns at the sound of my footsteps, her gaze snapping to me—no, devouring me—with an intensity that shoots straight through my chest.
Jesus. One more look like that and I’ll come undone.
I pull the t-shirt over my head, the fabric cool against my skin. A note registers in the back of my mind—I’ll need to grab us a few essentials tomorrow. No bags, no plans, no preparation. Not that I regret it. Not if it means being alone with her.
“You find anything good?” I ask, trying to sound casual even though my pulse is anything but.
Izzy licks her lips—slow, like she’s doing it on purpose. “Not really.”
That small motion knocks the air from my lungs. My feet carry me to her before I realize I’m moving. She’s still in that damn dress, but her makeup’s gone now. Barefaced, she’s even more stunning—real and raw in a way that makes my chest ache. And with her heels off, she barely reaches my chest.
