My back collides the hallway wall as my knees nearly give. “Nate.” His name tumbles out in a breath. “Hey. How are you?”
“Tired, baby. But fine.”
And just like that, the walls I’ve been building all week start to crack.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the guards,” he adds, his voice dipped in remorse. “I knew you’d say no.”
“You were right,” I whisper, a small smile tugging at my lips. “But it’s okay. I get it.”
I glance down at my Louboutins, focusing on the red soles instead of the burn behind my eyes. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too. But at least I have your shirt. Warms me at night.”
There’s a smile in his voice, and it melts something inside me. “I knew you took it.”
“You left it hanging on the bathroom door,” he teases softly. “It was an invitation. I love you, Izzy,” he adds, voice dropping to a husky promise.
God. That voice. I close my eyes, holding onto the sound like a lifeline. “I love you too, Nate.”
“I have to go,” he says, regret heavy in every syllable. “But I’ll see you soon.”
“Take care of yourself,” I whisper. “And come back to me.”
I blow him a kiss before ending the call, then press the phone to my chest, grounding myself in the echo of his presence.
But the silence doesn’t last long.
The door swings open, and Dad steps out, his expression thunderous. He walks toward me, voice low but seething. “Next time, turn off your phone.”
I push off the wall, spine straight. “Never.”
“Isabel!” he snaps, his voice rising with authority and irritation. “We were in the middle of an important meeting.”
I don’t flinch. I’ve spent too many years doing that. Instead, I plant my feet, lift my chin, and meet his glare head-on.
“No, Dad,” I say, my voice sharp and unwavering. “You were in the middle of an important meeting called ‘Let’s publicly dismantle my daughter’s ambitions.’”
A few murmurs ripple behind him, but I don’t care.
“I was never part of the conversation—just a prop in your political fantasy. A useful pawn with the right credentials and the right last name.” I take a step closer, the heat building in my chest. “And don’t pretend this couldn’t have been discussed in private. You didn’t want a conversation—you wanted a performance. You wanted to humiliate me in front of your allies.”
His jaw tightens, but I don’t stop. Not this time.
“So congratulations. The show was a success.” I level my gaze at him, refusing to blink. “I’ll come and support you if you really need me, but I won’t pursue a political career. I’m a lawyer. I love what I do.”
His nostrils flare. “You’re throwing away every opportunity?—”
“My cell phone stays on,” I interrupt sharply. “If Nathan calls, I will answer. Every damn time.”
I turn, ready to leave, but his hand wraps around my arm. “Isabel, wait.”
I stop cold, staring at his fingers like they’ve betrayed me. “Why, Dad?” I ask bitterly. “So you can make another decision for me?”
His grip tightens—not enough to hurt, but enough to warn. “You’ve always been interested in politics. You’re smart. This will take you far.”
I yank my arm free, fury rising like a tide. “Politics was your dinner conversation. Your obsession. We talked about nothing else. Of course I found it interesting—it was the only language spoken in our house! But it was your passion. Mine is justice. Real people. Real problems.”
He says nothing, so I continue, voice quiet but firm. “I already know where my smartness will take me. To my law office and also to helping women who’ve had their voices silenced. That’s where I belong.”
