415 PM
Chapter 11
The days that followed were still and quiet–filled with healing the scent of warm tea, and the occasional song humming softly from the radio. I painted more, sometimes for hours, losing myself in color and light. For the first time in a long while, I was living without walking on eggshells.&
My stepfather had become my anchor. He’d knock on my door with lunch, or gently remind me to rest when I forgot to he brought in an old photo of Mom, and we sat on the porch remembering her. It was peaceful. Bittersweet Healing.&
That evening, I lit a candle near the small table where we kept the um 3
One
morning.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered, fingers brushing the edge of the marble. “Some of your ashes. Jasmine threw them away after saying they were clutter. I didn’t get them back, Mom I’m sorry.”
My stepfather placed a hand on my shoulder. “She didn’t take your mother from us, sweetheart. Her memory is safe. With us. And I’ll make sure this urn stays protected, no matter what happens.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat
Later that day, over tea, he cleared his throat. Isabella… I hope this doesn’t catch you off guard, but I’ve arranged for you to meet
someone.
I blinked. “You what?” Then I remembered. “Yeah, right. I told you that I would do anything as long as you pick me up from that hell.”
He chuckled. “Yes, but it’s not a setup like you think. Just dinner. He’s from a respectable family, and–well–it’s good for business. But more importantly, he’s kind. Steady. I’d like you to meet him. Just once. And if you don’t like him, you don’t have to see him again.
I smiled. “You’re trying to marry me off again?
He raised an eyebrow. “Never without your consent. But I think… maybe it’s time to open your heart to something new.”
“Alright,” I said softly. I’ll meet him. But no expectations.”
“Fair enough.”
That evening. I dressed simply. No drama. No gowns or showy jewelry. Just a soft blue dress, my hair in a loose braid, and a light touch of gloss. I didn’t want to impress anyone–ljust wanted to be mell
I arrived at the small Italian restaurant ten minutes early. The host led me to a private corner booth tucked beside a wall of books. I took a breath, settled my nerves, and waited
And then he walked in.
“Troy?”
He froze. I stood.
“You’re the setup? I asked, eyes wide.
He grinned. “Apparently, my father’s matchmaking skills haven’t changed. He said he knew someone perfect.”
I nodded, still grinning as I took my seat “Of all people.
“Right? I thought my dad was setting me up with someone new from his business circle. Someone quiet. Serious. Possibly terrifying.”
“Hey, I mock–pouted, “I can be serious.”
He leaned forward with a smirk. “Yeah? Prove it.”3)
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m seriously considering dumping this wine on your head.
He laughed again—an easy, infectious sound–and I couldn’t help but smile tool
Conversation flowed like we’d never stopped speaking. We talked about childhood memories, our awkward teen years, and that one time
I accidentally spilled juice all over his science notes in eighth grade.
“You were so red, I thought you’d combust,” he teased, taking a sip of his drink
“You still let me borrow your notes after that, though,” I said, raising a brow.
“I was already in too deep” he admitted. “I had a crush on you since the first time you comected the teacher”
I blinked. “You what?
“Mm–hmm.” He leaned in slightly. “You were smart. Fierce. And you always smelled like strawberries,
I laughed, hiding my blush behind my glass. “You remember that?”
“Some things stick,” he said softly, his eyes holding mine for a second longer than necessary.
Over dessert, his tone shifted. More serious. His fingers brushed the edge of his glass, “Isabella, can I ask something?”
I met his eyes. “Of course.”
“Would you ever consider marrying me?”
The question wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t a tease. It landed between us, soft but thunderous.
My breath caught
He continued, more gently now. “I know it’s sudden. But I’ve liked you since we were kids. And now, seeing you again, knowing what you’ve been through. I don’t know, it just feels right.”
I looked away, letting the question settle. I wasn’t ready for this. Not really.X
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “After what happened with Kevin, I promised myself I wouldn’t rush into anything. He told me he’d take care of me. That I’d never have to work. And then he… Host myself trying to live up to his version of love.”%
Try marhed armes the table his hand ervarinn mina
