Chapter 118 Feels Like She's Crazy
Isabella walked past him as if he did not exist, heading straight for the kitchen. Within moments, the sounds of clattering pots and sizzling oil filled the air.
William frowned and followed. He found her boiling eggs and pulling beef and vegetables from the refrigerator.
She seemed to have forgotten that at Rosewood Estate, meals were prepared by staff. Back at the other house, if she had wanted to eat, she had cooked for herself.
William said nothing. He simply watched.
Isabella had no idea anyone was behind her. When the housekeeper heard the noise and started toward the kitchen, William caught his eye and shook his head. Do not interfere.
It did not take long before Isabella had finished cooking. She did not carry the food to the dining room. Instead, she stood at the counter and began eating right there in the kitchen.
She was used to the taste of eggs now. She could even choke down the meat.
'This is for Mom,' she told herself.
As long as she kept that thought front and center, she could force down more.
She shoveled food into her mouth, bite after bite, her stomach churning in protest. Several times she felt the urge to vomit and swallowed it back down.
The doctor had said her body was too weak. She had to eat more.
When she could not swallow another bite, she pressed her hand against her chest and made herself continue.
'You have to eat this,' she commanded herself.
Finally, when every scrap of food was gone, she washed the dishes and left the kitchen.
Back in her room, she lay down, willing her body to recover faster.
But sleep would not come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her mother's frail form in that hospital bed.
She wanted to save her. Every day that passed felt like torture.
But her body could not handle sleeping pills right now. They would interfere with the surgery prep.
Maybe it was sheer willpower, or maybe exhaustion finally won out, but Isabella did fall asleep eventually.
When she woke two hours later, she went straight to the backyard and started running.
Her body was too weak. Half a lap in, dizziness swept over her and she had to lean against a tree, gasping for air.
After a brief rest, she started again. This time her legs gave out entirely and she collapsed onto the grass.
William stood on the second-floor balcony, cigarette in hand, watching her push herself with reckless determination. She looked half-mad with it.
Isabella kept up the exercise routine until evening, then dragged her exhausted body back inside.
The housekeeper handed her a glass of water, his voice gentle. "Ms. Tudor, you should not push yourself so hard. You will do real damage."
Isabella gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, but I am all right. Could you make sure the meals these next few days are high in nutrition? Extra sugar if possible, and plenty of protein."
"I will prepare milk tea for you, with extra eggs and beef."
"That would be perfect. Thank you."
She knew she had to get her body into optimal condition before surgery. Sugar would give her quick energy, but what really mattered was protein and vitamins to keep her immune system from collapsing during the procedure.
William understood perfectly well what she was doing. All of this was to meet the surgical requirements as quickly as possible.
But the question still nagged at him. Did she really have no resentment at all?
This was a kidney they were talking about. Not a simple blood draw, but something that would alter her body permanently.
Isla had treated her like dirt. Would probably never acknowledge her as a daughter again. And yet Isabella was willing to go through with this.
That night, William pushed open her bedroom door. Isabella heard him coming and immediately curled into the corner, terrified he would force himself on her again.
His footsteps drew closer. Her heart hammered so hard she thought it might burst through her ribs.
The doctor had been clear. She needed rest this week. No more sleepless nights.
She had already made up her mind. If William tried to force her, she would fight back. At least for this week, she could not let him touch her.
William pulled back the covers and saw her body trembling. Normally he might not have cared, but right now he was worried about Isla's condition too.
She was Beatrice's mother, after all. He did not want anything to happen to her.
Beatrice had been so kind. If she knew from heaven that her mother was sick, she would be devastated.
"I will leave you alone for now."
William left. Isabella finally let out the breath she had been holding. She stretched out her limbs, letting her body slowly relax.
She stared up at the ceiling, her vision blurring until she thought she could almost see Beatrice's face.
"Beatrice... is that you?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Do not worry. I will save Mom. Even if it costs me my life, I will save her. You... you have to watch over us from up there. Make sure everything goes right."
Isabella closed her eyes. That night, she slept more peacefully than she had in weeks, as if Beatrice really was there beside her, keeping watch.
When she woke the next morning, Isabella felt noticeably better. There was even a lightness to her step.
The housekeeper had the staff prepare an elaborate breakfast. She ate ten eggs, drank two large glasses of milk, and finished everything else they had set out.
"For lunch, could you prepare fish, shrimp, and beef? With fresh vegetables on the side."
These were exactly the foods the doctor had emphasized on the nutrition plan.
The housekeeper's expression was complicated. She did not look like someone enjoying a meal. She looked driven, almost mechanical about it.
Someone who normally could barely finish a bowl of soup was suddenly requesting feast-sized portions. Could her stomach even handle it?
Still, she had made the request, and William had not objected, so the housekeeper agreed.
Over the next few days, William did not come home, which gave Isabella considerable relief.
She followed the doctor's orders religiously. Eat, sleep, exercise. A week later, her body showed visible improvement.
On the drive to the hospital for her follow-up tests, she prayed constantly. Please let me pass. Please let Mom get the transplant soon.
Benjamin was waiting for her at the hospital. He accompanied her to the testing area.
The waiting was always the hardest part. Isabella sat on a bench to rest when Juniper suddenly appeared.
She held out a cup of water, her face the picture of concern. "Isabella, how are you holding up?"
Isabella's body went rigid. She had almost forgotten this particular threat existed.
Juniper pressed the cup into her hands and sat down beside her, lowering her voice. "What do you think would happen if I told Godmother you are planning to donate your kidney?"
Isabella's heart dropped. She knew Juniper would absolutely do it.
She had forgotten to warn her father not to mention any of this to Juniper.
But knowing Juniper's methods, extracting information from them would not have been difficult anyway.
"What do you want?"
Juniper patted her shoulder and tucked a strand of hair behind Isabella's ear, leaning in close like an affectionate sister.
"Relax. I am not going to let her die. She needs to stay alive so she can keep tormenting you. If she died, that would be one less person who hates you."
Should Isabella be grateful?
Grateful that Juniper's only reason for not sabotaging Isla was so she could continue making Isabella's life hell.
She saw William approaching and Juniper raised her voice. "Isabella, when Godmother wakes up, I will put in a good word for you. I am sure she will let you come home."
William walked up, glanced at Juniper, then looked away.
Ever since he had mentioned marrying her, Juniper had insisted she could not bear to hurt Isabella and refused to go through with it. Neither of them had brought it up since, as if by unspoken agreement they had both decided to forget it had ever happened.
But Juniper was seething inside.
She had planned to use that opportunity to marry William. If Isabella had just agreed to the divorce, everything would have fallen into place. But Isabella had refused to cooperate, causing one disaster after another.
And William had not mentioned it again. So Juniper had been forced to swallow her rage.