Chapter 95 - HEIRESS'S SECOND CHANCE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter Ninety-Five “Betrayed Heart.”

Isabella Kingston.

I do not know how much pain I can take in a day, but I guess we are about to find out even though I am hoping otherwise. Perhaps, it is a futile hope but I am desperately holding onto that fact. I am desperately hoping that I will not end up in a position where I would have to reflect back on Aurora’s words and wonder just how much I could relate to it and empathize with her.

I am hoping life won’t be that cruel to me. That Christian won’t give me a reason to suspect further, nor end up breaking my heart eventually.

“You do not look well,” Christian’s voice was soft and laced with concern as he spoke up. “You have been through a lot, why don’t you rest for a while and we will talk later, hmm?”

My heart feels heavy, as though stone as being placed on it. His words, they drift me further away from that hope I cling onto, because it shows I might just end up losing it entirely.

I shook my head, remaining firm on the outside. “I am fine, Christian.” My tone came out colder than expected, and the strings in my heart got tugged when I saw the look of hurt flashed across his features but I willed myself to stand strong and not waver till I get my answers. Turning around to face him fully, the expanse of the open garden allowed for us to speak, and notice if anyone tries to eavesdrop—no one has so far and that is one thing I am grateful for choosing this place to discuss. “Just answer my questions, will you? That is all I ask of you.”

Christian masked his earlier hurt, then nodded.

I swallowed thickly, fisting my hands by the side as my heart hammered behind my ribcage, fearing the answers I would get. Still, I forced the questions out. “I called, and texted you, countless times over the past week. Did you, or did you not see them?”

Christian did not hesitate when he answered, his eyes holding mine. “I did.” His words, they felt like a knife dug into my heart.

I took in a discrete sharp breath, my hand tightening. So, he did see it. Alright. “The first day I called, someone did pick up. It was Zara Rutherford, was it not?”

Yet again, he earnestly answered, even though that honesty seems to make my heart tear apart even more. “It was she.” He confessed.

“Were you two together?” I know it sounds stupid to ask, but I could not help it.

He nodded. “We were.” His voice was soft, almost like he is regretting it. But, why the regret exactly? Is he guilty of anything? Because I can spot regret in his tone.

“So that is why you did not answer my call,” The statement came out as a whisper, but he heard. I could not even hide the hurt in my tone, and I did not bother really. Seeing as though he wanted to say something, I decided to speak again. “Were you with her?” My voice was thick with emotion, and I could feel my eyes wanting to sting but I willed myself not to allow myself to break that easily. Taking in a sharp breath, I asked again in a clogged voice. “Were you with her this past week?”

This is the most important question to me, it is the one that would determine whether I am to allow seeds of doubt to fully plant itself in my head or whether I would continue to have faith in him.

When he hesitated to answer, I already knew what the answer was, yet I still foolishly hoped otherwise.

His answer broke my heart for the third time today. “We were,” He confessed in a small voice. “We were together this past week.”

My lips slanted into a bitter, humorless smile as I found myself nodding slowly. “So, you were with her after all,” Kissing my teeth, I held his gaze then asked. “And is this in any way a business related incident, as you told your family?” I am trying to give him all the benefits of doubt I could, so I would not be accused to jumping into conclusions based on my personal thoughts.

But it seems every answer I get only makes that assumed conclusion become clearer and even more real.

This time around, he shook his head no. “It was not,” He confessed. “It was not business related.”

I won’t lie, my heart broke into a thousand pieces right there and then, and I could feel a few tears sliding down my face. The moment he saw it, his face yawned startled, as he took a step closer to me, his hand taking a hold of mine as his desperate voice came.

“Isabella, listen to me please. It is not what you are thinking...”

“Is it not?” I whispered in a harsh tone. “Did you not leave me alone in this desperate time of mine while you spent the week with Zara?”

He looks torn, conflicted, hurt, and remorseful—all the shades of those emotions. “I did, but--”

“Did you not leave me alone, Christian? Did you not choose her company over mine? Did you not choose to abandon me while you spend the week with her alone?”

Christian shook his head, “Isabella, love, I promise it is not what it seems like.”

“How else does it seem to you, Christian when my husband, ignored me for a week while he was alone with another woman who is clearly interested in you might I add, and whom you may have been interested in as well, leaving I, your wife, alone when I desperately need you?”

“Isabella,” Christian clung onto my hand, his eyes pleading. “Please, just listen to me. I will explain it to you.”

“Will you tell me everything?” I arched a brow. “Can you guarantee that if I hear your side fully I will not be hurt? That I will not feel any more hurt than I do right now?”

He held my gaze, not saying a thing. He looks as though he wanted to give me an answer, but his hesitation was an answer as well. “Isabella, I cannot promise that.”

I nodded slowly, sniffed and blinked back my tears. I pulled my hands away from his, but he held on. I used my strength, and got out, but I know he simply let go. “I cannot do this right now,” I whispered, finding it hard to breathe. Stepping away from him, he tried to take another step towards me but I held a hand up to stop him. “I do not want to see you either Christian, just leave me alone. Give me space….I need space.”

Perhaps, I was imagining it, or maybe it is the guilt, but he seemed a bit pale through my blurry gaze as he took a step closer, attempting to take my hand but I swatted his away. He looked even more hurt, then called out. “Isabella…”

“Christian I cannot do this right now,” I shook my head. “I simply…cannot. Best if you stay away from me as well. I cannot bare to see you.”

Christian looked as though he wanted to say something, but he held himself back. Instead, he nodded, “If that is what you want,” he spoke out. “I will give you space but always remember, I am always here if you need me.”

I could not help it, his words had me letting out a bitter, sarcastic chuckle. When it died down, I held his gaze, then said in a small voice. “But the irony is, Christian that you in fact were not here,” I shook my head. “You were with someone else.”

“Isabella--”

Turning around, I walked away, wanting to be anywhere but here. I do not know where I am headed to, but I just know I want to be as far away as I possibly can be. So, I got in my car, and revved it to life before driving full speed out.