CHAPTER 119

CHAPTER 119
POV ISABELA

Noah drove in silence.

But it wasn’t a normal silence.

It wasn’t comfortable.

It wasn’t light.

It was heavy.

Dense.

Loaded with everything that had happened that afternoon.

I watched his profile closely, almost studying every detail. The way his jaw was clenched. The way his eyes stayed fixed on the road was hard and distant. His hands… gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

He was hurt.

Far more than he wanted to show.

And that cut through me.

Slowly, I moved my hand to his thigh, letting my fingers glide gently in a quiet gesture of affection. A silent request for calm. An “I’m here” without needing to say it out loud.

He let out a long sigh.

Heavy.

But he didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry…” I murmured, my voice low, almost cautious.

He shook his head immediately.

“No…” his voice came out rough, weighted. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that…”

His fingers tightened even more around the wheel.

“But I can’t stand my father anymore.”

There was something broken there.

Something old.

Deep.

He swallowed hard.

“It’s strange to say that… because he’s my father…” he continued. “He’s my blood… but… after everything he’s done…”

His voice faltered for a second.

“I still feel betrayed.”

My chest tightened painfully.

That wasn’t just anger.

It was a wound.

Years of accumulated disappointment.

I leaned slightly closer to him.

“You don’t have to apologize…” I said softly. “I understand.”

And I truly did.

More than he imagined.

The car moved on in silence for a few seconds.

But it was different now.

Less rigid.

Still heavy… but with room to breathe.

I took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I noticed…” I began, slowly. “You were already acting strange earlier.”

He turned his head quickly toward me, surprised.

“Strange?”

I nodded lightly.

“Quieter… more tense…” I continued. “I thought it was anxiety about lunch… about me being there… about the whole situation…”

He let out a small sigh, looking back at the road.

“Maybe…” he murmured, without much conviction.

But I knew.

It wasn’t “maybe.”

It was everything.

The past.

His father.

The betrayal.

The pain.

And now… the fear of losing again.

A few minutes later, the car turned onto our street.

The gate opened.

And he parked.

As soon as the car stopped, Isis opened the back door quickly.

“I’m going upstairs!” she said, excited, already running out.

I couldn’t help but smile.

It was so good to see her like that.

Light.

Alive.

Happy.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” I replied.

She didn’t even look back.

She was already heading inside.

Noah turned off the engine.

The silence returned.

But now it was a different kind of silence.

More intimate.

Calmer.

He turned his body toward me.

His eyes finally meet mine.

“I’m sorry…” he said again, softer this time. “I wanted today to be a good day… no stress… no fights…”

He let out a small humorless laugh.

“But when it comes to Oliver…”

He shook his head.

“There’s no way.”

I took his hand.

Intertwining our fingers.

“It’s okay…” I said, holding his gaze. “We’ve been through much worse.”

He watched me for a few seconds.

And little by little…

The tension in his face began to fade.

A soft smile appeared.

Almost shy.

“But…” he said, shifting his tone, “I prepared something for you.”

I frowned.

“You prepared something?”

He didn’t answer.

He just opened the door and stepped out.

I watched him, curious, as he walked around to my side.

He opened my door.

He held out his hand.

And then…

He took something out of his pocket.

A blindfold.

My heart raced.

“Noah…?” I said, surprised.

He smiled.

That smile.

Calm.

Certain.

“Trust me.”

I didn’t hesitate.

I smiled back.

“Always.”

He stepped closer.

Carefully placed the blindfold over my eyes, as if I were fragile.

As if he were afraid of hurting me.

Then he took my hand.

“Come with me…”

I let him.

Completely.

I let him guide me.

Step by step.

I felt the ground beneath my feet.

Heard the door opening.

The sound echoed through the house.

We climbed the stairs.

My heart began to race.

Faster.

Stronger.

I heard another door open.

He guided me a few more steps.

Stopped.

And then…

The blindfold was removed.

I opened my eyes.

And the world seemed to stop.

The room was completely transformed.

The light was soft.

Warm.

Candles scattered around created a delicate glow on the walls.

Rose petals covered the floor.

The air felt lighter.

Slower.

More… special.

My breath caught.

My hand flew to my mouth.

My heart pounded.

And then…

My eyes fell on the bed.

And I saw it.

The petals form words.

“Will you marry me?”

My whole body froze.

My heart beat so hard it hurt.

I turned slowly.

And there he was.

On one knee.

A small box in his hands.

His eyes were shining.

Slightly nervous.

But certain.

“Isabela…” His voice came out thick with emotion. “Will you marry me?”

Tears came instantly.

Warm.

Uncontrollable.

I tried to speak.

But no words came out.

Because it wasn’t just a proposal.

It was everything we had lived.

All the pain.

All the fear.

All the fight.

Every choice.

And above all…

All the love.

“Yes…” I whispered, barely audible. “Yes… of course I will…”

His smile…

My God.

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

He stood up.

Took my hand carefully.

As if he were holding something precious.

He slid the ring onto my finger.

My hands trembled.

My heart felt completely out of control.

I took the other ring.

And placed it on his finger.

Unable to stop crying.

And then…

He pulled me closer.

And kissed me.

A deep kiss.

Intense.

Filled with everything we were.

When we pulled apart, still emotional, I let out a soft laugh in disbelief.

“How did you do this?” I asked. “I didn’t notice anything…”

He smiled, proud.

“I had help.”

I smiled immediately.

“Isis?”

He laughed.

“Of course. My official accomplice.”

And as if it had been rehearsed…

We heard footsteps in the hallway.

I looked toward the door.

And she appeared.

Standing there.

A little shy.

But smiling.

A small smile.

Sincere.

My heart filled.

I opened my arms.

“Come here…”

She hesitated for a second.

But then she came.

Slowly.

And fit into the embrace.

The three of us.

Together.

And in that moment…

It wasn’t just a marriage proposal.

It was the beginning of a new story.

Of a new family.