***POV ISABELA***
I'm afraid, of getting hurt again, of suffering again, of making mistakes again, of losing again, of crying again, of deceiving myself again, of liking again, of getting involved again, of not being able to forget again, of deluding myself again, of trying again, of fighting again, of being foolish again, of loving again...
“You're lost in thought,” I'm awakened from my reverie by a snap of fingers in front of my face.
I stare at the person in front of me, sighing.
“What's wrong?” I asked, adjusting myself on the couch.
“Reply to his message, go talk and sort things out soon!” My friend shook my shoulder “I can't stand seeing you suffer anymore.”
“I'm not suffering!” I crossed my arms.
“But you're very pensive, and your silence is starting to irritate me.” He gets up angrily “You want to reply to that message, I know it!” He accused.
“I can't...”
“What's stopping you?”
“Everything.” I sighed tired of all my thoughts “We have several things that won't work out, it will never be right. I don't want to suffer.”
“See? You're only thinking of the worst!!! Think about the good things too, how he makes you feel is one of them."
I looked at my friend, watching him take off his shirt and throw it on the sofa next to me.
“Wow, it's so hot!” He complained.
“It's been a week since he sent me the message that he needed to talk, what am I going to send him now? Maybe he'd already given up, because he didn't send anything else.”
“Ala, you're making excuses again,” he said without patience. “Answer this fucking message, if he doesn't, fine, you pretend you never answered and get on with your life.”
“Really?”
“Sir, you sound like those silly teenage girls who have never dated or messaged a boy.”
“I feel this way when it comes to him and it makes me so angry, on an extreme level,” I say furiously.
It was the purest truth.
When it comes to Noah, I feel like a teenager again. I even become unresponsive around him, mesmerized.
What a load of crap.
I hate feeling like that.
I picked up my cell phone from beside me on the sofa and unlocked it, going to the conversation with him. Our first and last cell phone conversation was him asking to see me, he wanted to talk. I didn't reply. But all week I've been going into this conversation. I've written a thousand replies and deleted them all.
What can I do if I'm afraid?
This fear stops me, I can't answer him.
“I think it's best to leave things as they are.” I answered, blocking my cell phone once again and putting it back by my side.
I closed my eyes and massaged my temples, I had a terrible headache.
"Where's Isis?" he asked, breaking the silence and sitting down next to me, almost on top of my cell phone, giving me a reproachful look.
"She's at her father's, she's staying there for the week." I replied.
"Has he stopped bothering you? If the answer is no, I said, I can take care of it. He and my fist can talk!" he replied.
I ended up laughing at his words. I love this friend of mine.
"Last night he came to pick up Isis and brought it up again. In front of Isis now. And she thinks I'm the wrong one, the black sheep". I sighed sadly.
"You need to tell her the truth!"
"I can't," I looked at my friend, his eyes were on my face. "I'd rather she thought I was the worst person in the world than spoil her view of her father. He's always been her hero... I don't want her to see that it was all a sham."
"He may be a good father, but as a husband he's been garbage!" I followed his movements to see what he would do. He unlocked his cell phone and began typing frantically. "You can't look the wrong way when you're the most innocent."
"Isis is the most innocent. When you're a father, maybe you'll understand a little. Maybe not 100%, because a mother's feelings are unique, but every father who values his daughter's mental health would think the same way I do... I don't want to destroy her.
"Look, honestly," he snorted and looked at me again with a suspicious look on his face. "Now you have an commitment, tonight at 10pm," he said, biting his lip.
I opened my eyes wide in shock.
"What do you mean?" I asked, picking up my cell phone, unlocking it and entering the messaging app just as a message arrived from Noah. Oh my God!
‘I'm glad you replied, even after leaving me talking to myself for a week.’
“You didn't do that,” I turned my face to look at my friend, and he smiled. “Alex!!!” I looked at him reproachfully.
“What?” he stood up, crossing his arms as he stopped in front of me “I just helped you.”
“I didn't ask for your help.”
“I know, but that's what friends are for. To help even without being asked. I've known you long enough to know that you want to go and talk to him but you're afraid. I know you and I know that you're very fearful. You're afraid of getting hurt, of suffering...”
I opened my mouth to answer him, but he didn't give me time to respond. Alex knelt down in front of me, standing at my height.
“Don't be afraid. Allow yourself, woman. Go live, be happy! You've spent 15 years in an unhappy life, it's never too late to start again, your chance is now. I'm not telling you to get into a relationship with your sports star, but allow yourself to. If you want to meet him, go. If you want to go out drinking, go. If you want to go dancing, go. I just want you to be happy!”
My eyes watered and I wanted to cry looking at my friend. He's so necessary.
“Thank you," I said, my voice breaking. He raised his hand and wiped the tears that insisted on falling from my eyes.
“Will you?” He asked.
“I'll go," I sighed, suppressing a smile.
The thought of seeing Noah again makes me nervous. My hands ring, my heart races...
God...
I look like a teenager!
"Let's go pick out your clothes," said Alex excitedly. He seemed very excited about the idea me meet Noah.
"It's still early," I replied, picking up my cell phone again and wondering whether or not I should send him a reply. "He said he was glad I'd replied to him, should I send him something?" I asked my friend.
Alex started laughing and sat down on the floor, I didn't understand what was so funny.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"You really look like a silly teenager when it comes to him, you even blush!" He pointed at me, still laughing.
"What's so funny? It's not my fault!" I said angrily.
"I know, but on the other hand, we're talking about Noah Cooper, who wouldn't be like that for him?" he questioned.
"Thanks for reminding me that every woman in town would die to be with him."
"Jealousy?"
"Never."
Again, Alex started laughing, his face turning red with laughter.
"Sorry," he requested, pulling himself together, "can you answer him… Say you were busy so you didn't respond sooner.
I opened Noah's message and typed the message to him:
‘I'm sorry I disappeared, I've been busy these days.’
I pressed send and the answer came back.
‘Are you all right?’
I smiled at his concern and replied quickly:
‘Yes.’
'I'm glad. I miss your smell...'
I stared at his message, not knowing what to say. I missed you too.
I don't know where I got the courage, but I replied to his message on a tremendous impulse.
‘Today we will end the longing...’