Isla stepped out of the room, her heart still heavy from her encounter with Ethan. She moved into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, trying to push aside the tension that hung in the air. Just as she was about to pour herself a cup of coffee, there was a sudden knock at the front door.
Curious, she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and made her way to the door. When she opened it, she was taken aback to see her brother, Liam, standing there with a look of concern on his face.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, glancing around nervously. Ethan was still in the house, and she didn’t want any confrontation.
“Can I come in?” Liam replied, his voice low as he stepped inside. But Isla quickly held his arm, stopping him.
“Liam, you need to leave. Now,” she urged, her tone firm but urgent. “Ethan is here, and I can’t have you two in the same place.”
“Why?” Liam shot back, crossing his arms defiantly. He was a notorious playboy and gambler, and Isla knew that he often stirred trouble wherever he went. It was his reckless behavior that had led to the Greyson family's misfortunes, and ultimately, to her marriage with Ethan, born out of their family’s debts.
“Just go,” she insisted, her voice rising with frustration.
“No, he’s, my brother-in-law. Why are you asking me to leave?” Liam pressed, oblivious to the storm brewing around them. Isla fought to keep her composure, knowing that Ethan could walk in at any moment.
Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open, and Ethan stepped out, his expression unreadable. Isla’s heart raced as he caught sight of Liam standing in their living room.
“What are you doing here?” Ethan’s voice was icy, and his eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze on Liam.
“Oh, brother-in-law,” Liam said, feigning enthusiasm. “Just visiting my sister! Isn’t that right, Isla?”
Isla shot Liam a warning look, desperation clawing at her. “Liam, please—”
Ethan stepped closer, tension radiating off him. “I didn’t invite you. You shouldn’t be here.”
Liam shrugged, a smug grin on his face. “Relax, Ethan. I’m just here to check on my sister. You don’t own her.”
The atmosphere grew thick with animosity, and Isla felt trapped between the two of them. “This isn’t the time for games,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “Liam, you need to leave—”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?” Liam interrupted, looking between them. “Is everything okay, Isla?”
Ethan’s expression darkened, and he stepped forward, clearly asserting his authority. “Everything is fine. You need to leave, Liam. Now.”
Liam raised an eyebrow, challenging Ethan’s demand. “Or what? You think you can intimidate me just because you have money? You’re not going to scare me away.”
“Liam!” Isla shouted, panic rising within her. “Just go, please! You don’t understand what you’re doing.”
Ethan’s jaw clenched, and the tension crackled in the air like electricity. “You don’t get to dictate what happens in my house,” he said coldly, his gaze fixed firmly on Liam.
“I'm not afraid of you, Ethan,” Liam replied defiantly, stepping closer to Isla. “I just didn’t expect that you two would get back together after what happened at your wedding—”
“Liam, please,” she said softly, looking into her brother’s eyes. “Just go.”
Liam hesitated, but the defiance in his eyes softened as he looked at Isla. As the door clicked shut behind him, Isla released a shaky breath, feeling the tension dissipate but replaced by an uneasy silence. She turned to Ethan, whose expression was a mixture of frustration and disbelief.
“Why would you let him in here?” Ethan demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
“I didn’t invite him!” Isla snapped back, her own anger bubbling to the surface. “He’s my brother, and whether you like it or not, I care about him!”
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “He’s the reason you’re in this mess in the first place! You can’t just let him waltz in here whenever he wants!”
“I can’t control him, Ethan! Just like you control me!” she shot back, the words spilling out before she could think them through.
The room fell silent, both of them breathing heavily as they processed the confrontation. Isla could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she knew that their conflict was far from over.
But as she looked at Ethan, she also felt a flicker of hope. If they could navigate this chaos together, maybe they could still find a way to move forward.
 
 
Ethan’s frustration hung in the air like a storm cloud, thick and heavy. After a tense moment, he turned sharply on his heel and strode back into the bedroom, leaving Isla standing alone in the living room.
She felt the weight of his absence, as if the air had been sucked out of the room. A mixture of anger and sadness churned within her. She knew their fight wasn’t resolved; it was merely postponed.
Isla sank onto the couch, running a hand through her hair as she tried to process everything. The confrontation with Liam had been inevitable, but she hadn’t anticipated Ethan’s reaction. It felt like every time she tried to assert herself, he pushed her away further.
She glanced around the room, the silence now deafening. The comfortable decor that once made her feel at home now felt suffocating. She thought about Liam, his reckless nature, and how it had complicated their lives. But she also thought about Ethan—the man she was married to, a man she once believed she could love despite his flaws.
But what if love wasn’t enough?
Suddenly, she stood up, determination washing over her. If Ethan wanted to play games, then she would play too. But this time, she would do it on her terms.
She needed a plan—something that could break through his walls and show him that she wouldn’t back down. It was time to stop being reactive and start being proactive.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Isla headed to the kitchen. She needed to clear her mind and focus on what she could control. Maybe cooking something would help; it always had a way of grounding her.
As she began gathering ingredients, her thoughts drifted back to Ethan. She couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath his cold exterior, he was just a man battling his own demons. Maybe if she could show him that she was willing to fight for them, he might let her in.
But first, she had to gather her strength.
Isla chopped vegetables, each slice serving as a release for her pent-up frustration. She was going to confront Ethan, not with anger, but with the intention of breaking the cycle of their misunderstandings. She wouldn’t let his walls stop her from reaching him.
As she stirred the pot on the stove, she made a silent promise to herself: she would not let fear dictate her actions anymore. If Ethan wanted to see her as weak, she would show him her strength.
And when the time came, she would make him understand that love wasn’t a weakness—it was a choice they both had to embrace.
Ethan made his way to the upscale bar where he had agreed to meet Lena. The low lights and smooth jazz filled the atmosphere with an air of sophistication that usually appealed to him. He needed a distraction, and Lena was just the ticket.
As he entered, he scanned the room, spotting her at a corner table, a glass of wine poised delicately between her fingers. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and she looked up with a welcoming smile when she noticed him.
“Ethan,” she greeted, her voice smooth and inviting. “You made it.”
“Couldn’t resist a night out,” he replied, forcing a casual demeanor despite the turmoil brewing inside him. He sat down, trying to push thoughts of Isla aside, even though they lingered like a shadow.
Lena leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with interest. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me. How’ve you been?”
Ethan shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just dealing with some… personal matters.” He knew he wasn’t being specific, but he didn’t want to delve into the chaos of his marriage right now.
She smiled knowingly. “Everyone has their issues. Sometimes it helps to unwind and escape for a bit. How about a drink?”
“Sure, why not?” he replied, feeling a mix of guilt and excitement. He watched as she signaled the waiter and ordered a couple of cocktails.
As they chatted, he found himself drawn to Lena’s easy confidence and the way she seemed to forget the weight of the world for just a moment. But deep down, he knew this was just a temporary escape, a distraction from the storm that awaited him back home.
While they were talking, Richard arrived, one of the people who helped with the gala event. “Ethan?” he said, clearly surprised by the woman I was with, knowing that Isla is my wife, which made me feel a bit embarrassed.
“Looks like you two are having a good conversation, huh?” he said, clearly putting pressure on me. I stayed quiet because I knew exactly what he was implying.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your wife that…” he said calmly, pausing to glance at Lena before continuing. “You’re with another woman.”
Ethan froze as Richard’s words hung in the air, a heavy tension filling the space. The smug expression on Richard’s face was hard to miss, and Ethan could feel his blood begin to boil beneath the surface. He knew Richard was baiting him, throwing Isla’s name out like a warning, a reminder of the life Ethan was trying to escape for just one night.
Lena, on the other hand, kept her composure, but a flicker of unease crossed her face. She glanced between the two men, sensing the undercurrent of conflict but choosing to stay silent.
Ethan forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s not what it looks like, Richard. We’re just talking.”
Richard chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Talking? Right. It’s just funny that you’d be talking to someone who’s not your wife in a place like this.” He paused, his gaze shifting toward Lena before landing back on Ethan. “Doesn’t look good, man.”
Ethan clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. He wasn’t in the mood for Richard’s judgment or his passive-aggressive remarks. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
Richard raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not here to judge. Just thought I’d say hi and remind you that your wife’s at home while you’re… out here.” His eyes glinted with something between amusement and disdain, and Ethan knew he was enjoying this too much.
Lena, sensing the tension rise, finally spoke up. “I’m sure there’s no need for drama, gentlemen. We’re just having drinks.”
Richard gave her a brief smile, but it was clear his focus was on Ethan. “Of course, no drama. I’m sure Isla would understand.” He dragged out her name intentionally, watching Ethan’s reaction closely. “After all, you’re just talking.”
Ethan’s hands curled into fists beneath the table, and for a moment, he considered telling Richard exactly where he could go. But he knew better. Any outburst would only make things worse. Isla didn’t need to be dragged into this—especially not by Richard.
“Look, I’m not here to cause problems,” Richard added, his tone softening slightly as if he sensed how far he could push Ethan. “I just thought I’d drop by and say hi. See how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine,” Ethan replied tersely. “And Isla’s fine too.”
Richard’s smile was slow, calculated. “Good to know. Well, enjoy your night. I’ll see you around.” He gave Lena a polite nod before turning and walking away, leaving Ethan and Lena in a bubble of uncomfortable silence.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Ethan stared at the spot where Richard had stood, his mind racing with a mix of irritation and guilt. He could feel Lena’s eyes on him, but he didn’t know what to say or how to explain the complicated emotions swirling inside him.
Lena broke the silence first. “That was… awkward.”
Ethan let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Is everything okay with your wife?” she asked cautiously, her voice gentle.
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”
Lena gave him a sympathetic look, but Ethan could sense the shift in her demeanor. The easygoing vibe of their conversation was gone, replaced by a tension that neither of them could ignore. The mention of Isla had changed everything.
“I should probably head home,” Ethan muttered, standing up from the table. “This was a mistake.”
Lena nodded, though her disappointment was clear. “I understand. Maybe another time?”
“Maybe,” Ethan replied, though he wasn’t sure if he meant it. His mind was already elsewhere—on Isla, on the mess his life had become, and on the fact that Richard would no doubt stir up more trouble if given the chance.
As Ethan left the bar, the cool night air hit him like a wake-up call. He had been searching for an escape, but now he realized there was no running from his problems. Sooner or later, he’d have to face them—and Isla—head-on.
Ethan drove through the quiet streets, his thoughts racing as he approached home. The conversation with Richard and the guilt he’d felt afterward weighed heavily on him. It wasn’t just about what Richard had said—it was the truth that hit him harder. His marriage to Isla was crumbling, and he couldn’t keep running away from the mess he had helped create.
As Ethan pulled into the driveway, he noticed the lights in the house were still on. Isla was likely awake, and he couldn’t shake the unease settling in his gut. This wasn’t going to be a peaceful night.
Stepping inside, he found Isla sitting at the dining table, her eyes downcast but alert. She was still dressed in her casual clothes from earlier, her expression a mix of concern and distance. It was as though she was waiting for him but had given up on the idea of having a real conversation.
“Late night?” Isla asked, her voice calm but edged with tension.
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just needed some air.”
“Air?” Isla’s eyebrow raised slightly, skepticism creeping into her tone. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”
Ethan sighed, already knowing where this was going. “Look, I don’t want to argue tonight.”
“I’m not trying to start an argument,” she said softly, her gaze locking with his.