He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “Isla, have you had enough? You’re being dramatic over nothing.”
His frustration was palpable, but it didn’t matter. I’d heard enough. Without another word, I turned my back on him and limped away, leaving both him and Lucia behind in that suffocating café.
I arrived home late, the house eerily quiet. I busied myself with tidying up, trying to shake the image of Bryce and Lucia laughing together. Eventually, exhaustion overtook me, and I collapsed into bed, the events of the day swirling in my mind.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I felt a presence beside me. A gentle kiss pressed to my forehead and I heard a soft sigh. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was Bryce. But even in sleep, his touch couldn’t reach me anymore. Not like it used to.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of breakfast. I stumbled downstairs, surprised to see the table covered with food—eggs, bacon, toast, fruit—more than I’d ever seen Bryce make before.
He was standing by the stove, watching me with a hopeful look. “Are you hungry? I didn’t know what you’d want, so I made a little bit of everything.”
I sat down, picking at the food without much enthusiasm. Bryce hovered nearby, clearly waiting for me to say something.
After a long silence, he cleared his throat. “I was thinking… maybe we could have dinner with my parents this weekend?”
The words caught me off guard. Our relationship had always been a secret, something we kept hidden from the pack, from his family. And now he wanted to introduce me to them?
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I said finally, my voice void of emotion.
I was planning to reject him soon, so what was the need to meet his parents now? Besides, I didn't want to return to that disgusting place ever again!
