Chapter 112

ISABELLA
Levi drove us home in silence, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty but dense, like a thick fog pressing against the windows, wrapping itself around every word that went unspoken. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but heavy, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. Even Caroline, usually a chatterbox with a million questions, stayed quiet, her gaze fixed out the window as the city lights flickered past in a muted blur.
Levi broke the silence only once, pulling out his phone with calm efficiency. His voice was low and clipped as he called his driver, the one who had dropped off the Ferrari earlier that afternoon. There was no need to mention the address. He did not have to. The man already knew exactly where to come.
When we pulled up to my apartment complex, the car engine died and Levi was already opening his door. He stepped out, tall and poised, offering a curt wave that was more a formality than an invitation. Then he vanished into the sleek black interior of his waiting car without another word.
The moment his taillights disappeared into the night, Caroline turned toward me, her eyes lighting up with that signature spark of curiosity she always had when something new or secret was on the table.
“So… who is he? Your new boyfriend?” Her voice cut through the quiet. No preamble, just pure Caroline directness.
I could not help but smile, a small curve tugging at my lips despite the exhaustion dragging at my limbs. Today had been draining in more ways than one, but Levi—his calm, his quiet attentiveness—had left a kind of warmth glowing inside me, something I had not expected to feel nor could I deny.
“Well... he’s a long story,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I definitely looked a mess—disheveled and worn out. I desperately needed to freshen up and change into something comfortable, like my favorite jeans and a soft shirt.
Caroline raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “A long story? Just how long is he?”
I blinked, caught off guard by the innocent phrasing. Then laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me, breaking free before I could stop it. Just how long… The words echoed in my mind with an unintended double meaning. Poor Caroline did not even realize what she had said.
I quickly tried to stifle my laughter, forcing a serious face. No dirty thoughts, Isabella. Not now. But after the dirty moments in Levi’s office earlier today, my mind was anything but cooperative.
Caroline cocked her head, utterly perplexed. “What’s so funny?”
Her genuine confusion only made it harder to hold back. I nearly doubled over, laughter spilling forth in quiet bursts until tears prickled the corners of my eyes. But then the sharp reminder of reality settled in. Matt was still lying in the hospital, fragile and waiting, and the moment sobered.
“There’s a lot to explain,” I said softly, wiping at my eyes. “And I don’t want to start now only to have to repeat it all again to Matt later. I think it will be easier if I introduce you both to him, and then I can explain everything at once.”
Caroline groaned, dropping her head into her hands dramatically. “I don’t have that kind of patience. Why don’t you just tell me now, and I’ll fill Matt in?”
I shook my head, already anticipating the barrage of questions. “You know him. He will have a thousand questions, and you won’t be able to answer them all.”
She sighed, defeated but still cheeky. “Fine. You’re impossible.”
“Good girl,” I teased, nudging her with my elbow. “Now let’s grab our stuff. Matt needs us.”
Inside the apartment, we moved quickly—freshening up and tossing essentials into a single backpack. By the time we were done, it was already 9:00 p.m., and outside the streets were cloaked in darkness. The streetlights here flickered dimly, casting long shadows that made everything feel unfamiliar and a little uneasy.
Caroline, of course, immediately protested when I handed her the backpack, insisting she was far too weak to carry it—despite having demolished half a pizza earlier and grilled me like a detective all through dinner.
As we stepped out again, Caroline fired one last question over her shoulder, voice playful but sharp. “Oh, and when you finally explain everything, don’t forget to tell us where that new car came from. By the way, we never really bought your first explanation.”
I froze on the doorstep, a slow exhale escaping me. Of course she noticed. Of course they did. Both Caroline and Matt were protective—just like I was with them—and I could not blame them for their suspicion. I just was not ready to unravel my history with Levi yet. Not when I had not even begun to sort out what I felt for him now.
“I wasn’t lying,” I said gently, choosing my words carefully. “I just didn’t tell you the full truth about the new job.”
“So... we get to know when you’re ready?” Caroline asked, her voice lighter but patient.
“Caroline, you’re starting to wear me down.”
She put a hand to her chest with mock offense. “Don’t yell at me.”
With a theatrical huff, she marched to the car, yanked the door open, and slid inside. A twinge of guilt gnawed at me. I hadn’t meant to snap—not at her. She was the kind of person who cried at Christmas commercials, and here I was, making her sulk.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I caught her in the rearview mirror. No tears this time, just a blank, unreadable expression.
“Caroline...” My voice softened, breaking the quiet once more. “I didn’t mean to snap. Today has been a lot—too much, really. I’ve got so much on my mind, but that’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”
She did not answer immediately. I started the car, the engine’s soft purr filling the space between us. When I glanced back again, she met my eyes at last.
“You’re all grown up now,” I murmured, the weight of that phrase settling between us. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”
A small, genuine smile curved her lips. “I’m not mad. Let’s just go.”
I returned the smile and pulled out onto the road. For a fleeting moment, it felt like maybe, just maybe, things would finally settle into something calm.
But then her question echoed again in my mind. Just how long is he?
And I laughed. A real, unrestrained laugh that shook me in the quiet of the car, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles went white.
I swear, I might be losing my mind.