Chapter 142
ISABELLA
By the time we returned home, it was nearly 5 p.m. I didn’t wait.
The moment the car stopped, I threw open the door and stepped out, not once looking back at Levi. Not at him. Not at the weight of what he had almost given me—and then taken away.
He’d been on his phone the entire ride. If he wasn’t making calls, he was texting. It seemed he had a lot of work to do, so I couldn’t understand why he even came with me in the first place. If it wasn’t to help, was it just to frustrate me?
If I said anything to him, I’d shatter. I...
And yet, even in all the pain, a part of me wanted to thank him. He had spent the entire day with me. Silent. Present. That had to count for something, didn’t it? Even if we weren’t speaking. Even if I hated how easily he could walk away.
He’d left work—real responsibilities—to be there with me. So I told myself I should be grateful. At least for that. It was a world I didn’t belong to, one that would’ve left me in a state of panic if he hadn’t been quietly lingering in the background.
The chauffeur moved quickly to gather the bags, no longer wearing the haughty smirk from earlier. His posture was efficient now. Deferential. His arms were loaded with luxury.
Matt answered the door before I even had the chance to knock—that was after I’d nearly rung the bell and remembered that things were broken now. Just like this house. Just like me.
Caroline stood behind him. Both of them froze as bag after bag entered the house in waves, turning the small sitting room into what looked like a boutique. Their jaws dropped.
“Will you help me,” I asked, breathless, “or are you just going to gawk?”
I’d insisted on carrying what I could—arms heavy, wrists aching. But I wasn’t going back to that car. I didn’t want to see Levi again. Not tonight.
Matt blinked, finally stepping forward and grabbing a few bags from me as I staggered past the doorway.
“Where did you get all these?” he asked.
“The driver,” I said vaguely, though we both knew I didn’t mean him.
When the chauffeur finally finished unloading, I gave him a quiet nod in thanks. He paused, just a second too long, watching me like I was a puzzle missing a corner piece. I turned away.
“Caroline!” Matt shouted suddenly.
I winced. “She’s right there—”
“Caroline!” he yelled again, louder, already dropping his bags.
She emerged from the hallway, eyes going wide as she took in the designer explosion scattered across our modest sitting room.
“Whoa,” she whispered. “How did you get all this?”
Her gaze locked onto a sleek Dolce & Gabbana bag like it might vanish if she blinked too hard.
“Levi got it all,” I said, collapsing onto the couch. “He arranged everything. I just... showed up.”
Their mouths fell open, cartoon-style.
“I also got things for both of you,” I added, tucking my legs beneath me. “Levi said you have to look good for the engagement party tomorrow.”
The silence that followed was electric.
Then Caroline shrieked.
And for the first time all day, I smiled without guilt.
“So soon?!” she gasped, eyes wide, clutching one of the bags like it contained actual treasure.
Matt folded his arms. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early?”
“Honestly?” I murmured. “I just want to get it over with.”
This entire charade—this engagement—was a lie built on threats and sacrifice. It was a ticking bomb. I just wanted it to explode already, so I could clean up the mess and go back to whatever life I had left.
“But I haven’t even told my friends,” Matt complained, rummaging through the bags. His eyes lit up when he found the black blazer I’d picked out. He held it against his chest and turned to the hallway mirror, already imagining himself in the spotlight.
I snorted. “Do you really want those hooligans at a classy event? Trying to get disowned before the wedding even happens?”
Caroline gasped, scandalized.
“You’re becoming too troublesome,” Matt retorted, lunging at her. She squealed and darted behind the couch, laughter echoing off the walls.
And just like that, something in my chest unknotted. The weight didn’t disappear, but it felt lighter.
I smiled—really smiled.
This was my chaos. My family. My safe space in a world that demanded too much from me.
Watching them like this made it all feel worth it. The deal. The lie. The suffocating arrangement I’d signed myself into.
I would do anything for them.
Caroline launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Her scent—shampoo and strawberry lip balm—hit me like a memory. The first time she’d ever hugged me like a sister, I’d been breaking down. And she’d just held me.
“You better tell your hooligan friends to behave,” I warned Matt over her shoulder, my tone playful. “Or I’ll have them tossed out.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
Caroline giggled. “You better not disrespect the future wife of a multi-billionaire.”
Matt rolled his eyes, pulling a pair of designer loafers from a box. “You two are insufferable.”
“Flattery,” I said, “will get you nowhere.”
We all collapsed onto the plush rug, surrounded by a sea of bags and boxes. Caroline laid out jewelry and accessories, her eyes sparkling. Matt strutted around in his new shoes like he was on a Milan runway.
It was loud. It was unfiltered. It was perfect.
Everything I’d been carrying—the secrets, the bargain, the ghost of Levi’s almost-kiss—fell away.
Here, in this messy little house, surrounded by laughter and love, I remembered why I’d agreed to all of it.
And for just a little while... It didn’t feel like a burden.
It felt like a gift.
At least, until the reality crept back in.
Tomorrow, I’d be walking into a world I didn’t fully understand. And I’d have to play pretend. Smile on cue. Nod in the right places. Perform.
Caroline gasped as she opened the box holding my engagement gown.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “This is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed softly, my fingers brushing the delicate fabric. “Wait until you see my wedding gown,” I told her with a smile.
It was being delivered the day before the ceremony, and honestly—I couldn’t wait.
If there was anything I was looking forward to about the wedding... it was that gown.
Just that gown.
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