Chapter 78
ISABELLA'S POV
Did he really forget me?
I needed to get out of here.
With a curt nod, I muttered, “I’m sorry,” and turned away, weaving through the crowded bar. Even as I moved, I could feel Ford’s gaze burning into my back, heavy with disapproval. It made my skin prickle, but I didn’t care. Not anymore.
I dropped my tray onto the bar, not bothering to steady the clatter of glasses, and hurried toward the restroom. My hands trembled, my breaths shallow and erratic. The air in the bar felt too thick, pressing against my chest like an iron weight. My vision blurred at the edges, my pulse racing. I could barely breathe. I needed my meds.
Slamming the door behind me, I collapsed against the wall of the cramped toilet stall. The dim light above flickered, casting sickly shadows against the peeling paint. My fingers dug into my bag, frantically searching until I found the small orange bottle. My breath hitched as I wrestled off the cap with shaky fingers, spilling a few pills into my palm.
I swallowed one dry, wincing as it scraped down my throat. Then I covered my face with my hands, pressing my palms against my eyes, as if that could keep the tears at bay. My heart pounded in my ears, my chest aching as I fought against the overwhelming wave of panic threatening to swallow me whole.
Why does this still affect me?
I thought I was done. I thought I had moved on—healed from him. But the moment I saw him—Levi—I felt everything crash down on me like an avalanche.
He doesn’t even remember me.
He doesn’t care.
Yet here I was—losing my mind, unraveling, barely holding on.
He’s moved on while I’m still stuck here, suffocating in my past mistakes, drowning in memories that refuse to let go. My mind spiraled, dark thoughts clawing at the fragile walls I had built around my pain. I let out a shaky breath and swallowed again, desperate to push it all back down.
I needed water.
Taking one last deep inhale, I straightened and shoved my pills back into my bag before stepping out. The bar’s neon lights flashed in hues of red and blue, making my vision blur momentarily. The noise was deafening—the chatter, the clinking of glasses, the bass-heavy music pounding like a second heartbeat in my skull. It was too much. Everything was too much.
As soon as I emerged, I spotted Kim talking to Dave. The moment her gaze landed on me, she rushed forward.
“Girl, I was about to come get you! What did you say to that handsome man in the suit?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
I tried to walk past her, but she stepped in front of me, blocking my path. She was taller, stronger—a wall I wasn’t in the mood to climb. My limbs felt heavy, like they were weighed down by lead.
“Please, can you excuse me?” I said, my voice brittle, barely holding together the raw emotion swirling inside me. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. Anything to keep myself grounded.
She didn’t budge.
I clenched my fists, my knuckles whitening as I turned toward the bar. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ford hovering near Levi, attempting to pacify him. His smile was too tight, his movements too eager, too desperate.
“Girl, you are in trouble,” Kim muttered, but I barely heard her.
With one hand, I shoved her aside and strode toward the bar, my pulse hammering in my ears.
“We never get customers like that,” Dave mused, watching Levi with a speculative glint in his eye. “He isn’t from around here. I can tell he’s from money. What’s he doing in this dump?”
Kim, beside him, was practically drooling. “What did he order? I can take care of him.” She adjusted her top slightly, offering a sultry smile that made me want to rip out her eyes.
Meanwhile, Ford was practically groveling, his usual tough act crumbling under the weight of Levi’s presence. The sight made my stomach churn. Some things never changed. Once, I had been the one to do the groveling.
The way Ford fawned over him was nauseating.
I scoffed and turned toward Dave, who had just finished his over-the-top lip-syncing performance. “I need a can of water.”
“Alright, Blondie,” he said, grinning as he handed me a cold can.
Blondie.
I hated when he called me that. He knew my hair wasn’t naturally blonde. He only said it to tease me, to get under my skin. And tonight, I was too raw, too exhausted to play along.
I popped the can open and took a long sip, but the moment the cold water hit my throat, Dave’s next words made me choke, spitting some of it back out.
“Do you know him or something?”
My heart lurched.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to steady my pulse, but it was useless. My hands still shook, my mind still reeled. Did he know? Could he tell?
Before I could form an answer, a sharp voice cut through the bar’s buzzing noise, slicing through my thoughts like a blade.
“Isabella. Come here.”
I stiffened. The entire room seemed to hush at the command.
It wasn’t Levi’s voice.
It was Ford’s.
I turned slowly, dread pooling in my stomach. My anxiety spiked, squeezing around my ribs like a vice. My breaths came faster, shallower. I could already feel the humiliation brewing, the impending storm I wasn’t ready to face.
Ford’s expression was tight, unreadable, but I knew exactly what he wanted.
He wanted me to apologize to Levi, but I didn’t think I could face him again. To look into those eyes that once worshipped me, that once promised me love, and to see nothing in them now—it would break me.
And I wasn’t sure how many more broken pieces I had left to give.
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