15 - I refuse to believe that she made a fool of me.

***POV NOAH***

I parked the car in the motel's private garage and turned off the ignition key. I took the shopping bag from the passenger seat and got out of the car, closing the door. I activated the alarm and pressed the button to close the electric gate. I opened the door that led into the room and, as always, chose the best room available.

I wanted to go out for dinner, to a nightclub, I don't know, I wanted something like that, but Isabela insisted that we be discreet, and she chose this place.

It's a luxury motel, outside the city.

She's afraid that people will see us together and start spreading rumors.

She didn't even let me pick her up from her house; she said we'd meet here.

I preferred not to insist on or contradict her; what if she changed her mind?

I was quite surprised when I received her message earlier today. I swore she didn't even want to see me anymore... I was about to go to her house to beg to have her back.

I'm glad she decided to see me today.

My heart aches with longing.

Could I be in love?

I don't know.

But what I can say for sure is that I've never felt this way before. I was going crazy without an answer from her...

I put the bag with the wine on the table, which was decorated with candles and red rose petals at my request. I looked around the whole environment and smiled contentedly.

I sat on the edge of the bed to wait for her. We arranged to meet at 10:00 PM; it's already past the time, but I understand that women are usually late. But I can't help feeling nervous.

Heart racing.

Sweaty hands.

Trembling legs.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket, unlocked it, and opened the messaging app, going to my conversation with Isabela. She was online 3 hours ago...

Should I send a message? Or will I seem desperate?

I impatiently shook my leg as I looked at our conversation.

I got up from the bed and walked around the room to the bathroom, where there was a huge whirlpool tub. I started filling the tub while she hadn't arrived.

It's 10:30 PM and she's still not here.

It's 11:00 PM and she's still not here.

It's 11:30 PM and I'm still waiting for her.

I've lost count of how many messages I've sent and how many times I've called, but there's been no reply.

"Damn it," I said, wiping my hand across my face nervously.

I refuse to believe that she's played me for a fool.

"Damn, I've been waiting for her for two hours..."

I picked up my keys from the counter, looked around this motel room one more time and shook my head. My heart was pounding; it was tight. I was really upset!

I opened the door to leave when someone knocked on the electric gate. I pressed the button on the wall and the gate opened. I watched Isabela's car enter the premises, arms crossed, just watching.

The car turned off, and it wasn't long before she stepped out of the vehicle, stealing all my breath away.

She was wearing a short red dress, which accentuated all her curves, that's for sure. I raised my eyes to her face and all my anger and frustration disappeared when I saw her downcast expression.

I walked quickly towards her, she closed the door and leaned against the car. I put my hands on the car near her head. I looked into her tear-filled eyes.

"What happened?" I asked quietly, but loud enough for her to hear.

Isabela sighed, avoiding eye contact with my face, looking at my arm and biting her lip in a futile attempt to control her tears.

"Hey," I held her face with my hands, making her look me in the eye, and a tear rolled down her cheek, breaking my heart. It was terrible to see her like this. "Look at me," I asked when she closed her eyes to avoid looking at me. "Look at me, my beauty," I asked again. She opened her eyes and looked at me. I could feel all her sadness through them. "What happened?" I asked.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said in a choked voice.

"To hell with being late. I want to know what happened to make you like this!"

"My daughter hates me," she confessed, her crying becoming even more intense and tears streaming endlessly from her eyes. I looked at her, not knowing what to do or say. I just wanted to take away her pain.

"Don't say that," I ran my thumb over her face, wiping away the tears, "she doesn't hate you."

"You say that because you didn't see the way she looked at me," she sniffled amidst her tears, "I'm a terrible mother!"

"Don't say that. You're the best mother in the world, damn it. You're a wonderful mother!"

I felt her arms go around my waist and her head hit my chest as she hugged me tightly, crying even more. I lifted my hand and stroked her blonde hair as she calmed down in my arms. 

“I'm sorry," she said, pulling away from me and wiping her face so as not to leave any traces of tears. “I've ruined our night...”

“Our night has only just begun.”

She looked at me for a few seconds and smiled.

“Do you want to tell me what happened? Did you and Isis fight?” I asked.

Isabela sighed and walked away from me into the bedroom, leaving me behind. I followed her and grabbed her from behind, squeezing her waist.

“Did you like it?” I asked when I saw her looking around the room.

"Yes," she replied, sitting on the bed and looking at me. "This week hasn't been easy for me. My ex-husband is on my case, he wants to reconcile our marriage no matter what... I'm an all-or-nothing kind of person... if I make a decision, it's final. It took me a long time to decide to leave, and now that I have, I'm not going back. I lived through a damn unhappy marriage. I was betrayed in so many ways that I can't even find the words. It was an abusive, toxic relationship. I was raised to be the perfect wife, but they forgot that there's no one perfect in this damn world. I make mistakes like everyone else, but he never accepted my faults. I had to be perfect in everything, all the time."

She spoke non-stop as more and more tears streamed down her face.

I didn't know her ex-husband, but I already hated him for making her cry like this.

“Now that wretch is trying to use our daughter to get me back with him, Isis has always been attached to her father. He was a terrible husband, but he was always good to my daughter. A great father...He's filling my daughter's head with things; she thinks I'm the worst person in the world and responsible for destroying 'the perfect family.” I was ready to come here at 9:30 when he showed up at the house with my daughter. He said he wanted to do a family program like old times,” she laughed bitterly. “I was ready to go out, and he asked me where I was going and with whom. I'm a terrible liar, and I fumbled my answer. He knew I was going to meet someone and had the nerve to tell Isis that I was going to meet my lover.”

“Isa,” I knelt in front of her, wiping her pretty face, “Don't cry anymore, my angel. He doesn't deserve your tears!”

“I'm not crying for him; it's the whole thing, you know?”

“I know, but it breaks my heart to see you like this... Shall we relax?” I asked, looking into her eyes, waiting for confirmation, which soon came, and she nodded.

I smiled at her and held her little foot, taking off her sandal and kissing it. I did the same with the other shoe. I began a slow massage of her feet, observing her beautiful white nails.

"You're good at that," she complimented me. I lifted my gaze to look at her and she was staring at me intensely.

"I'm good at everything I set out to do," I replied.

"Wow, your ego is huge," she joked.

"I'm going to show you something else huge." I stood up quickly and walked towards her, eager to kill this desire that was killing me.