Chapter 395 Good Girl
Isabella stopped in her tracks and said, "Spit it out if you got something to say."
Quentin hesitated for a sec, then said, "Nah, it's nothing. Just wondering if you're really sure about tying the knot with Seb."
"Totally." Isabella nodded.
Marriage was a big deal; she had obviously thought it through. If she had doubts before, she was now dead set on Seb after everything they'd been through.
She couldn't figure out why Quentin was bringing this up right before her wedding.
Quentin locked eyes with Isabella and said, "You know, you could do better."
Isabella raised an eyebrow, "What are you getting at?"
"Sure, with Seb, you'll be fine in Lakina. But Bella," Quentin suddenly stepped closer, his intense vibe making her catch a whiff of something odd.
Isabella's head spun. She wanted to back away, but her body wouldn't cooperate. She stood there, kinda numb, her eyes glued to Quentin's.
Quentin said, "Bella, the world's huge and amazing. If you check out Silvercrest, you might change your mind. Maybe you're head over heels for Seb now, but time changes everything. I don't want you regretting this in a few years."
Isabella took in every word Quentin said, feeling deep down he was off base, but she couldn't find the words to argue.
She just watched as Quentin stood in front of her. He raised his hand and brushed her cheek. "Nina's a prime example. You saw her stuck in a miserable marriage. Do you want that? You're still young, with endless possibilities. If you're up for it, I'll take you to Silvercrest."
Quentin's voice was low, each word clear; he was gently trying to convince her.
When he finished, he held out his hand to Isabella. "Bella, take my hand. Let me pull you out of this mess. I'll give you a better life."
Isabella looked at Quentin's pale palm, then slowly raised her hand and placed it in his.
"Good girl." Quentin grinned, satisfied, holding Isabella's hand and leading her inside.
When Isabella woke up, she was on the couch in Quentin's living room.
She opened her eyes, saw the unfamiliar room, and shot up.
Just then, Quentin walked out of the kitchen. He was in loose, comfy clothes, holding two cups. Seeing Isabella on the couch looking lost, he smiled and said, "You're up?"
Isabella watched him stroll over. Even after Quentin set the two cups on the coffee table, she couldn't remember how she ended up in his house or how she crashed in his living room.
Her mind was a total blank. When she tried to think, a dull pain hit her.
Quentin said, "Here, juice."
Isabella eyed the colorful juice in the cup, her throat feeling like it was on fire. She felt like she had just walked out of a desert, desperate for a drink.
She was super thirsty; the juice's bright color was calling her name.
Driven by instinct, Isabella reached out, but as soon as her fingers touched the cup, she snapped back to reality and pulled her hand away.
Isabella looked at Quentin. "Why am I here?"
Quentin looked surprised, genuinely puzzled.
Then he smiled and said, "You forgot?"
Quentin's question left Isabella puzzled.
Quentin smiled and said, "You came to drop off the invitation."
There was an invitation on the coffee table, with patterns and a logo that Isabella had designed herself, super familiar to her.
"And then?" she asked, frowning. Isabella felt like she had missed something big.
Quentin said, "Then you suddenly fainted. I brought you in to rest for a bit. You mumbled that you were really thirsty and wanted juice. As soon as I finished making it, you woke up."
According to Quentin, only about ten minutes had passed.
Isabella instinctively looked at the clock on the wall, and the time matched.
But why did those ten minutes feel like forever? And even if she fainted, she shouldn't feel this bad. It felt like a chunk of her memory had been wiped out.
"Bella?" Quentin's voice broke through.
Isabella suddenly stood up, looking at him warily. "It's late. I should go."
She said this but didn't leave right away; she kept staring at Quentin.
Quentin nodded, not pushing her to drink the juice or insisting she stay. He stood up and said, "I'll walk you out."
With that, Quentin turned and headed towards the door.
As soon as she stepped outside, the cool night air hit her, making Isabella shiver and her head throb even more.
Quentin followed her out. "It's cold. Want to take a coat?"
Isabella instinctively refused, "No need."
Then she rubbed her arms and took off.
After Isabella had entered her home, Quentin still stood under his own eaves, quietly gazing at her house in the shadows of the night.
After a while, Quentin's lips curled into a silent smile. "Lova, it won't be long now. Just wait for me."
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