Chapter 4

• ISABELLA'S POV
• My mind was lost in a fog of thoughts, my fork pushing the grains of rice around my plate mindlessly. Suddenly my mother's voice resounded in the air.
• "Child, can you pass me the salt?" Her question broke my trance, and I looked up, shaking off the cobwebs in my head. With a quick nod, I reached for the salt shaker and handed it to her, feeling the prickle of embarrassment as her gaze lingered on me.
• "Are you okay, dear?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice. I let out a sigh, a little sharp too sharp and loud for the quiet of the dining room.
• I opened my mouth to brush off her concern with a quick "I'm fine," but the words wouldn't come. I shifted in my seat, the chair letting out a high-pitched squeal that echoed through the space.
• My mother cocked an eyebrow, her expression telling me that she was waiting for more. I swallowed hard, knowing that I couldn't put it off any longer.
• "I've found a partner," I blurted out, plastering a wide smile on my face. But my smile faltered when my mother's face remained impassive, her eyes hardening. My heart sank as worry began to creep in.
• My mother's fork clattered against her plate, breaking the tense silence in the room. She leaned back in her chair, her expression one of shock.
• "Just like that?" she asked, her voice quiet and disbelieving. I couldn't help but twitch my lips in a humorless smile at her reaction.
• If anything, my mother should have been thrilled. She had been pushing me to go on dates and attend every single event in the hopes that I would find my fated mate.
• But my mother's face remained serious, the corners of her lips turned down in a frown. She was staring at me like I was from another planet. But I knew the reason for her apprehension - my wolf was dormant.
• As a wolf shifter, my fate was supposed to be entwined with a mate—someone that my wolf would recognize as its other half. But my wolf was dormant, its presence as elusive as smoke. And without my wolf, I was left to roam blindly longing for my better half . It was a source of constant worry for me every single day but as the day passes, I've realized I've come to accept my fate.
• Before I could even form a response, my mother cut me off with a sharp question. "Isabella, what have you done?" she asked, her eyes boring into mine like she had just caught me red-handed in a crime.
• "I did what you wanted, mother," I protested, my brows drawing together. But my mother just sighed, dismissing my words with a wave of her hand.
• "Don't try to convince me, I know what you did," she spat, her gaze burning with accusation. "You just wanted to reassure me that you've found your fated mate, so I would give you a break."
• I couldn't help but rub my temples in frustration, trying to hide the hurt her words had caused. "Mom, I didn't rush this." I protested weakly, but her expression didn't change.
• "What if you're wrong?" Her voice turned strained, and I could see the worry etched on her face. "Isabella, you know what happened to me. What if you make the same mistake?" Her words were like a punch to the gut, reminding me of the darkness that had haunted our family for so long.
• I stood from my chair and made my way to her, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. "Mom, I won't make the same mistakes," I whispered, gently kissing her forehead.
• She let out a weak sigh, her shoulders dropping in defeat. I hated seeing her like this, haunted by the past. I squeezed her gently, careful not to hurt her. I hated seeing the past try to come back and haunt her. I wished I was stronger than this.
• I knelt down next to my mother, taking her cold hands into my own. Her skin was like paper, the bones jutting out sharply. I tried to smile reassuringly, even though my chest felt like it was being crushed. "Mom, this is different," I said, praying she would believe my lies.
• "Ryan—his name is Ryan, and we've known each other for a long time. We get along well. In a few years, we could even be best friends. You don't have to be worried." My voice sounded hollow, even to my own ears. I broke eye contact, afraid she would see the deceit in my eyes.
• When she didn't respond, I stood up, pushing her food closer to her. Gently, I stroked her cheek, trying to erase the creases of worry from her forehead. "I mean it, Mama. He's coming tomorrow evening. You'll get to know him better, and if there's a red flag, you'll see it before I do. And if you do see it, I'll call it off."
• "Fine," my mother muttered, turning her attention back to her food. The smile on my lips slipped away as she looked down, the weight of the lie heavy on my chest. I forced myself to sit down, the food on my plate suddenly unappetizing. I wanted to leave the room, but I couldn't leave her alone in her worry.
• ~~~
• Hours later, I tossed and turned in my bed, the sheets twisted around my body. My mind raced with thoughts, questions, doubts. What if I had made the wrong decision?
• What if choosing Ryan was a mistake, as my mother feared? The clock ticked away the hours, each minute feeling like an eternity. Finally, I stood up, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. I downed it in one long gulp, the cold liquid burning my throat.
• I turned off the lamp, slumping back onto the bed. The ceiling was a blur of shadows and shapes, my mind still heavy with worry. I knew what I had to do.
• I had to examine Ryan, to make sure he wasn't hiding something. But what if I had already made a mistake? What if I had made a terrible mistake by letting him mark me, and what if I couldn't escape now he had claimed me as his after finding out he wasn't exactly what he claimed to be?
• That thought sent a chill through my body, the bedsheets suddenly too thin to keep out the cold.
• "I'll divorce him," I sat up abruptly, as I muttered, trying to reassure myself. "I'll divorce him if he ever messes me up after Mom's gone. And that's it."
• The thought of my mother's death, the one that I had been desperately trying to push out of my mind, now invaded my thoughts. I clutched at the fabric of my nightgown, trying to hold myself together as the tears began to fall.
• The pain hit me like a physical blow, as if a thousand needles are pricking at my eyes. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to contain the hurt that was spreading through my body.
• I felt a weight in my chest that I couldn't shake. It was a mix of grief, fear, and loneliness, a feeling that was all too familiar. I held myself tighter, trying to block out the thoughts of losing my mother, of being alone in the world, of being trapped in a life that I couldn't escape from.
• The sudden ring of my phone startled me, my heart leaping into my throat. I scrambled out of bed, swiping a hand across my tear-stained cheeks before answering the call. My eyes widened and then dimmed as I saw Ryan's name flashing on the screen. I sniffled.
• "Hey," he said, his voice like gravel in the dark. I hated how much I liked the sound of it.
• "Hey," I replied, my voice wavering slightly. I could feel my cheeks heating, my fingers tangling in my hair while I tried to stop the butterflies roaming in my belly.
• What the hell was wrong with me?
• His voice was like honey and sandpaper, making my heart thump in my chest. "Did I wake you?" he asked, his voice a low purr. I could feel my cheeks burning, my hand shaky as I held the phone.
• "Not really," I squeaked, feeling utterly ridiculous. "You need something?" I tried to sound nonchalant, but I knew I was failing miserably.
• The silence was punctuated by the sound of shuffling and something falling.
• I leaned in closer, straining to hear, but the phone line was silent.
• "I wanted to ask about your mother's preferences," he said finally, his voice terse. "What kind of gifts does she like?" Do you think you could text me some ideas?"
• I swallowed hard, my mind racing.
• "I just want to make a good impression," he continued, his voice serious. "I need to know what she likes."
• I cleared my throat, leaning away from the dresser. "Listen, Ryan. There's something else we need to talk about. I lied to my mom," I lowered my voice. "I told her we've known each other for years. You can't slip up."
• "Got it," he replied after a few seconds.
• "Good night," I said, hanging up the phone. I fell back into bed, shutting my eyes immediately so I could sleep off.
• “Wait!"
• I paused, my breathing slowing as I anticipated his next words. "Are you okay? You seem far away, even though you're just on the other end of the line. I want you to know that whatever it is, I'm here for you. And I mean that. Even if you just need someone to talk to, or someone to listen. You're not alone now, you know.”
• His words melted my heart instantly and I drew in a quick breath so my eyes didn't dare try to sting before muttering a "Thank you, you're nice. I hope you sleep well.” before ending the call, exhaling a tired sigh and letting my shoulders finally slump.
• ~~~
• Is this his house?” Mama asked, her voice uncertain as we pulled up to a cozy studio apartment. My eyes widened, my fingers tapping at my phone as I double-checked the address. It was right. This was his place.
• “Yes, Mama,” I said, swallowing hard as I led her to the front door. “This is it.” I pressed the doorbell, my heart pounding.
• The door swung open, revealing Ryan, his hair slicked back like a movie star, a towel around his neck and nothing but a thin shirt clinging to his chest. My throat turned to sand, my mother’s mouth hanging open like a fish out of water.
• He froze, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. “Oh!” he blurted out, his voice a pitch higher than normal. “I wasn’t expecting—”
• He clamped his mouth shut, his face turning beet-red.
• My mother cleared her throat, her gaze fixed firmly on the carpet. “I’ll wait outside,” she mumbled.
• “No, please, come in,” Ryan insisted, his voice cracking as he gently ushered my mother inside. Her eyes bulged like two ping-pong balls, while I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from bursting into laughter.
• He led her deeper into the house, while I trailed behind them like a ghost.
• His place was surprisingly cozy, a small but tidy studio that felt like a hug in a room. There was a big, squishy couch that looked like the perfect spot for reading or cuddling.
• Ryan cleared his throat, his voice growing a shade more confident as he turned to my mother. “Can I get you anything? A drink? Some water?”
• My mother looked around, her gaze assessing the room. “This is a nice place. Very…homey.”
• Ryan smiled. “Thanks,” he said. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
• My eyes kept darting between Ryan and my mother, my eyes fixed on their interaction like a hawk. I saw Ryan lay several gifts at my mother's feet, while Mama beamed, patting his back like she had known him for a long time.
• "You're truly a gentleman," she praised, and I watched as a slow, sly grin spread across Ryan's face, like a cat who had caught the cream.
• "Thank you, ma'am," he replied, a hint of smugness in his voice.
• A small, uncomfortable silence filled the room, and I shifted in my seat. But it was my mother who broke the silence, "Tell me, child, where did you meet my daughter?"
• "We met at a restaurant," I blurted out, my voice quick and sharp, not wanting Ryan to mess things up.
• But, as if on cue, he spoke at the same moment, his voice just as loud and confident as mine.
• "At a library!"
• Shit!
• My heart stopped in my chest as I watched the expression on my mother's face shift, her smile melting away. Everywhere turned silent.