Chapter 8
Dominic lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept properly in months]
Memories of the past few years flashed through his mind. He’d always thought he d cliff, the whole world had lost its color
care about Isabelle, but ever since she’d disappeared at the
Once again, he dialed the mumber he know by heart, his knuckles white as he gripped the phone, holding his breath.
This time, the call connected
He shot upright, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest, his fingertips trembling
“Hello?” A deep, magnetic male voice answered–unfamiliar r and grating to his ears.]].
Dominic’s blood turned to ice, his voice trembling with cold rage. “Who the hell is this?“]
The man chuckled softly, his rome openly provocative. “I’m her boyfriend.”
Dominic nearly crushed the phone in his grip, wanting nothing more than to reach through the signal and strangle the bastard. But he only managed to grit out through clenched teeth:
“Where is Isabelle? I’m her husband, Dominic Harlow.”
There was rustling on the other end, then the man asked casually, “Isabelle, some guy claiming to be your husband wants to see you
The next second, that voice he’d been dreaming about every night came through softly
I don’t know him“]
Julian’s stade deepened. “She says she doesn’t know you‘
The line went dead, leaving only the hollow sound of the dial tone
Dominic clutched the phone with white knuckles, his chest feeling like it was being carved open with a dull blade.]
She was alive. She was really alive. but she’d thrown him away
Suddenly he remembered Isabelle’s face those eyes that always held such gentle warmth, these hands that would make soup and cook for him until late at night
Even when he’d cruelly lied about being “impotent,” she’d only held him gently, her voice soft enough to break hearts: “It’s okay, I only need you.“]
No complaints, no disgust–just unconditional love and heartbreak for him.
And now, all she’d left him with was “I don’t know him.“[]
He frantically redialed, but the phone was already turned off, as if cutting off his last thread of hope completely.
It hit him then–he loved her.
But he’d realized it too fucking late
He slammed his fist into the nightstand, blood trickling between his knuckles, but he felt no pain
