Strings Attached

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The anger in my voice was directed at that obnoxious old hag who was a pathetic excuse for a mother, but I was the last person who had any right to throw accusations at anyone. Elisa Walsh might have played games and forced both of us into this marriage for her own financial benefit, but she wasn't there in that hotel when I forced myself on Isabelle. Even the fact that she had taunted me with Cora's illness during the ceremony didn't hold any importance. I was the more experienced party in this marriage by far and I should have known better than to demand a frightened young girl to fulfill her marital duties for the sake of satiating my rage and wounded pride. Isabelle's eyes searched mine and her hesitant expression made me think of our wedding night. I remembered how she begged me not to hurt her. I remembered what I now knew was the fear in her eyes of seeing a naked man for the first time in her life. I remembered her desperation and her tears. At last, I remembered how I didn't give a damn about any of those things and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. I parted my lips with the intention to make Isabelle realize she hadn't deserved any of the things that had happened to her, but she preceded me and said the last thing I expected to hear.

"What my mother did is inexcusable, but like you once said...I am the one who said the words at the altar. I am the one who was too weak to fight and stand up for myself so in the end, I am the one to be blamed for everything that happened." She scowled at herself in an emotionless voice, thinking it was her fucking fault every single person who should have protected her ended up hurting her and letting her down.

"No!" I asserted harshly and stared at her with naked disbelief. "You hold none of the guilt, Isabelle. None."

The memories of all the ugliness Isabelle had to go through infiltrated my mind and I felt so much compassion for her. This kind caring creature received so little love in her life that it was devastating to even think about it. I stared at her with transparent affection because I needed her to understand things were about to change and they would get better. All she had to do was open her heart one more time and dare to be vulnerable.

"You are a nineteen year old girl that was forced into a game you were by no means equipped to play. I understand that now and...I wish I saw it sooner," I murmured in a light voice and a painful lump constricted my throat when I saw her eyes fill with a mist of tears. "I hate to see you like this. I wish... I wish I could have been that man for you. I wish I gave you a fairytale instead of nightmares," I uncovered but a small fraction of what I felt and Isabelle's face settled into a grimace of pain.

"Don't..." she choked out and closed her eyes like she was fighting not to break down in front of me. "Please don't pretend that you care."

Wanting to demonstrate my support in her moment of weakness, I pulled her closer to me and simply held her in my embrace. When she relaxed a little, I kissed the top of her head and buried my nose in the golden strands of her hair, inhaling its intoxicating flowery scent.

"What makes you think that I have to pretend?" I asked in a whisper.

Isabelle opened her eyes and stared at me like she couldn't believe what I had asked her. You know me, angel. I'm not kind. I'm not courteous. I never fucking pretend.

Something shifted in the atmosphere around us and I couldn't hold back anymore. There were so many emotions bursting inside of me, demanding me to give in to this magnetic force that pulled me towards her. So I pulled her closer...and closer...until we were pressed against each other like a single unit. The scent of her and the feeling of having her body so close to mine was inexplicable...sacred.

Isabelle still didn't say a word, but continued gazing at me with uncertainty. Perhaps she needed me to spell it out for her. Perhaps she needed me to whisper it agaist the soft skin of her lips. I would...

"I care," I breathed the words and suddenly I was relieved of an immense burden. The sensation was so powerful that I felt an immediate need to say it again. "I care about you, Isabelle."

For the first time in my life, I realized that I felt truly free as I stared into those wide chocolate eyes that reflected the very innocence and purity of Isabelle's soul. I couldn't hide it any longer. I had to let her know I was just as broken. I needed her to forgive me. I needed her to heal me. I needed her to love me back.

I pulled her into an even tighter embrace and our breaths simultaneously picked up a fast rhythm. Isabelle seemed overwhelmed as I took hold of her hand and slowly leaned it against my burning chest. She closed her eyes, feeling the power of my rapid heartbeat against the palm of her hand. When she opened her eyes again and looked up at me, the beating of my heart became even faster and more powerful. I gently cupped her face and repeated the words, wanting to convince her they were true.

"I care." My voice was a gentle, reassuring whisper.

Then, that magnetic force took over and I brought my lips an inch from hers, pausing for a moment. Isabelle started breathing nervously and I sensed that I was about to give her her first kiss. I parted my lips and my heart warmed at the sight of my fragile little wife who was confused by these feelings she didn't understand, but she didn't pull away from me. Instead, she remained perfectly still, waiting to be kissed...by me. I brought my lips just an inch closer and she closed her eyes, slightly parting her lips. Her warm breath touched my face and an electric shiver rushed through my entire body. I love you, Isabelle...I thought as I brushed my lips against hers. The contact made goose bumps erupt all over my skin and I was ready to deepen the kiss with my tongue, but suddenly Isabelle got startled and moved away from me in what I recognized was fear.

The burden returned right back on my chest and it was twice as heavy than before. I closed my eyes, trying to stay composed; trying to breathe through the painful lump in my throat. When I looked at Isabelle again, her eyes were filled with regret. It wasn't her fault we had to walk this difficult path—it was mine. I opened my mouth to say something, but I gave up and just rolled over and stared at the ceiling for the rest of the night. No matter how hard I tried to fix things, we just couldn't move forward and I was scared...What if it was too late? What if Isabelle never came to love me back?

***

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For those of you who prefer the old version of Virtue&Vanity or are interested in reading it for comparrison, I have brought it back. Happy reading!! :) <3

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