*A/N: Since it's been AGES since I've updated last, you may want to read the last chapter or two to remind yourself what's been happening.*
Warning - there's a very, very brief mention of suicide in this chapter.
ISABELLA
It only takes a moment for everything to change. It takes one second before the world that you came to now, understand, and adjust to comes crashing down around you.
That's how I felt when everything happened - when Harry's life was potentially taken away, and I had lost our child.
I felt like the world that I had created, the world that I allowed myself to be in, had crashed down around me. It is quite possibly the worst feeling anyone could ever feel. I had tried so hard to become a strong person. To become my own Superwoman, but instead, I fell. I allowed my mind to run rampant in the pit of my agony and self-pity, only to lose myself in it all.
I know that it wasn't fair to Harry. I know that my mood swings and distant behaviour was doing nothing to help him get better. We were both grieving the lost of what could have been. But instead of working together as a team, I ditched him to fight on his own as I sat on the sidelines.
What happened next only made sense. Harry had talked me into it and I knew deep down that I needed to do it in order to save our relationship. I also needed to be strong - in mind and spirit, if I wanted to fight my father.
Therapy seemed like the worst possible thing to do. Maybe it was the awful connotation that came with it, or the stigma that society created, but I wasn't so gong-ho with the idea. We fought, argued, and yelled every day for two weeks. Maybe it's because I'm stubborn. Maybe it's because of my pride - but I didn't wan to do it. I had lost hope in everything and allowed myself to grow deeper into my depression.
It wasn't until Harry found me on the cold floor of his bathroom, with blood dripping from my arm, that I knew I wasn't okay. I needed help.
Winter in New York is my favourite thing. There's something breathtaking about the snow on the ground, the crispness of the air, and the mint flavoured drinks. My yellow gumboots splash the slush as I walk down the street to Harry and I's apartment. When everything went wrong, it made sense that we moved in together. My therapist suggested that it would help us rebuild our relationship, and help us move on together as a unit. Harry was all for it. I think he was happy to get some space from Stevie.
The warmth of our apartment welcomed me in like a warm hug. Our place was a step up from our little flat in London, but it still had the quirks and character that we loved so much.
There is a delicious aroma of tomatoes and oregano coming from our kitchen, causing my stomach to growl. After taking off my coat and boots, I walk over to our small kitchen.
Wearing sweatpants and a jumper, stood Harry. The sounds of some indie band blasts throughout our kitchen as he sings off key and stirs whatever it is that he's making.
"Smells delicious in here."
Harry jumped slightly, his head whipping quickly to look over his shoulder. "Fuck, you scared me," he says through a grin. "I didn't hear you come in."
"I'm not surprised. It's like a concert in here." I turn down the music to a decent volume. "Better."
Harry places the wooden spoon down on the counter and turns the boiler to low. I watch as he walks towards me, his arms pulling me closer to his chest as he leaves a kiss to my forehead. "Missed you today."
"You say that every day."
"Doesn't mean I don't mean it," he replies with a smirk. "How was therapy?"
I take a seat at the kitchen table as Harry goes back to finish up dinner. He pours the sauce into a pot of, what I'm assuming to be, pasta and sets it on the table.
"Good. She said that she thinks I only need one or two more sessions and I should be okay," I tell him as he places pasta on my plate. "It's weird. I didn't think I'd be at this place where I don't want to cry at every moment, or lock myself in our bedroom. It's a good feeling, but it's scary. What if I'm not actually better and I relapse or something, and I go back to square one? Especially when I see my father. That man is capable of doing anything."
Harry sits across from he and listens as I ramble on. He leans forward, his eyes watching me closely as I eat a big bite of tortellini.
"I don't know. Am I being irrational?"
Harry stabs a few pieces of his own pasta with his fork and chews the tortellini thoughtfully. "You're not being irrational," he concludes. "You were in a bad place. I think it's normal to feel that way. But I wont let you get back there. There's no way in hell."
My lips twitch into a smile as I watch the man I love so dearly eat away at his dinner.
"We have to see him next week. My father... for the hearing."
"I know."
"I'm nervous," I admit quietly.
Harry shakes his head, "Don't be. It'll be okay, baby. That bastard is going to get what he deserves."
I couldn't help but question if he really would. When Dylan had informed us that substantial evidence appeared that would help us with our case, it was almost too good to be true. Evidence had come out that my father had been plotting to murder Harry but not only that, he was spearheading one of the largest illegal drug import businesses in America. Apparently there were lawyers and the D.A. that were already trying to take my father down. Him trying to ruin mine and Harry's relationship was just the icing on the cake to get the ball rolling.
"Aren't you nervous? That they might bring up the whole Chase thing and that girl... Mariano's ex or something?" That was one of my biggest worries. That my father's defendant would use Harry's own misfortunes and mistakes to make himself look better. I know it's a long shot, but it isn't a complete irrational fear.
His chest rose and fell as he sighed, his left hand reached up for his hair as he tug it back. "Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes I think about how that prick will do everything in his fucking power to keep me away from you, but then I remember how much of a low life he is, and all of those worries go away."
"But Chase-"
"Chase had it coming. He went behind Ben's back and betrayed him. They were mates... best mates... and what Chase did was not okay. He fucking screwed up and got what he deserved."
"He's also the reason why you were shot."
"I was shot because those assholes had orders to kill me. Ben shooting Chase had no part in it."
"It was a trigger," I countered but Harry only shrugged.
"Probably but it doesn't matter now. Chase is dead and that's that. I don't want to even think about that fucking prick anymore. He was the one who tried to kill me in the first place."
"Yeah," I sighed. "It's weird. I can't - I still can't believe everything happened the way that it did. I can't believe my father wasn't the man who I thought he was."
"I knew from the moment I met him that he wasn't good. The man dripped of power and evil."
"You're right," I mused. "Any word on how Ben's doing? I talked to Jaz a few nights ago but she didn't go into much detail about how Ben is. Have you talked to him lately?"
Harry took a sip from his glass of water as I took another few bites of my pasta. I wasn't very hungry, but I tried to eat as much as I could.
"Rang him last night when you were asleep. He's still fucked up but I get it. Chase was his best mate and he shot him. Jaz is taking him to see someone on request of the court. Nobody is pressing charges. Apparently he's been estranged from his family for over a year. Robbed his dad... they don't really care that he's dead," he explained.
"That's awful!"
"That's life," he retorted. "Sometimes families are fucked up and shit happens. I don't give a shit to be honest. Ben's not in trouble and that's what matters to me."
A smile began to stretch on my lips, "Remember when you couldn't stand your brother? Now you're worried about his well being. It's cute."
Harry scoffed, "It's not cute."
"It is," I smiled.
Harry took another few bites of his food as I pushed my pasta around. "I have to see my mom tomorrow. She's not doing too well."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
I shook my head, "Nat will be there too. She's staying with her still."
"If you need me -"
"I know," I reassured him because I did. I knew that he would always be there. It took me a while to accept it after all that had happened. I thought for sure that he would leave me. My therapist and I had worked hard for me to forgive myself and to allow myself to accept Harry's love. He is too much in love and invested in us to let it all go to waste.
I realize that now.
And I'm not going to let it all go away either.
-
I walked up the steps of Chez, one of the most lavish restaurants in all of Manhattan in ripped jeans and a blouse. I ignored the stairs of the hosts as I walked past them and towards the back table where my mother, and Nat sat waiting.
Lilly Maxwell was already on her second glass of red wine, and it was only half past eleven in the morning. I shouldn't have been surprised. After everything came out about my father's secret business and life, she had lost herself in a bottle (more like two or three) of red almost every day. Alcohol had become her best friend and there was nothing much that Natalia and I could do about it.
"Morning," I greeted them as I took a seat opposite my mother. I opened the menu and began to browse through the brunch options. I had just settled on the french toast and strawberry compote when three glasses of mimosa's were served. I wasn't even surprised that she was going to mix her alcohol. I was more surprised that she gave me a glass when I told her I wasn't drinking right now.
"Let's toast," my mother's words slightly slurred as she lifted up her glass, "to my two lovely daughters, who despite all the trouble your father has put us through, have still stuck around for their drunkard of a mother."
Wearily, I glanced over to Nat who only rolled her eyes.
"You're not a drunk, mom."
"I might as well be," she giggled through a hiccup. "But why wouldn't I be? Your father has put me through hell over the past thirty years. He went behind my back and got a random whore pregnant in some other country and didn't even bother to tell me about it. And now he's going to go to prison and make a mockery of our family. It's all gone to shit, darling. What else is there to do but drink?"
I bit my lip as I watch her down back her glass. The glass made a terrible clank as she forcefully placed it back on the table.
"Isabella, why aren't you drinking? I made a toast. It's rude not to drink after a toast. Have I not taught you anything?"
"Mom," I sighed, "You know I'm not drinking right now."
"Right, of course," she scoffed. "You're on those pills that shrink gave you."
"She's a therapist and it's not all that bad. They help and that's all that matters," I told her. It seemed like I was always explaining myself to her. It wasn't that big of a deal to be on medication. If a cancer patient needs chemotherapy to get better, you don't think twice. But if someone with depression needs medication to feel better, it's the most scandalous thing that could happen. Mental illness is still an illness. I didn't think it was that big of a deal to be treated for it. I was feeling better because of it, and that's all that mattered to me.
"People will talk once they find out about it. Do you really want to add more damage to this family? It's bad enough that your father has made me a mockery at the country club. I can't go to any function without someone saying something about all of this. It's tiring and I don't need to add more to it because of your issues." My mother was always one for theatrics, but this was something else.
"You're ridiculous, you know that right? I am not going to damage this family. Dad already did that when he cheated on you and tried to kill my boyfriend." Her mouth dropped as if she was shocked by what I had said. I'm tired of her constantly making me feel bad for the decisions that I make. She is too blinded and lost in her socialite world that she can't see how damaged everything already is.
"You little bitch-"
"Mom, stop." Natalia grabbed hold of Lilly's arm and pulling her back against her seat. "You're going to make a scene. Stop this and let's order our food so this whole thing can be over with."
It was amazing the power Nat held over our mother. I knew it was because she was the only one who was willing enough to take care of her in her messy state. If I was giving out daughter of the year medals, Natalia would take them all.
Mother grumbled something under her breath, like a small child, and took another swig from her glass of wine. "Where's that damn waiter?"
I already knew that this brunch was a bad idea, but I hadn't realized how bad it was going to be. Maybe I should have brought Harry along with me.
After we ordered, silence loomed over our table. I stared off into space, my mind anywhere but here. Once the food had arrived, mother's voice broke the silence as she slurred on about how grateful we should be to have her as her mother. I hummed and hawed as I ate my soup, counting down the minutes until this awful meal would be over.
"So Mom..." Natalia's voice trailed off as she poked her fork in her frittata. "Are you going to be at dad's hearing next week?"
"Yes of course I'm going to be there. That scummy bastard is still my husband and how do you think it will look if I'm not there to support him?"
"You'll look like a strong woman who doesn't stand for this kind of abuse," I retorted back.
If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under.
"Isabella," her voice broke as she spat loudly. "I will not take any more of this. I have told you countless times that that isn't how this works. I will not just leave your father. The tabloids will have a field day if I do, and I do not want to succumb myself to that abuse."
"Oh please. That's not abuse," I jeered. "The way dad has treated you is abuse - emotional abuse. How many times did I find you crying in your room because of a fight you two had? Or how many bottles of wine did you go through when he was gone for seven months for a 'business trip' when in all actuality, he was probably fucking that woman. I'm sorry mom, but you're blind and dumb if you don't realize how unhealthy all of this is. You need to open your eyes mom."
I threw my napkin at the table, as anger began to flood through me. I don't know where this sudden rage came from but it was coursing through me in full force. I'm tired of all of this. I'm tired of listening to my own mother cry on and on about how everyone else will see her if she finally did something for herself. I'm tired of staying quiet and not speaking up. I'm tired of all of this.
"You do not speak to me like that, young lady," she stammered. "We are in a public place. People will hear -"
"Shut up about what other people will think, say, or do. Fuck them, mom. Fuck them and their opinions. What should matter is what Natalia and I think. Your daughters, or have you forgotten that that's what we are?"
I knew that people were beginning to stare but I didn't care.
"Izzy, maybe tone it down a bit," Nat reasoned, her eyes looking around at the many people who were probably listening to our conversation.
"You know what? I'm done with this." I pulled my bag from under the table and took out a twenty dollar bill. "This should cover my cost. Goodbye mother. Nat, I'll call you tomorrow."
And with that I walked out, ignoring the whispers and stares of Manhattan's socialites.
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