Chapter 40 – A Bitter Pill To Swallow
Emerson’s POV
Bo Isabel had found a new home. She wasn’t starving in the streets like my nightmares. A sense of relief washed over me. But when I saw the photos, my heart shattered. She was with a man. And not just any man…
I thanked my assistant for the information and sent him off had to prepare for work,
I began the familiar routine of getting dressed. Sliding into a tailored suede sult, I felt the soft fabric mold to my frame. As I looked into the mirror, I couldn’t help but admire the sharp contrast of my wavy, dark hair against my striking blue eyes.
I looked every bit the successful and accomplished CEO that I was known to be. Yet, despite the polished exterior, a hollow feeling lingered beneath.
Why would Isabel choose that other guy over me? He wasn’t nearly as tall, rich or striking as I was. The jealousy gnawed at me. I tried to shake it off, focusing instead on the responsibilities awaiting me at
work.
The roar of my Porsche cut through the quiet morning as I drove to the office. I needed to channel all my energy into my work. As the CEO, my role demanded unwavering focus. Emotions couldn’t interfere with the demands of running the company. Duty called.
But as I was trying to get through the morning, my mind was scattered. I couldn’t stop thinking about Isabel. The confusing night with Lilith didn’t help.
Why wasn’t I attracted to her? A few months ago, her revealing dress would’ve taken my breath away. But last night, all I could do was compare her to Isabel.
lunch break, count take it any longer had to do something
decided to take fate into my own hands
drove to sabe’s new
address, & SAM brewing inside of me. Wy qut told me that the man in the photos was Robert. The thought graved at me why do sabe
acceptinis hep so readily, bur kent tuming me avay? Were they
involved? Were they wng together in the suburbs?
My mind raced with questions and instations How could she move on so quickly, just after our divorce??red to suppress the whin emotions. I needed to prepare for the confrontation
range
What would say when I saw her? Should I talk about the assets? Wention the reasons for my actions? Should tell her it came from a -place of sympathy? No, sympathy might make her complacent. I
couldn’t afford that
As I approached Isabel’s new home, my heart pounded with anger and apprehension. I never expected Robert to be the person to open the door. The sight of him confirmed my foreboding. Of all people, why did it have to be him?
Robert looked surprised to see me, but not particularly welcoming. The sight of him standing there, in the place where Isabel lived, was infuriating. I could hardly comain my anger.
“Robert,” I said sharply, “what are you doing here?”
He didn’t bother with pleasantries. I’m here to help Isabel. She’s not well.”
My anger flared. “So you’re living here now? Isabel moves on that quickly?”
Robert’s face hardened. “That’s none of your business. She needs medical care, not your judgment.”
+25 BONUS
Before I could respond, Isabel entered the hallway. “Emerson! What are you doing here?”
During our shouting match, I saw Isabel’s complexion growing paler and palier, until she clutched her head in her hands. Robert immediately left to get her medicine.
“Medicine? What medicine?” I asked. Isabel made a weak attempt to shake it off. But I wouldn’t leave without some answers.
I followed Robert inside. The tension in the air was almost palpable. I looked back to see Isabel sitting on the hallway floor, looking pale and exhausted. Her discomfort was evident, and it only fueled my
frustration.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, pacing into the kitchen. “Why is she in such a state?”
Robert was in the middle of getting Isabel’s medicine. He held a bottle of pills and a glass.
“What are you giving her?” I called out.
Robert’s eyes flashed with irritation. It’s none of your concern. Hey!” He shouted as I reached out to grab the bottle.
The bottle slipped from his grasp and fell, scattering pills across the kitchen floor. I bent down to pick it up. I turned it over in my hand, looking for a name, but the label had been removed.
“What is this?” I demanded, holding up the bottle.
Robert didn’t answer. He filled the glass of water and walked back to Isabel, who had managed to get herself settled on the couch. Her face was still pale, and she looked miserable. I felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside. Anger was more comfortable.
I hovered awkwardly near the couch, unsure of what to do. I wanted to
maar woorde wheng i shwicked my phung, scanning: Through the call taga.
Mais varia is put
on contin and Wes