The Billionaire's Pretend Wife (Isabella)
Chapter 81 Eighty One

She gave Seth a worried look. "I wanted to get to Hillside."

"You can't make it, not tonight. You should be indoors, Isabelle. Where do you live? I can take you back quickly before I go home."

She swallowed and bit her lip. She didn't live anywhere, not anymore.

"...-"

The wind blew stronger, and a wave of rain reached them in the back of the shelter. Seth shook his head and reached for her suitcase. "Get in the car."

She watched as he took her luggage to the back of the car and then opened the passenger door to her. The rain beat down on him as he waited for her to hurry over.

She went and ducked into the car. He shut the door after her and went around to the driver's side.

Isabelle noticed the sudden change in temperature. The inside of the car was warm-a lot better than being out in the cold.

As soon as Seth sat down in the driver's seat, he shrugged off his coat and reached over to place it around her shoulders. She tried to reject the offer, but he insisted.

"I don't want you catching a cold," he told her. "What's your address?"

His gentle gesture, and his caring voice, and the look of concern on his face were all too much. It occurred to her that Seth was one of the few people, besides Ruth, who had always been nice to her.

First in college, and then at work. Even if he had once had romantic interest in her, he never treated her differently just because she refuted his advances. He, too, like Ruth, had always been in her corner. Unconditionally.

She couldn't have stopped the rush of emotions that rocked her if she tried. She hid her face in her hands as she doubled over, crying for possibly the hundredth time that day. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Concerned, Seth reached over and touched her shoulder gently. "Isabelle, what's wrong?"

She shook her head as she tried to fight the wave of tears.

Seth's touch disappeared. Seconds later, he touched the back of her hand. "Here.”

He was giving her a wad of tissues. She took them from him and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"What's wrong?" he asked when she sat back up, a little composed. "You can talk to me, please. I hate seeing you like this."

She fidgeted with the tissues in her hands as she stared bleakly out of the window. "I don't have anywhere to go," she told him.

He was quiet for several seconds. But he didn't ask questions. Instead, he said, "I have an empty guest room at my place. If you don't mind, you can stay there tonight." "Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't mention it," he said as he started the car and got back into traffic.

Seth lived farther away from the city centre. They were barely able to get to their destination before it became impossible to drive in the storm.

He drove his car into the basement parking lot of a modern flat building, and when they left the car, they got into an elevator. He pressed the button for the tenth floor.

Isabelle was glad that he wasn't asking questions about why she had nowhere to go. She couldn't get into that without crying. Not yet. Maybe the next day, she would be more stable. But, what would she tell him, anyway?

That she had run away from her marital home?

That she had been living a lie, and she was now facing the consequences?

When they got off the elevator, Seth led the way to a door at the end of the hallway. He pressed a code into a panel on the door and pushed it open.

"After you," he told her with a warm smile.

"Thank you," she said and stepped over the threshold. He came after her with her luggage in tow. After they changed out of their shoes and into slippers, he brought her farther into the apartment, walking down a short hallway before getting to the living room.

The living room was expensively furnished, but not in an in-your-face kind of way. It was laid-back and had a homely atmosphere. It suited him.

"You should change out of your wet clothes," he told her. "I'll show you to the guest room."

She followed him, and he opened a door to the right of the living room. He carried her luggage inside and she followed. Placing her luggage by the dressing table, he turned to her. "Feel at home, Isabelle. If you need to use the bathroom, it's on the right side of the hallway we came through, the first door after this room."

"Okay," she replied. "Thank you, Seth."

"Don't hesitate to tell me if you need anything," he told her. "Have you had dinner yet?"

She hadn't, but he had done enough for her already. She didn't want to burden him further.

"I haven't had mine yet," he added. "I had some errands to run after work and didn't have time. If you haven't eaten yet, I'll make for two."

Well, since he hadn't eaten yet, she nodded. "I haven't."

"Good," he said. "I'll be in the kitchen, then."

"Okay," she replied.

He left, closing the door softly behind him. Taking a shaky breath, she lay her suitcase down and opened it. She looked through the clothes she had taken from the apartment and chose a pair of cotton pants, a t-shirt, and a woollen sweater.

She also needed a shower, so she took out a towel. Following Seth's instructions, she left the room and headed for the bathroom. She hung her fresh clothes and towel on the rail, and then removed her wet clothes and put them in the empty laundry basket in the room. She would deal with them later.

Stepping under the showerhead, she turned the water on and stepped under it. When the cold water hit her body before it warmed up, it felt like a shock-therapy she badly needed. Her entire body trembled, and a deep sigh escaped her lips.

By the time she was done, she felt more composed than since that afternoon. After changing into her clean clothes, she went back to the guest room.

Her eyes fell on the shoulder bag she had brought with her. Reaching inside, she fetched her phone and turned it on. She sat down on the edge of the bed and breathed steadily, preparing herself for the barrage of messages and missed calls she was sure she had from Jacob.

She was right-the moment her cell service registered, notifications flooded her screen.

Her insides in a twist, she went through them.

A majority were from Jacob, asking where she was, and saying that they needed to talk. He had been sending them since that afternoon, after she had left the hospital. She noticed that the last one was sent about two hours ago.

There was another one from Naomi.

If I was you, I would stay away from Jacob. He wasn't happy when he found out the truth. God knows what he'll do to my parents. Is this what you wanted? If I ever see your stupid face again, you'll get it from me. Stay away from my family!

Isabelle pressed her fingers to her lips. She had known that Jacob would be angry and hurt because of her deceit, but knowing it for a fact hit deep.

She sucked in a deep breath. It was done. Thanks to her sister, she didn't have to look him in the eyes while she told him that she had been lying to him for months. She didn't have to see how much she hurt him. Knowing it was hard enough.

Going through her call log, she found several missed calls from Jacob, a couple from Lucy, one from Francis, and another from Naomi. She also saw that she had one from Logan Larson. He had called around the time she had been at the hospital.

She bit her lip nervously. Why had he called her after she told him she couldn't see him? Had it been urgent?

She pushed that to the back of her mind. It didn't matter. Tomorrow, she would stop by the company first thing in the morning to ask for a few days' leave and also to hand in her resignation notice. In about three weeks' time, she should be able to leave the company without owing them anything.

Once that was done, she would be free to leave her old life behind and start afresh. Where, she still had no idea. She was sure she would know by the time she was done arranging Ruth's funeral. She went back to her messages and opened Jacob's. She typed a new message.

She knew it wasn't enough, it couldn't make up for what she had done to him, but it was the only thing she could say at the moment;

I'm sorry.

The message didn't get delivered immediately, and she felt relieved. His phone must be off, or perhaps the storm had affected the network. She knew that when he saw the message, he would attempt to call her right away.

She could do with the extra time before she had to talk to him.

Putting her phone back into her bag, she rose and left the room to look for Seth.

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