Confession

Chapter 13: Confession

"Isa, come out, or I'm coming in. How long are you planning to stay in there?"

No reply.

The room was empty when Dylan returned, but the sound of the shower running in the bathroom told him where Isabella was.

He waited, thinking she'd come out soon, but it had been over thirty minutes, and she still hadn't emerged. Worry settled in his chest.

"Fine. I'm coming in. Don't scold me later."

Just as he was about to push open the door, the shower stopped. He heard the faint rustle of clothes and stepped back. Moments later, the door creaked open, and Isabella stepped out.

Her wet hair was wrapped in a soft, white towel, and her cheeks were flushed—but not just from the heat of the shower. A glaring red handprint stood out starkly on her left cheek.

"I-Isa? Who did this to you?" Dylan's fists clenched, his jaw tightening as he stared at the mark.

She hesitated, then mumbled, "I just got into a fight. Nothing to worry about."

Her nonchalant response only made Dylan angrier, but he held himself back. She was already standing there, head low, shoulders tense, looking like she wanted to disappear.

Wordlessly, he led her to the chair, grabbed a hairdryer, and began drying her hair.

The next few minutes passed in silence, broken only by the hum of the dryer. Once done, Dylan gently pressed a cold pack against her cheek, his movements soft and deliberate.

"Princess, do you remember how you used to come running to me after every fight in the orphanage? Even after beating those bullies to a pulp, you'd still complain to me."

His voice was calm, but there was an edge of sadness. "What changed now? Why are you hiding things from me? You're making me feel useless."

Isabella's tears started falling silently, one after another. She remembered those days—how she'd tell Dylan everything, no matter how small. But now, the words felt trapped, caught in her throat.

Seeing her cry without making a sound was unbearable for Dylan. Her trembling shoulders, quivering chin, and silent tears cut deeper than any words could.

He pulled her into a hug, holding her close. "It's okay. Cry it out. I'm right here."

Isabella buried her face in his chest, finding solace in his embrace.

Grayson had tried to kiss her earlier that day. When she slapped him, he retaliated, his hand striking her cheek so hard she thought she'd ruptured her eardrum.

But how could she explain that? How could she put into words the humiliation, the fear?

Dylan gently pulled back, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. "Is it about grades? Whatever it is, just tell me. We'll figure it out together."

Isabella shook her head, her breathing uneven. "You don't understand. It's not just the grades. It's… everything. I can't… I can't handle it anymore."

"Then you don't have to," Dylan said firmly. "Just tell me what's wrong, and I'll handle it for you."

Her voice was barely a whisper. "It's Professor Grayson. He's been… harassing me. Touching me. Saying disgusting things." She paused, swallowing hard.

"I tried to get evidence, but he caught me—twice. Now he's threatening to ruin my academic record if I don't… if I don't do what he wants."

Dylan froze, his body tensing. "How long has this been going on?"

"About a month."

He clenched his fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. But he forced himself to stay calm—for her sake. "Did you tell anyone?"

"I reported it to the harassment prevention committee, but… he's a tenured professor. They said it's hard to act without solid evidence."

Dylan frowned. "Did they at least arrange something to keep him away from you? Maybe have someone else grade you?"

"They offered, but I rejected it."

"Why?" Dylan asked, confused.

Her hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. Shame and humiliation clouded her features. Dylan waited patiently, knowing she needed time.

"H-He secretly filmed me… changing… in the sports locker room." Her voice broke, and she shut her eyes tightly, unable to face him.

Dylan's anger surged. The idea of Isabella—proud, strong Isabella—being reduced to this state because of that man made his blood boil.

She continued, her voice trembling. "He said he'd release it on the campus forums if I didn't… if I didn't keep going to him."

Dylan exhaled deeply, trying to rein in his fury. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Princess, you're not alone in this. You should've told me sooner. I'd have been there for you."

"I didn't want to implicate you," she admitted. "If something went wrong, your academic record would be ruined. I couldn't let that happen."

It was true. Dylan came out of the Barnett family, rented this small congested place, and was working part-time while studying.

She can see how much he wanted to cut ties with that family and stand on his own feet. One negative mark on the academic record can ruin his future.

Dylan felt a pang of guilt. Isabella had been protecting him while enduring this nightmare alone.

Then he suddenly remembered Benjamin and Aaron from earlier. He almost forgot about them because of Grayson.

"Does anyone else know about this?" he asked.

"Just you… and Aaron. He's the student head of the harassment prevention team. I went to him when Grayson first started making advances."

Dylan's eyes narrowed. Now things were starting to make sense. No wonder Benjamin was so silent. He was already torturing Isabella.

"And the video?"

"I didn't tell Aaron about that," she said quietly.

Dylan's jaw tightened. He was certain Aaron already knew. Grayson, Benjamin, Aaron—they were all in cahoots, playing with Isabella.

For the first time, Dylan felt a desperate need for power. Power to crush anyone who dared to hurt her. He glanced at her cheek, the redness fading but still visible.

"Did he hit you before?"

"No," she replied. "He tried to kiss me, and I slapped him. He got angry and… hit me back. It's never happened before."

Dylan cupped her face gently. "You're safe now, okay? I won't let him—or anyone—hurt you again."

Her tears finally slowed, her breathing evening out as his words sank in.

"That video will never come out. I will find a way to destroy it." he promised. "We'll deal with Grayson together. Do you trust me?"

Isabella nodded. She and Dylan had always been a team. No matter how much they bickered or fought, they were always there for each other when it mattered.

"There's something I need to tell you," Dylan said, his tone serious.

"What is it?"

"You look ugly when you cry."

Isabella stared at him, speechless, before grabbing a pillow and hurling it at his face.

"Dylan, I'm going to kill you!"

He laughed, dodging the pillow, his heart lightening at the sight of her smile.

"Do you still want to come to the movie?"

"Yes," she replied. "I like your friends. I want to get to know them better."

Dylan's face looked like a stone. He remembered Kyle's words. He said Isabella friend-zoned him, and that he has no chance at all.

"What's there to know? They're stinky kids who bathe once a week, that's all."

Isabella wrinkled her nose. "Is that how you talk about me to them too? Traitor."

"I am hungry. Cook something for me. I will get some sleep later. I have to look beautiful in the evening." Isabella was back to her cheerful self again.

Dylan rolled his eyes hearing her ordering him around but still obediently went to make lunch for her.

Isabella lay on her mattress and closed her eyes to give them some rest. The heat in her swollen eyes from all the crying was unmistakable.

Within minutes, exhaustion claimed her, and she drifted into a deep sleep.

She slept like a baby.

Dylan turned around after preparing the lunch, his eyes softening at the sight of her sleeping. Her face was peaceful, her breaths steady.

A faint smile crossed his lips as he knelt by her side, observing her with a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show in the past few years.

His hand lingered on her face but he retraced it back in fear of disturbing her peaceful sleep.

They had been inseparable since their orphanage days, but deep in his heart, Dylan always knew there was something different about Isabella. The girl who arrived that day wasn't the same Isabella he had known before.

The memory was hazy—he was just a child, barely five—but he recalled an old woman doing something strange. The girl who looked like Isabella had disappeared into a swirling black void, and another girl had fallen in her place.

That was the Isabella he had grown up with, the one who later insisted on changing her name to "Isabella Campbell" from... something. He didn't remember.

Though the oddities of her arrival faded with time, the bond between them became stronger and stronger.

She became a part of everything in his life. Whether it be crying, laughing, fighting, playing, eating, or even innocent banters, she was present in every single frame.

Dylan sighed, brushing a hand through his hair.

He had loved her since they were children, long before he understood what love even meant.

Now, as a young man, that love in his heart had only deepened, accompanied by the strong attraction he felt towards her -- The kind a man feels for a woman.

It's just that, he didn't want to confess and scare Isabella. He wanted to first know how Isabella felt towards him. He knew she too loves him deeply. But it all depends on what kind of love?

If it was really like what his friends said -- friend zoned, then he would seduce Isabella to fall for him.

The second option is that Isabella is attracted to him too, but is unsure just like him. Then he would take the leap, kiss her and let her know what she means to him.

He didn't want to think of this third option, but if, just 'if', he is in "brother zone", then he would willingly be her brother. For Isabella, relationships were sacred, and he would never taint what they shared.