Chapter fourteen

The wedding had ended, but the weight in Isla's chest refused to lift. She stood on the balcony of her hotel room, staring at the glittering skyline. The laughter, music, and clinking of champagne glasses had long since faded, leaving behind an unsettling silence. She had played her part well—distant, composed, indifferent. But the truth was, she had spent the entire evening avoiding Lucas.

He had noticed.

Isla could feel his gaze on her throughout the night, burning with silent questions. He hadn't confronted her, not yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. And now, with the celebration over, she had made her decision.

It was time to leave.

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She took a deep breath before opening it.

Emma stood on the other side, arms crossed, a knowing look in her eyes.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Isla stepped aside, letting her in. "You already know the answer."

Emma sighed, closing the door behind her. "You always do this. Run when things get complicated."

Isla turned away, gripping the edge of the dresser. "It's not running. It's moving on."

Emma scoffed. "Really? Then why didn't you say goodbye to Lucas?"

Isla flinched at his name. "He doesn't need to know."

Emma gave her a pointed look. "You honestly think he'll just let you disappear?"

A bitter laugh escaped Isla's lips. "He doesn't have a choice."

Emma studied her carefully. "And if he follows you?"

Isla's heart pounded. "Then I'll deal with it."

Emma shook her head. "No, you won't. You'll push him away like you always do. But Isla, have you ever stopped to think—maybe this time, he won't let you?"

A silence settled between them. Isla hated how well Emma could read her.

She turned away, pretending to fix the strap of her suitcase. "It's better this way."

"For who?" Emma challenged. "Because it sure as hell isn't better for him."

Isla clenched her jaw. "It's not about him."

Emma sighed. "Then what is it about?"

Isla didn't answer.

Lucas sat in his hotel suite, gripping a glass of whiskey, though he had barely taken a sip. His mind was elsewhere.

He had spent the entire evening watching Isla avoid him. Every time he moved closer, she slipped away. Every time their eyes met, she turned. He wasn't an idiot—she was planning something.

And then Madeline had given him confirmation.

"She's leaving," she had said, an amused smirk on her lips.

Lucas hadn't responded. He had just stood, grabbed his jacket, and left.

Now, as he stood outside Isla's suite, he could hear muffled voices from inside. Emma was with her. He waited. A moment later, the door opened, and Emma stepped out.

She froze when she saw him.

"Lucas," she said cautiously.

"Emma," he replied, his voice calm. "Move."

Emma hesitated. "She—"

"I'm not asking."

Emma exhaled but stepped aside. "Be careful with her."

Lucas nodded before walking in.

Isla turned at the sound of the door closing, her heart stopping when she saw Lucas standing there.

He looked as composed as ever, but his dark eyes held an intensity that made her pulse race.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, voice low and controlled.

She swallowed hard. "Lucas, I—"

"Don't lie," he cut in. "Not to me."

Her grip tightened around her suitcase. "I have things to take care of."

Lucas's gaze flickered to the packed bags. "Things so urgent you can't even say goodbye?"

Isla turned away. "I didn't think it mattered."

Lucas let out a dry laugh. "Bullshit."

She winced at his tone.

He took a step closer. "Why are you running from me?"

"I'm not."

"You always do."

Isla's throat tightened. "It's not like that."

"Then explain it to me." His voice softened, but the frustration was still there. "Because all I see is the woman I once loved, trying to disappear before I can stop her."

Her chest ached. "Lucas—"

"You don't even deny it," he murmured.

She turned sharply, anger flashing in her eyes. "What do you want me to say? That I'm scared? That being around you is—" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "It doesn't change anything."

Lucas stepped even closer, his voice dangerously quiet. "What are you hiding, Isla?"

She sucked in a breath.

Lucas's eyes searched hers. "I know there's something."

She looked away.

He exhaled. "Do you even know how much I've tried to understand what went wrong between us?"

Her lips trembled. "Some things aren't meant to be understood."

"That's a coward's excuse."

She flinched, but he didn't take the words back.

Lucas's voice turned rougher. "If you want to leave, fine. But at least have the decency to tell me the truth before you do."

Her hands balled into fists. "And if you knew the truth, then what?"

Lucas's gaze darkened. "Then I'd stop letting you run."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.

Isla looked away, because if she met his gaze any longer, she knew she'd break.

And she wasn't ready for that.

Not yet.