It was 4:10 p.m., and Theodore had not gone out of the car. He remained slumped in the passenger seat, numb, staring at Bella in a daze. He had been looking for her everywhere, but she was right beside him—His wife turned out to be his angel.
’Fool!’ This word echoed in his mind.
Even after seeing her full name, Isabella, on the marriage certificate, it hadn’t dawned on him that she was the one who had saved him. Fate had brought them together. But shame clenched in his gut, rendering him immobile.
How could he face her now? What was he going to say to her?
He had mistaken someone else for Isabella. He had even suspected her of having affairs with another man. Instead of showing gratitude, he had been upset with her and had avoided her. Shame and guilt churned in his gut, making him feel sick.
Theodore grew increasingly restless. His mind raced, trying to figure out how he would approach her.
Tristan, on the other hand, was dumbfounded. He wondered why Theodore was not getting out of the car. A flicker of doubt ignited in Tristan’s mind. Could he have mistaken someone else for Isabella?
He flicked his gaze to Bella. He shook his head. ’It’s the same woman I saw in the photo,’ he mumbled to himself.
He had painstakingly tracked down her phone location and discovered her address. When he visited Isabella’s rented house, he saw a photo of her with her friend Bridget. He had even confirmed with Bridget that the woman in the photo was indeed Isabella. There was no chance he had misidentified her.
Turning to Theodore, he asked, "Aren’t you going to talk to her?"
Theodore’s response was a muffled, "Not here." His mind was still locked in a frantic internal debate.
"But..."
Ring-Ring-Ring...
Before Tristan could pry further, a sharp trill pierced the tense atmosphere. Isabella’s name blazed on his phone screen. He held it up for Theodore to see.
"She is calling me. What should I say?"
"Answer it," Theodore mumbled, his gaze never leaving Bella. "Tell her... I won’t be coming."
"En?" Tristan gave him a confused look.
They had come all this way, following the trail he had painstakingly assembled, just for Theodore to back out at the last possible moment. What had transpired in the car during their brief drive that caused such a dramatic shift?
’He has come specifically to meet with her, and now he doesn’t want to. What’s going on?’ The question gnawed at Tristan, leaving him adrift in a sea of confusion.
"Why aren’t you answering the call?" Theodore scowled at him.
"Um, ahem." Tristan caught off guard, cleared his throat awkwardly. Taking a deep breath, he answered the phone, "Hello, Miss Isabella. Sorry to inform you that sir won’t be able to come. He is busy in meetings."
"What?" Bella’s voice crackled through the phone, laced with disbelief and a rising temper. "I’ve been waiting for him! Does he not respect other people’s time?"
"Miss Isabella, I understand it’s frustrating, but..." Tristan stammered, unsure how to navigate the sudden hostility.
"You know what?" Bella cut him off sharply. "Your boss is beneficial for nothing. Tell him to go to hell."
Beep
"Ugh!" she groaned, clenching her jaw so hard the muscles stood out starkly. "He is so annoying! If he comes in front of me right now, I swear I’ll pluck his hair out!"
Fuming, she stomped her foot on the ground and stormed off, her entire body rigid with frustration.
Confusion coiled tighter around Tristan as he swiveled to face Theodore. A smirk, wholly unexpected, played on Theodore’s lips.
"Seems you enjoyed riling her up," Tristan mumbled with bewildered amusement.
"Take the car to her," Theodore demanded.
"But you just said—?" Tristan sputtered, perplexed. "You didn’t want to see her, and now this? Did you get possessed by a spirit of indecisiveness?"
"Just follow my instructions, will you?" Theodore gave him a cold look.
With a disgruntled huff, Tristan threw the car into gear gloomily. The sleek black car glided towards Bella.
Beep-Beep...
The horn beeping halted Bella’s steps, and she turned to look behind, only to see the familiar sleek black car stopping right beside her. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Theodore’s face.
Bella’s heart hammered against her ribs.
Theodore! He finally arrived. That meant he was the mysterious man. Anticipation bubbled in her chest, a fizzy concoction of excitement and nervous energy.
Theodore, however, remained a stoic mask. The warmth she’d imagined was absent, replaced by a chilling indifference. "Why are you here? Meeting someone?" His eyes flickered briefly to the cafe entrance before locking back on Bella.
The hopeful spark in Bella’s eyes dimmed. Doubt coiled around her heart like a venomous serpent. "Aren’t you here to meet someone?" she asked, curious.
"No..." Theodore offered a noncommittal shrug. "I am just passing by."
Bella’s expression turned bleak. Disappointment settled heavily in her stomach. It wasn’t him. All the excitement, the nervous fluttering, evaporated, leaving behind a desolate emptiness.
"Oh," she mumbled, her tone betraying her inner turmoil.
"Come on in. I’ll drop you home," Theodore offered.
Bella shook her head. "No, thank you. I’ll get a cab."
Her mind was in a mess, and she needed time to regain her composure. His presence would only intensify her restlessness.
"Suit yourself," Theodore replied, not pushing further. He had a different plan in motion now. With a curt nod to Tristan, he signaled him to drive away.
Bella stood there, feeling a mix of confusion and heartache. She watched the car disappear into the distance, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.
"Stupid, Bella," she chastised herself under her breath. "What were you even thinking?" She flagged down a cab and headed back to her rented apartment.
Tristan stole a glance at Theodore. Curiosity gnawed at him. "What exactly is going on here, sir?" he ventured. "It seems clear she has no clue you’re the one she saved. Why not reveal yourself?"
The entire situation was a perplexing puzzle, and Tristan yearned for a piece of the answer.
Theodore remained cloaked in silence, his expression an unreadable mask. "Take me to the villa. Then head to the hospital and get me an update."
Realizing his boss wouldn’t divulge any details, Tristan sighed and focused on driving.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As evening painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, Bridget and Joe pushed open the door to their apartment, their laughter echoing from their outing. The sight that greeted them froze the smiles on their faces.
They found Bella huddling on the sofa. The TV was on, but her attention was seemingly somewhere else. Their joyous mood evaporated when they saw her flustered look.
"Bella! Are you not feeling well?" Joe inquired, worried.
"Did you meet the guy?" Bridget chimed in, her excitement tinged with worry. "What happened?"
Bella offered only a dejected sigh in response, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
Bridget and Joe exchanged puzzled glances. "Come on, spill the beans," Bridger urged, taking a seat beside Bella. "What’s wrong?"
"He didn’t show up," Bella murmured dejectedly.
"What?"
Ding-Dong...
Before Bridget could delve deeper into the reason for the canceled meeting, the doorbell chimed loudly.
"I’ll get it." Joe spun around and went to answer the door.
He swung the door open to reveal a tall figure standing on the stoop. The man, radiating an air of quiet power, held a bouquet of crimson roses in his hand.
Joe scrutinized the stranger from head to toe, his mind a whirlwind of questions.
Who was this unexpected visitor?
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