When love turns to hate and trust breaks what does a person do?
Faced with the painful decision, Isabella takes matters into her own hands and leaves her beloved country for a new life, but now he's back...
As a wedding planner, her job is to be hap...
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"No fucking way is she Isabella Monroe." Ivy pouts with a huff, crossing her arms and I spin around to her.
"She is. You've embarrassed yourself. Get over it," I spit out and she gasps, a bitter laugh leaving her.
"Are you really taking her side?" She asks and I tug at my hair, which is damp from the rain that's falling down all around us and making it all more dramatic than it needs to be.
"What sides?" I retort in disbelief, "I can't really change her name, can I? Suck it up Ivy."
"Yeah Ivy," Carlos taunts her, walking down the steps of the building and towards us with a shit eating grin. Hand in hand with him is Mia, although she couldn't care less for what was happening between us, content in her own world.
Anger rising in me like a steaming kettle, I turn to my brother. "What the fuck were you thinking?" I explode on Carlos. He gives me an innocent look and blows his hair out of his face, just as damp as mine. It's only now that I take in the musty, wet smell of the rain around us, and it makes me crave to be indoors all the more.
"What do you mean?" His voice is sickly sweet, and I hate it. I'm not taking his bullshit right now.
"You took us to her?" I seethe, "Apart from every fucking planner here you decided that we needed her ass to help us? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
That seems to elicit a strong reaction from him. Spinning around, he jabs a finger in my chest. "I want her help because she's the best out there, okay? I don't give a flying fuck about the mistakes you made and don't you fucking dare hate on her. She did nothing to you. Nothing." He yells this over the storm, and I run a hand down my face.
I can barely think straight with the blood rushing through my veins, roaring in my ears and the thundering rain shattering down on us like shards of ice into my heart. I saw her. After all this time I finally...
Saw her again.
I would never admit this out loud but, sometimes, after that God forsaken night, I lie awake and think about her. What she looks like. How she feels. If she's doing better. If she found someone else. If she still remembers and yearns for me.
I always thought about looking her up on Instagram or anywhere, ask her friends, ask her parents even but I never went through with it. As selfish as I am, I knew she wouldn't want to see me again and so I desperately tried to erase all memories of her when all I really wanted was to feel her touch one last time.
In simple terms, I longed for her. Yearned for her.
Hiraeth
(noun)
Deep for something, especially one's home.
I felt a deep sense of hiraeth for her and the relationship we had.
