My Toxin

Chapter 23

I woke up to the soft shuffle of curtains swaying in the breeze, a faint light sneaking into the room. The weight on my chest was warm and grounding, and as I glanced down, I saw Isabella nestled against me. Her hair was a messy halo around her face, her bare skin pressing against mine, and for a moment, I stayed still, trying to hold onto the simplicity of this moment.

But the memories from last night weren't enough to block out the nagging thought that crept into my mind—Marjorie. The weight of everything unsaid between us clung to me like a shadow, making it hard to fully relax. Isabella stirred, her body shifting slightly, and her eyes blinked open, still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning," she murmured, her soft Spanish accent making the words sound melodic.

"Morning," I replied, forcing a small smile. I wasn't sure if I'd been convincing enough because her smile faltered as she looked at me.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" she asked, her voice gentle but pointed.

I hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Yeah... I guess I am. It's complicated."

She sat up, pulling the sheets around her as she leaned against the headboard. There was no judgment in her expression, just quiet understanding. "Alex, listen," she began, her tone more serious now. "I want to be honest with you."

I turned toward her, unsure where this was going. "What do you mean?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice steady but kind. "I'm not looking for anything serious. I've never been the type to settle down. I like living in the moment, having fun, and keeping things light. And honestly... I can tell that you're not over her. Whatever's going on with Marjorie—it's bigger than this. Bigger than us."

Her honesty caught me off guard, but instead of making me defensive, it felt like a relief. "So, you're saying you're okay with this just being casual?"

She nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. "Completely. No strings, no complications. Just two people enjoying each other's company."

"That actually sounds perfect," I admitted, feeling some of the weight on my chest ease. "I'm not ready for anything serious either. This whole thing with Marjorie... it's a lot."

Isabella's smile widened, her easygoing demeanor making me feel lighter. "Then let's not overthink it. Let's just have fun, okay?"

"Deal," I said, leaning over to press a light kiss to her forehead. She slipped out of bed, her movements unhurried as she stretched and started pulling on the dress she'd worn the night before.

"I think I left my phone downstairs," she said, glancing around the room. "I'll grab it and be back."

"Take your time," I replied, watching her go. For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of clarity, even if it was fleeting.

The sound of her footsteps faded as she headed downstairs, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling and wondering how long this feeling of peace would last.

Downstairs, I found out later, Isabella had bumped into Marjorie in the living room. From what Isabella told me, it wasn't the friendliest exchange.

"Morning," Isabella had said, polite but distant.

"Morning," Marjorie had replied, her tone sharp and her expression tight.

Isabella, ever perceptive, mentioned to me how Marjorie's eyes flicked over her, taking in the rumpled dress and tousled hair. Isabella hadn't let it bother her, though. She said she just grabbed her phone and got out of the conversation before it could escalate. But I could tell from the way she described it that Marjorie's reaction had stuck with her.

By the time everyone had gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Isabella had taken charge, making eggs and bacon for the group. The smell alone was enough to pull everyone in, even though Marjorie opted for a bowl of cereal instead. She sat at the far end of the table, picking at her food, her gaze occasionally darting toward me and Isabella.

I tried to focus on the conversation around me, laughing at Ayo's jokes and ignoring the tension in the room. Isabella's energy helped—she was the type of person who could brighten any space she walked into. She even invited the group to join her friends for sightseeing later in the day. "It'll be fun!" she said with a wide smile, and the others seemed interested. Even Marjorie nodded along, though she barely said a word.

Later that afternoon, I stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. The view of the ocean was breathtaking—endless blue stretching into the horizon, the sound of waves lapping against the cliffs below. But even the beauty of Santorini couldn't quiet the noise in my head.

"Yo, bro," Ayo's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He leaned casually against the doorframe, a smirk on his face. "You good?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Ayo wasn't buying it. "You don't look fine. You look like a man with some serious shit on his mind."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's just... complicated."

"Marjorie?" he guessed, and I nodded. Ayo shook his head, his smirk fading. "Man, you've got to let her go. She had her chance. It's time for you to move on."

"I'm trying," I admitted, my voice low. "But it's not that simple."

Ayo clapped a hand on my shoulder, his tone firm. "Look, bro. You've got Isabella up there practically worshiping you. Don't waste your time pining after someone who can't make up their mind. Enjoy the moment. Live your life."

"Thanks, man," I said, appreciating his words even if they didn't fully hit.

"Anytime," he replied with a grin. "Now let's go. The girls are waiting."

The day passed in a blur of sightseeing, laughter, and more drinks than I'd planned. By the time night fell, we were all back at the villa, and I found myself alone in the kitchen with Marjorie. She was nursing a glass of wine, her posture tense. I leaned against the counter, watching her.

"You've been quiet today," I said softly, trying to read her expression.

"Just tired, I guess," she replied, her voice distant.

I wasn't convinced. I knew her too well to believe that. "Marjorie... if there's something you want to say, just say it."

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the glass. Then, with a sigh, she looked up at me. "I don't like seeing you with her."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Why?"

"Because... because I obviously have feelings for you, Alex," she admitted, her voice raw. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."

For a moment, I didn't know what to say. Her confession was everything I'd wanted to hear, but it came too late. "Marjorie, I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you feel the same," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "That you'll go upstairs and throw Isabella out."

I hesitated, my heart and head warring with each other. But I couldn't keep falling into this cycle. I had to draw a line.

"I love you, Marjorie," I said quietly, meeting her eyes. "But I need you to figure out what you want. I'll always be here when you're ready, but I can't keep putting myself through this."

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "I understand."

When I got back to my room, Isabella was fresh out of the shower, her body wrapped in a towel. "What's wrong?" she asked, noticing the tension in my face.

"Nothing," I muttered, my head too full to say more.

Without another word, she dropped to her knees, and for a while, I let myself get lost in her touch, trying to forget everything that had just been said.