A Bet That Changed Us ︱Pablo Gavi

14: Waves of the past

Isabella's Pov

After breakfast, Pablo leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "How about we go to the beach? It's a beautiful day, and I think we both could use some fresh air."

I smiled at the idea, grateful for the chance to spend more time with him. "That sounds perfect. I'll just need to grab some clothes from home first." 

Pablo nodded, and we quickly got ready to head out. He drove me back to my place, where I changed into a dark blue tie up bikini and wore a cover up. I took my tote bag and packed tanning oil, sunscreen.

As we made our way there, I felt a strange mix of emotions, the excitement of the day mingling with something heavier that I hadn't felt in a long time.

The beach was a stunning sight, with the sun shimmering off the water like a blanket of diamonds, but my thoughts were far from the tranquil setting. As Pablo and I strolled along the shoreline, my heart grew heavier with each step. This day had always been a difficult one, but today, with Pablo by my side, it felt different, like the past was begging to be told, to be understood.

We walked in silence for a while, our feet leaving trails in the sand. Pablo kept stealing glances at me, sensing that something was on my mind. Finally, he gently broke the silence. "Isabella, you've been quiet. What's on your mind?"

I paused, looking out at the endless horizon. The waves lapped softly against the shore, as if urging me to speak. "Today... today is the anniversary of my mother's death, she wasn't a good person Pablo."

Pablo stopped walking and turned to face me, concern etched on his face. "Isabella, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

I nodded, taking a deep breath, the memories of my childhood swirling like the waves before me. "It's not just that she's gone. It's... everything she did when she was alive. My mother wasn't the kind of person people mourn easily. She was abusive. She would come home late at night, drunk and angry, and she'd take it out on Matteo."

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of long-buried pain. Pablo's hand tightened around mine, offering silent support as I continued.

"Matteo was always the one she went after. He was older, stronger, and he thought it was his job to protect me. I remember nights when I'd hear her yelling, things crashing... I'd want to run out and help, but Matteo would always tell me to stay in my room. He never let me see what she did to him."

My voice wavered as I spoke, the memories vivid. "He'd come into my room afterward, bruised and battered, but he'd smile at me and say it was all okay, that everything was fine. He never wanted me to see how bad it really was. He'd make up stories, excuses, anything to keep me from knowing the truth."

Pablo's face was tense, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and anger on my behalf. "Isabella... that's terrible. No child should have to go through that."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. "I know. But Matteo... he was my hero. He took everything on himself so I wouldn't have to suffer. He never let her touch me, not once. But the things she did to him... I can't imagine how he dealt with it. He was just a kid, too, but he carried the weight of it all."

I looked down at the sand, my toes sinking into the grains. "And then, one day, she just... didn't come home. At first, I was relieved. I thought maybe she had just left for good. But then we found out she'd died. I felt so many things—relief, guilt, sadness... it was all mixed together. And Matteo, he never talked about it. He just kept going, kept taking care of me like he always had."

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced myself to meet Pablo's gaze. "It's been years, and I've tried to move on. I've built a life, a career, but some days... some days it just all comes back. The fear, the pain, the guilt of feeling relieved when she was gone."