A Bet That Changed Us ︱Pablo Gavi

55: Hurt her more

Pablo's Pov

I walked into Dr. Martinez's office the next morning with a heavy heart, the weight of my unresolved feelings and the turmoil from the day before pressing down on me. It had been a rough few weeks, and I hoped that today's session would bring some clarity.

Dr. Martinez greeted me with his usual calm demeanor, gesturing for me to take a seat. I settled into the chair, trying to find a comfortable position despite the knots in my stomach.

"Good morning, Pablo," he said. "How have you been?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Not great. I had a difficult encounter with Isabella yesterday. I'm still struggling with everything."

Dr. Martinez nodded, encouraging me to continue. "What happened?"

I took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in my throat. "There's a new intern, Angelina. She's been flirting with me, and Isabella saw it. She got upset and left the staff kitchen. I tried to talk to her, but she was hurt, and I couldn't give her the answers she needed."

Dr. Martinez's expression softened. "It sounds like a complex situation. How did you feel about what happened with Isabella?"

"I felt terrible," I admitted. "She told me she still loves me, but I didn't know how to respond. I was afraid that if I said anything, it might make things worse. I didn't want to hurt her more than I already have."

Dr. Martinez leaned forward slightly. "It's clear that you care deeply about Isabella, but you're also struggling with your own feelings and uncertainties. Can you tell me more about why you felt that expressing your feelings might hurt her?"

I stared at the floor, trying to organize my thoughts. "I'm worried that if I tell her how I feel right now, it might complicate things even further. I'm still working on myself, trying to get better, and I'm afraid that my unresolved issues could cause more pain for her. I don't want to give her false hope or lead her on if I'm not ready."

Dr. Martinez nodded thoughtfully. "It's understandable to be cautious, especially if you're still working through your own challenges. But it's also important to recognize that avoiding communication can create more confusion and hurt for both of you."

"I know," I said, my voice tinged with frustration. "I just don't know how to find the right balance. I want to be honest with her, but I'm scared of making things worse."

Dr. Martinez's gaze was steady and compassionate. "It might help to focus on your own healing first, while also being honest with Isabella about where you are emotionally. She deserves clarity, and so do you. It's okay to take time to work on yourself, but it's also important to communicate your progress and intentions."

I nodded slowly, trying to absorb his advice. "It's just hard. Seeing her with someone else, and then realizing that she still has feelings for me—it's all been overwhelming. I feel like I'm caught between wanting to fix things and needing to protect both of us from further pain."

Dr. Martinez smiled reassuringly. "Taking care of yourself and being honest with Isabella doesn't mean you have to have all the answers right away. It means being open about where you are and what you're working through. Trust the process, and remember that it's okay to seek support and take the time you need."

As the session drew to a close, I felt a bit lighter, though the road ahead was still uncertain. Dr. Martinez's words had given me some clarity on how to approach the situation with Isabella, but the emotional weight remained.

I left the office feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. The path to healing and reconciliation was far from clear, but I was determined to navigate it with honesty and care, hoping that eventually, I would find a way to mend the wounds I had caused and rebuild what had been lost.

Isabella's Pov

 hadn't seen Matteo in two days, and when he finally walked through the door of our apartment, I felt a wave of relief. The silence and solitude had been overwhelming, and I needed someone to talk to, someone who understood me. Matteo's presence was a comfort, but it also meant I had to confront the heartache that had been consuming me.

"Hey, Matteo," I said, trying to sound casual but failing to mask the strain in my voice.

"Hey, Isabella," he replied, his eyes searching mine for any sign of what had been going on. "How've you been?"

I took a deep breath, feeling the tears that had been threatening to spill for days. "I need to talk to you about something," I began, sitting down on the couch as Matteo joined me.

He looked concerned as he took a seat beside me. "What's going on?"

"I saw Pablo the other day," I said, my voice trembling. "He was with that new intern, Angelina. I tried to talk to him, but he didn't respond when I told him I still love him. It was like he was just...silent."

As I spoke, the memories of that painful encounter replayed in my mind, and the anxiety that had been building up inside me began to overflow. "I feel like everything is falling apart. I don't understand why he can't just tell me how he feels or give me some kind of answer. It's like he's pushing me away, and I don't know how to handle it."

The emotions that had been bottled up inside me finally erupted, and I started to sob uncontrollably. Matteo moved closer, wrapping an arm around me in an attempt to comfort me. "I'm here for you, Isabella. It's okay to let it out."

But as I continued to cry, the overwhelming stress and despair took a toll on my body. I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me, and my vision started to blur. My breaths came in shallow gasps, and before I could even process what was happening, I collapsed onto the couch.

"Isabella!" Matteo's voice sounded distant, filled with panic. He shook me gently, trying to rouse me, but I was barely conscious. I could hear his frantic calls for help as everything around me seemed to fade away.

When I came to, I was in the back seat of Matteo's car, and he was driving quickly, his face a mask of worry. The lights of the city flashed by as we made our way to the hospital.

"I'm sorry, Isabella. I didn't know it was this bad," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "We're almost there. Just hang in there."

By the time we arrived at the hospital, I was feeling a bit more alert, but the exhaustion and emotional strain left me feeling weak. Matteo rushed to get help, and soon, I was in an examination room with medical staff checking my vitals and asking questions.

As I lay there, trying to regain my strength, Matteo remained by my side, holding my hand tightly. "I didn't mean for things to get this way," I said weakly. "I just... couldn't handle everything anymore."

Matteo's expression softened, his eyes filled with concern. "It's okay, Isabella. You don't have to go through this alone. We'll figure it out together."

After a thorough examination, the doctors reassured me that it was likely a severe panic attack, compounded by the stress and emotional turmoil I'd been experiencing. They advised me to take it easy and focus on managing my stress.

As we left the hospital, Matteo drove me back home, his silent presence offering comfort. The gravity of the situation had hit me hard, and though I was physically okay, the emotional scars were deep.

Back at the apartment, Matteo helped me settle in and made sure I was comfortable. The conversation about Pablo and my feelings was put on hold for the moment. For now, the priority was to recover and find a way to cope with the overwhelming emotions that had pushed me to the brink.

"I'm here for you, Isabella," Matteo said softly as he sat beside me. "We'll get through this. You're not alone."

As I drifted off to sleep that night, Matteo's words were a small balm to my wounded heart. The road ahead was uncertain, but with Matteo's support and a renewed focus on taking care of myself, I hoped to find a way through the darkness and start to heal.