Not So Sweet Love

{ Chapter 2 }

Image of  Maxwell Parker -->
(Cody Christian)

Isabella's P.O.V

     A sigh escaped my lips as I sat down on my favorite sofa and turned on Netflix. With a bowl of popcorn in one hand I reached for the remote.

     "BELLA LET ME IN WE NEED TO-", before he could finish the sentence a huge stream of rain started pouring outside cutting him off.

     A smirk formed on my face when I realized there was nothing over the door to prevent him from getting soaked. I mentally high fived Mother Nature and then turned my attention back to what really mattered, my popcorn.
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     30 minutes later I decided to be the nice person I am and open door.... Okay MAYBE it was because the show ended and I ran out of popcorn. I took slow steps trying to mentally prepare my self for the shit storm that was about to happen.

    As soon as I opened the door he ran in and grabbed the towel hanging next to the door wrapping himself in it. He looked exactly like he did 2 years ago. Dammit why couldn't he have gotten uglier.

     He looked me up and down his eyes holding so much emotion it felt like it almost hurt him to look at me. "Bella you haven't changed a bit", and then he gave me his signature smile, the one that drew me to him the first time we met.

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I stared at the clock counting the seconds until my shift ended and I could get out of here. I had finally saved up enough money to buy my first car and today was the day I was going to the dealership to pick it up. I sighed, 2 more hours to go. I looked out the window, it had been raining since this morning but now at 5 o'clock in the afternoon it was pouring. The chime on the door sounded indicating someone had walked in.

I turned towards the door and my eyes nearly fell out of my eye sockets. He made his way towards the counter where I was taking orders and took a seat in the chair right in front of me."U-mm c-can I take yo-urr order?" I stumbled over my words. I mentally cursed at myself. Get it together Bella he's just a guy. An extremely HOT guy.

"I sure hope so" , then he smiled at me, and just like that, I melted.

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    I sighed, this was not going to end well. "Do you need something?, like breaking my heart into a million little pieces? Oh wait! You already did that", I said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

    He looked guilty. Good. "Bella just listen to what I have to say I-"

    I scoffed,  interrupting him " No you listen Maxwell", I said his name with anger and venom. " You don't get to come into MY house and use that name like you fucking know me, when you don't. I will give you 2 minutes, then you will leave my house, and I will never see your face again. "

    His face looked so sad I almost felt bad. Almost, "Okay, Isabella I'm sorry for what I did to you 2 years ago, I regret that moment every single day of my life. I was just a stupid 18 year old kid. Bella you have to understand ,it was a moment of weakness . You left with out saying anything to me and that hurt. We were together for 2 years, I hoped you could've at least told me you were leaving I-"

    "Times up, out the door you go", I pushed him out the door into the pouring rain. I was about to slam the door on his face when I remembered something. " Oh yeah I've always wanted to tell you this", I leaned in,his face only inches away and whispered into his ear, "Go ... fuck ... yourself." And with those final words I once again slammed the door on his face and damn did that feel good.

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"Knock, knock" I flung the door open.

"DID I NOT just tell you to go fuck yourself!"

"Um-mm I'm just t-he paperboy", A small kid who couldn't be older than 16 stammered obviously scared out of his mind. Well shit.

I sighed, "I'm sorry you weren't the person I thought you were."

The poor boy stumbled over his feet almost falling into the bushes, " Th-is letter came for an Isabella Carson."

I grabbed the letter looking over it to see who could've possibly sent me a letter when I was just a call away. I looked up, raising my eyebrows, "You can go now."

"R-rig-httt", and then he scurried off onto his bike almost taking my mailbox with him.

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    I plopped onto my bed, trying to delay opening the letter for as long as I could. I didn't know what to expect and I hated not knowing.

     I knew who the letter was from, I figured it out the moment I saw her handwriting. How could I not know the handwriting of the girl that would come over to my house at 1 am just to console me, the girl that would stay over at my house more than her own, the girl that was there for me when my parents wouldn't even glance at me.

     The girl that backstabbed me in the worst possible way, when I was the most vulnerable.