Chapter 100
She turned and faced him, her heart aching. He’s sorry? she thought bitterly. Did he even understand what that word meant anymore?
“I was wrong, and you were right,” Gabriel said quietly. “I should have listened to you. I should have believed your words instead. I’m truly sorry, love. Please… forgive me this once.” Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn.net
Isla’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Her lips trembled, but no words came out. She wanted to speak, to scream, but her voice refused to obey.
Why now? she thought. Was he apologizing because he finally realized the truth on his own? Or because Alfred had confessed? If it was because of Alfred, then she wasn’t sure she could forgive him.
If the old man hadn’t revealed his secret–his little “game,” as he called it–would Gabriel still have apologized? Would he have still cared?
He had said they should “go back to how things were.” That he would take responsibility for the baby, not because he believed it was his, but because he didn’t want a scandal.
Her chest tightened with pain. How could she forgive that? She couldn’t–not until he understood the depth of what he’d done. Not until his apology came from his heart, not from guilt or convenience.
“Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling. She needed to hear it from him.
Gabriel dropped the granite pot into the sink and rinsed his hands. Then he started walking toward her.
“Stop. Stay away from me,” Isla warned, her red eyes glaring through her tears.
He froze but didn’t turn away. “Okay. But please, hear me out.” His voice softened. “I’m sorry because I was a fool not to believe you, my love p>
Isla let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Love?” she scoffed. “That word doesn’t sound right coming from you p>
He continued anyway, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry because I finally found out the truth. Someone staged everything. The original test results were swapped and replaced with fakes. I just confirmed it myself. Isla, I’m so sorry p>
Her tears came faster now, rolling down her cheeks as she hugged herself. So Alfred had told him. That was it then. If the old man had stayed silent, Gabriel would never have known, never have apologized.
“I’m sorry,” she said shakily, “but I can’t forgive you.” She sniffled and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
“You should have believed me when I told you the baby was yours.” Her voice rose as anger began to mix with her pain. She took a few steps toward him, her eyes blazing.
“You should have fought for us–for the truth. You should have trusted the love I gave you. But you didn’t. You only believed what you wanted to believe.” Her tears fell freely now, her voice cracking. “This apology doesn’t feel genuine, Gabriel. I’ve tolerated so much in this marriage p>
Gabriel’s chest ached at the sight of her crying. He wanted to hold her, to wipe away her tears, but he couldn’t.
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Not now. He’d lost the right to touch her.
He wasn’t good with words, and every sentence he wanted to say sounded wrong in his head. How could he convince her that he did believe her that his search for the truth was driven by faith, not doubt?
“If you were truly sorry,” Isla said, her tone breaking, “you would’ve done your own investigation earlier. You would’ve shown that you care p>
Gabriel clenched his jaw, guilt pressing hard against his chest. He had no excuse. But he couldn’t let her walk away, not again.
As Isla turned and started toward the door, his voice stopped her.
“I did believe you,” he said, his tone heavy with sincerity. “That’s why I went for the original test results myself p>
She stopped but didn’t turn around.
“I believe in the love we shared, Isla,” Gabriel said softly. “I do. And right now, I’m being honest with you. But if you still can’t forgive me, then I’ll accept that. I’ll take whatever punishment you think I deserve p>
His words hung in the air like a fragile promise. Isla stood still for a moment, then slowly wiped her tears. She couldn’t speak her heart was too full. All she could do was look at him, silently caught between anger and the love she wished she could deny.
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Florence
Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.