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Ronan’s OCD kicked in, and his voice carried zero warmth.
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Isla seemed used to his bad temper by now. After all, if he ever stopped looking so cold and sour toward her, that would feel strange instead.
“I’m sorry,” Isla said quickly. “I’ll unpack them right away. Don’t worry. I’ll clean everything up.”
Ronan’s deep eyes slid over her. He gave a cold snort and headed straight into his room.
Isla let out a sigh. Carrying all those packages upstairs had worn her out; sweat still dotted her forehead.
Luckily, the apartment complex wasn’t fancy, but at least it was breezy and cool.
She pulled out scissors and started opening the boxes.
Inside were new bedsheets and curtains. She hadn’t been sleeping well–she couldn’t stand the light. The guest room had no curtains, and she hadn’t had a good night’s rest in days.
She’d also bought a bouquet of lilies–her favorite–and a few aroma diffusers. She had blended her own soothing oils, meant to calm the mind and restore energy, planning to use
them later.
There were also a few sets of loungewear.
It was strange. This place was unfamiliar, yet Isla somehow felt safer here than she ever had at the Beaumont residence.
Just as she finished tidying, her phone rang.
It was Jasper.
Jasper wasn’t the type to call her out of the blue.
She picked up. “What is it?”
There was a pause before Jasper spoke, “Freya’s parents passed away.”
He hung up right after saying that.
Isla’s face drained of color.
Her relationship with Freya had soured, but Freya’s parents had once treated her with some
kindness.
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After hearing about their condition, Isla had even checked into it and found they were still in the hospital but not in any critical danger.
She had planned to visit them over the weekend, once she had time.
So how could they suddenly be gone?
Isla stood there, her face drained of color, frozen for a moment before she suddenly spun around and rushed into her room.
She didn’t have time to think, nor to explain anything to Ronan–she just grabbed her bag and hurried out the door.
Dusk had already fallen outside.
Ronan heard the sound of the door slamming shut. His brows furrowed as he stepped out of his room.
The living room was empty, but the lights were still on.
What kind of bad habit was that? Leaving the lights on when she headed out?
He strode over, but then noticed a few things laid out on the table.
Picking one up, he realized it was a pack of medicinal herbs–specifically for easing leg pain.
Obviously, it was prepared for him.
Ronan froze.
On the side table was a small incense burner, still faintly smoking. The scent wasn’t strong, but the closer he leaned, the more noticeable it became. It wasn’t that cheap artificial smell of perfume; instead, it carried a strange medicinal fragrance.
Even someone like him, who hated perfumes and scents, didn’t find it unpleasant. In fact, it almost felt refreshing.
Next to it was a delicate vase with lilies, dew still clinging to their leaves.
Somehow, it gave this rented apartment–silent and lifeless for so many years–a sudden touch of warmth.
Ronan stared at the herbal pack in his hand, an unfamiliar sense of turmoil rising in his chest.
He turned toward Isla’s room. The door was wide open.
Just how rushed had she been when she left? Not only the lights, but even her bedroom door
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was left ajar.
Did she forget there was still a man living in this place with her?
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His brows knitted together, but strangely, he didn’t feel annoyed. He walked over and peeked inside. The bed was neatly made with pale pink sheets, new curtains drawn against the window. A laptop sat on the desk. The whole space gave off an air of tidiness and comfort.
A faint scent, unmistakably hers, lingered in the air.
Ronan quickly averted his gaze, feeling a little uneasy, and casually closed the door.
She wouldn’t be going out hungry again, would she?
These past few days, Isla had been either helping herself to his breakfast or ordering takeout.
Several times, she had tried to step into the kitchen, but her awkward, clueless expression was always a little amusing.
When Ronan finally realized what was happening, his expression froze.
Why did he smile?
His face darkened, and he turned back into his own room.
*****
Riversine was an upscale villa district in the city center.
Both the Beaumont and the Kingsley families had homes here, and the two estates were close to each other.
When she first moved in, the first friend she made was Freya.
Back then, Freya had thick eyebrows, bright eyes, and an honest, radiant smile. She had grabbed Isla’s hand and laughed brightly, “Hi, Isla. I’m Freya. Can I be your best friend from
now on?”
Isla had been a little shy and timid at the time. She stammered out a quiet, “O–okay,” in response to Freya’s enthusiasm.
From then on, the two of them were inseparable.
Isla was smart, but timid.
Whenever she was bullied, fiery–tempered Freya would always step in to protect her.
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Even back then, Isla had decided she would treat Freya well for life.
But in the blink of an eye, everything had changed.
Though she had been manipulated, Isla had never blamed Freya.
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Now, when she looked at the place that had held both her happiest memories and all her pain, Isla’s eyes were filled with endless sorrow.
