"How long have you been lying to me?" Isobel's voice sliced through the steady drone of the helicopter blades like a knife through silk.
Alexander's jaw tensed, a muscle ticking as his eyes flicked to the incriminating image again. His expression turned to stone. "It's not what it looks like, Isobel."
"Oh, really?" she snapped, her voice rising with fury. "Because it looks like my boyfriend—the man who said he loved me—is wrapped around another woman!"
He inhaled sharply, chest expanding as he forced himself to stay composed. The helicopter gave a subtle sway as he adjusted the controls with a tight grip.
"That's not what happened," he said evenly, eyes fixed on the horizon. "She was a fan. I was ambushed."
"A fan?" Isobel's laugh was dry, brittle. "That's the best you've got? A fan just threw herself at you and what—you just let it happen?"
"I didn't let her do anything!" Alexander barked, the sharpness in his voice slicing through the tension.
"Don't you yell at me!" she shouted back, her eyes blazing with fury as her trembling finger jabbed the air in front of him.
"I'm trying to explain, but you're not listening!" he said, his voice taut with frustration.
"Why should I listen to a liar?" she spat, poking him again, this time harder.
Her vision blurred with unshed tears. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths. She could barely hear over the roar in her ears.
Maybe she was being hormonal. Maybe this was the baby making everything more intense.
It didn't matter.
There was a photo. There was evidence. And it was him.
The helicopter gave a sudden jolt as Alexander's hand jerked slightly on the controls.
"Isobel, calm down," he warned, his voice strained. "We're flying."
"Don't tell me to calm down!" she screamed, her voice cracking with the weight of betrayal. "You think you can just sweep this under the rug? Like it's nothing? Like I'm nothing?"
"You're not nothing," he said, voice softening into something near pleading. "You're everything to me."
"Don't you dare," she hissed, shaking her head as tears spilled over her lashes. "Don't you dare use those words—
not after what I've seen."
Alexander clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. His eyes flicked from the instrument panel to her, torn. "This isn't the place for this conversation."
"No," she said, her voice icy. "You don't get to escape this. You're going to answer me right now—or take me home."
"Isobel, please…"
"Stop saying my name like that," she cut in, her voice quivering.
Everything she'd been holding back cracked open all at once. Anger. Hurt. Disbelief. Her chest felt like it might explode.
Tears streamed down her face as her hands fumbled with the seatbelt, jerking it violently.
"What are you doing?" Alexander's voice shot up, alarm spreading across his face. "Isobel, stop—"
"Take me home," she cried, shaking with rage. "I don't want to be here with you. I can't even look at you right now!"
"Isobel, sit down!" he shouted, panic edging into his voice. His hand darted out toward her reflexively. "You're going to get yourself hurt!"
"I don't care!" she screamed, trying to rise from her seat.
The helicopter lurched again, harder this time. Alexander cursed under his breath, grabbing the controls with one hand and reaching for her with the other.
She swiped at him, violently.
"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, voice raw. "You don't have the right!"
"I'm trying to keep you safe!"
"You don't care about me!" she sobbed, her fists pounding against his arm. "You never cared!"
"Stop it, Isobel!" he roared, the last thread of his patience snapping. "You're being ridiculous!"
Her breath caught, her eyes narrowing. The color in her vision shifted—no longer just red. Now it was black. Rage.
"Ridiculous?" she echoed, her voice low and dangerous. "You think I'm ridiculous for being upset that you cheated on me?"
"I didn't cheat!" he snapped, voice sharp, laced with desperation.
Suddenly, the helicopter dropped.
Isobel was slammed back into her seat, a gasp tearing from her throat. Her hands flew out, clenching the armrests as the world tilted. Her wide, terrified eyes locked onto Alexander's.
"W-What's happening?" she cried, her voice shaking.
"Turbulence," he gritted out, knuckles white on the controls. "Sit down and stay buckled."
But her fury didn't falter—it simmered beneath the fear.
"You're lying to me," she hissed, her voice low, trembling with emotion. "You're still lying."
Maybe it's the hormones, she thought. Maybe that's why I can't stop.
But the truth was—she didn't want to stop. The betrayal burned too deep.
"I'm not lying!" Alexander growled, tightening his grip on the controls as the chopper trembled again.
"You expect me to believe that?" she shouted over the roar. "After that photo?"
"Yes—because it's the truth!" he fired back, his voice rough and cracking. "Why would I lie to you, Isobel? You're
carrying my child!"
Her breath caught. Just like that, the fight froze in her chest.
"You… you know?" she whispered, voice barely audible above the engine's hum.
Alexander looked over, and for the briefest second, a small, broken smile touched his lips. "Of course I know. You really thought I wouldn't notice? I've been waiting for you to tell me."
Her lip trembled, and a tear spilled down her cheek. "Then why?" she choked. "Why would you ruin everything?"
"I didn't," he said, voice thick, raw with emotion. "That photo—it's not what you think. Please, Bel… believe me."
But the moment shattered again as the helicopter lurched violently, slamming them both back in their seats.
Alarms wailed—blaring, relentless.
Alexander's hands flew across the panel, trying to correct the course. His calm cracked—panic now etched into his
features.
"Isobel, sit down!" he barked, eyes darting between the controls and her.
But she was past reasoning. Grief, rage, fear—they all blurred together. Her hands shot out, grabbing his arm,
shaking it.
"Don't you touch the controls—land this thing!" she shouted.
The helicopter dipped again, more aggressive this time. Alexander's face paled as he fought the spiraling descent.
"Stop it, Isobel!" he bellowed. "You're going to get us killed!"
Her eyes widened at his words, but her grip stayed firm. "Then land it! Right now!"
"I can't!"
"Why not?!"
"Because we're too high!" he snarled. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he adjusted the pitch.
The aircraft spun slightly sideways—an ear-piercing whine cutting through the air.
Isobel screamed, arms clamped around her seat. Her fingers trembled. Her breathing turned to sobs.
"This is your fault!" she cried, her voice shrill.
"I am trying to save us!" he lashed back at her, his tone frustrated. He looked like he'd aged in a couple of minutes.
The helicopter shuddered once again, more violently, and Isobel yelled.
Outside was blurred as the helicopter fell nose first into the ground as Alexander lost control of the helicopter.
Isobel was holding onto her tummy as her tears flooded down, mingled with Alexander's panic stricken voice, yelling at her.
"Hold on!"
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the helicopter hit the ground.
"How long have you been lying to me?"
Isobel's voice sliced through the steady hum of the helicopter blades, sharp and cold as steel.
Alexander's jaw locked, his gaze narrowing at the glowing screen in front of him. The picture. The damning headline. His knuckles whitened around the control stick as he finally spoke, voice low and firm.
"It's not what it looks like, Isobel."
"Oh, really?" she snapped, heat rising in her voice. "Because it looks like my boyfriend—the man who swore he
loved me—is all over another woman!"
Alexander drew in a deep breath through his nose, trying to keep his voice level as the helicopter tilted slightly
beneath them. He adjusted the controls with steady fingers, masking the storm building in his chest.
He reached out with his left hand, trying to rest it gently on her arm. Maybe if I just touch her… maybe she'll calm
down.
But Isobel recoiled as if his fingers were fire.
The betrayal burned too deep.
Her chest heaved with shallow, furious breaths. Her heart pounded beneath her ribs like it was trying to claw its way
out.
"That's not what happened," he said again, slower this time. "I was ambushed. She was a fan."
"A fan?" she scoffed bitterly, a cold laugh escaping her lips like a dagger. "That's your excuse? A fan just happened
to throw herself at you, and you just happened to let her?"
"I didn't let her do anything!" Alexander snapped, his voice rising without warning.
Isobel flinched, her lower lip trembling. Her hands balled into fists in her lap as she pressed her lips together, trying
desperately not to cry.
He was yelling now. Yelling.
Where is the man who said he loved me?
"Don't yell at me!" she shouted back, voice raw, eyes blazing. She blinked rapidly to hold back tears as she jabbed a
trembling finger in his direction.
"I'm trying to explain, but you're not listening," he bit out, frustration brimming.
"Why should I listen to a liar?" she snapped, jabbing at him again, harder this time.
She was shaking now, her vision painted in red fury. Maybe she was being hormonal—maybe this was the
pregnancy—but the rage was real. The pain was real. The betrayal felt real.
And it didn't matter. There was evidence.
Suddenly, the helicopter gave a sharp jolt as Alexander's grip faltered on the controls. The cabin tilted, the engine
whining louder.
"Isobel, calm down!" he barked, struggling to stabilize them. "We're flying!"
"Don't tell me to calm down!" she screamed, her voice cracking under pressure. "You think you can just sweep this
under the rug like it's nothing? Like I'm nothing?"
"You're not nothing," he said quickly, his voice softer now, breaking. "You're everything to me."
"Don't you dare," she snarled, her body trembling. "Don't you dare say those words after what I've seen."
Alexander clenched his jaw again, sweat now glistening at his temple. His focus darted between her and the
controls.
"This isn't the place for this conversation," he said tightly.
"No," she said, her voice flat and cold as steel. "You're not getting out of this. You'll answer me right now—or take
me back home."
"Isobel, please—"
"Stop saying my name like that!" she cut him off, voice breaking completely this time.
The words hitched in her throat. All the anger, the sadness, the confusion—it rushed up all at once, drowning her.
Her breathing turned erratic, sobs threatening to erupt.
Tears began to stream freely down her cheeks as her trembling hands fumbled at her seatbelt, yanking it violently.
"What are you doing?" Alexander's voice rose in alarm, his eyes flashing with panic.
"Take me home," she demanded, every syllable jagged and sharp. "I don't want to be here with you. I don't even want to look at you!"
"Isobel, sit down!" he barked, his voice cracking as he lost the last thread of calm. "You're going to get yourself hurt!"
He didn't even register that he was yelling now.
"I don't care!" she cried, attempting to push herself up.
The helicopter rocked violently, and Alexander cursed under his breath, struggling to regain balance with one hand on the controls.
His other hand reached out to steady her—on instinct—but she slapped it away with trembling rage.
"Don't touch me!" she yelled, her voice hoarse. "You don't have the right!"
"I'm trying to keep you safe!"
"You don't care about me!" she screamed, her fists slamming against his arm. "You never cared!"
"Stop it, Isobel!" he roared, his patience snapping like glass. "You're being ridiculous!"
Her breathing hitched, her eyes blazing with something darker now.
"Ridiculous?" she echoed, voice low, lethal. Her world wasn't red anymore—it was black. "You think I'm ridiculous
for being upset that you cheated on me?"
"I didn't cheat!" he yelled, his voice cutting the air like a whip.
Suddenly, the helicopter dropped.
Isobel was thrown back into her seat with a sickening jolt. Her breath caught in her throat as her hands shot out,
clutching the armrests in a white-knuckled grip. Her wide, terrified eyes darted to his.
"W-What's happening?" she gasped, her voice fragile and trembling.
"Turbulence," Alexander bit out through clenched teeth. His hands were locked tight on the controls, knuckles
blanched. "Sit down and stay buckled."
But she could barely hear him over the thunder of her own pulse. Her chest was heaving, her heart crashing against
her ribs.
"You're lying to me," she hissed, low and venomous. Her body was shaking, adrenaline and rage colliding in her
veins. It had to be the hormones. That's why she felt so out of control.
But she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop.
"I'm not lying!" he shouted, his voice cracking under pressure. His eyes were locked on the dash, sweat trickling down his temple.
"You expect me to believe that? After that photo?" she demanded, her voice sharp, accusing.
"Yes, because it's the truth!" he fired back. "Why would I lie to you, Isobel? You're carrying my child!"
Her breath caught.
Everything paused for a moment—the chaos, the anger, the noise. Her lips parted, stunned.
"You… you know?" she whispered.
Alexander glanced at her, and for the briefest second, the hard edges of his face softened. A fragile smile flickered across his lips.
"Of course I know. You really thought I wouldn't notice?" His voice dropped, almost tender. "I've been waiting for you
to tell me."
Her lips trembled. Tears clung to her lashes. "Then why?" she breathed. "Why would you ruin everything?"
"I didn't." His voice cracked with desperation. "That photo—it's not what you think. Please, believe me."
But before either of them could say more, the helicopter lurched, a violent jolt throwing them both back into their seats. A shrill alarm erupted in the cockpit.
Alexander's hands flew over the controls, his expression twisting into panic.
"Isobel, sit down!" he yelled, the edge of fear unmistakable in his voice.
But she was already beyond logic. Her emotions swirled like a hurricane—grief, fury, heartbreak—all colliding in a
storm she couldn't escape. She reached out blindly, grabbing his arm and shaking it, hard.
The helicopter jerked again, swaying. Alexander's face drained of color as he fought to steady it.
"Stop it, Isobel!" he bellowed. "You're going to get us killed!"
Her eyes went wide at his words, but her grip didn't loosen. "Then land this thing! Right now!"
"I can't!"
"Why not?!"
"Because we're too high up!" he growled, every muscle in his body taut with strain. His focus was laser-sharp on the
controls, his voice ragged.
The helicopter dipped hard to the left.
Isobel screamed, the sound tearing from her throat as the cabin spun sideways. Everything outside blurred—
flashing lights, streaks of sky and sea. Alexander cursed loudly, his hands a blur on the panel, trying to recover
control.
"Isobel, sit down and remain calm!" he ordered, voice hoarse but commanding.
But she couldn't. Her fear clawed up her throat like a wild animal. She clung to the armrest, her knuckles bone-
white, her chest heaving.
"This is your fault!" she cried, eyes glassy with tears.
"I'm trying to save us!" he shouted, the lines in his face deepening. He looked exhausted, defeated—like he'd aged
in minutes.
Then the helicopter shuddered again—this time more violently.
Isobel shrieked as they were thrown again. The nose of the aircraft dipped steeply, the ground rushing into view
through the windshield.
Outside, everything blurred—a mad, twisting collage of sky and earth and terror.
Alexander's voice came through the chaos, wild and urgent:
"Hold on!"
Isobel's hands flew to her belly, cradling it instinctively as sobs wracked her body. Her mouth opened to speak, to
scream, to say something—
But the words never made it out.
The helicopter hit the ground.