ISABELLA'S POV
James comes home at eleven at night and Isabella knows something is wrong before he even speaks.
She's been waiting for him all evening. She cooked dinner. She wore the dress he likes. She spent two hours doing her hair and makeup even though he's seen her without it a thousand times. She was trying to be perfect because perfect feels like the only way to keep him.
But he walks past all of it without noticing.
"We need to talk," he says and those four words destroy everything.
Isabella's stomach drops. She follows him to the living room and watches him pour himself a drink. James doesn't usually drink hard liquor. He's methodical about everything. Controlled. The fact that he's pouring whiskey means something is very wrong.
"My father called me today," James says and sits down like the words are heavy. "He wants to meet with you. With us. Before the announcement."
"Okay," Isabella says carefully. "When?"
"Tomorrow," James says. He's not looking at her. He's looking at the whiskey like it holds answers. "He had some concerns about the engagement."
The word concerns hangs in the air like poison.
"What kind of concerns?" Isabella asks even though she already knows. She's felt this coming for months.
James finally looks at her and his eyes are sad. Like he's already made a decision and he hates himself for it.
"He thinks the engagement is moving too fast," James says slowly. "He thinks I'm making a mistake."
"A mistake?" Isabella's voice comes out small.
"He thinks we're too different," James continues and each word is a knife. "He thinks your background is too different. Your family situation. Your education. The fact that you don't come from his world."
Isabella stands up because sitting still feels impossible. She walks to the window and looks out at the city lights. This is the penthouse. The place where she felt safe. The place where she thought she belonged.
"What does he want you to do?" she whispers.
"He wants me to think carefully about what I'm doing," James says. "He says that marrying you would be a mistake. That I'm young and in love and not thinking clearly."
"And what do you think?" Isabella asks but she's afraid of the answer.
"I told him I love you," James says. "I told him that I want to marry you. I told him that what matters is how I feel, not his opinion."
Isabella turns around and there's hope in her chest again. Maybe it's going to be okay. Maybe James will choose her.
But then she sees his face and the hope dies.
"But he made it clear that if I go through with this, there will be consequences," James says. "He said my position at the company would be at risk. He said he would cut me off financially. He said that I would lose everything if I choose you."
The words don't connect into anything that makes sense.
"He's threatening you?" Isabella asks.
"Not threatening," James says quietly. "Just being clear about what happens if I don't listen to him."
Isabella walks to the couch and sits down because her legs won't hold her anymore. She's being offered a choice and she doesn't know it yet. James is being offered a choice and she doesn't know what he's going to decide.
"What do you want to do?" she asks.
James comes and sits beside her but he doesn't touch her. He just sits there like he's made of stone.
"I want to fight for you," he says. "I want to tell my father to go to hell. I want to marry you and build a life with you and prove him wrong."
"But you're not going to," Isabella says. It's not a question.
"I don't know," James says and his voice breaks. "I don't know what to do."
Isabella feels something crack open inside her chest. This is the moment. This is the moment where she should fight. Where she should tell him that she's worth fighting for. Where she should demand that he choose her.
Instead, she says, "I can change."
James looks at her like she just said something insane.
"I can be more like what your family wants," Isabella continues. The words are coming now and she can't stop them. "I can take etiquette classes. I can learn about your world. I can become the kind of woman your father thinks is suitable. I can be better. I can be whoever you need me to be."
"Isabella, no," James says.
"Yes," Isabella says desperately. "I can do this. Just tell me what they want and I'll become it. I'll learn to fit in. I'll prove to your father that I belong in your world."
James finally reaches for her and pulls her close. He holds her while she falls apart and she thinks maybe it's going to be okay. Maybe her willingness to change everything about herself will be enough to save them.
She doesn't know yet that it won't be.
She doesn't know that no amount of changing will ever make her suitable in his father's eyes.
That night, Isabella lies awake in the dark and makes a list in her head of all the ways she can transform herself.
She'll cut her hair shorter. More sophisticated. She'll learn which fork to use at fancy dinners. She'll study his world. She'll erase the girl from the small town and become someone worthy of James Mitchell. She'll sand away all her rough edges until she's smooth and polished and acceptable.
She'll become a ghost of herself if that's what it takes to keep him.
James sleeps beside her but his arms feel distant even when he's holding her. Like he's already letting go. Like he's preparing himself for something.
The next morning, Isabella wakes up to find James already out of bed. He's showering. She can hear the water running. She lies there and realizes that today is the day his family will meet with them. Today is the day they'll judge her and find her wanting. Today is the day everything changes.
She gets up and puts on her best clothes. She does her makeup carefully. She tries to look less like a girl from a small town and more like a woman from James's world. She looks in the mirror and barely recognizes herself.
When James comes out of the bathroom, he's already dressed for work. He's wearing his armor. His business suit. His expensive watch. He looks like the man she first met at the charity gala. Untouchable. Powerful. Far away from her.
"I love you," Isabella says because she needs to hear him say it back.
"I love you too," James says but his voice sounds like goodbye.
He kisses her on the forehead like she's something fragile that might break if he holds too tight. Like he's already decided to let her fall.
"I have an early meeting," he says. "I won't be home for lunch. But I'll be back tonight and we'll talk about everything. Okay?"
"Okay," Isabella says.
He walks toward the door and Isabella feels something shift in the universe.
"James," she calls out.
He turns around and looks at her and for just a second, she sees the truth in his eyes. She sees a man who's already made his choice. A man who's already decided what he's going to do. A man who came home last night to warn her because he couldn't bring himself to just destroy her without giving her time to prepare.
"I would choose you," Isabella says. "If it was my father versus you, I would choose you."
James looks at her for a long moment and then he nods like he understands what she's saying. Like he understands that she's willing to lose everything for him and that's exactly why he has to let her go.
"I know," he says quietly.
And then he walks out the door.
Three weeks later, Isabella will be standing on a stage in front of cameras when James announces that she's unsuitable.
But right now, in this moment, she doesn't know that yet.
Right now, she's just a woman who loves a man who loves her but not enough.
And that's the most dangerous thing of all.