*Isabella's POV*
Jacob is calling. On FaceTime.
My heart hammered against my ribs. Holy fuck. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose myself, to plaster a convincing smile on my face before I hit the green 'accept' button.
"Hi, Jacob," I said, my voice a little tight. His face, handsome and familiar, brightened my screen, a welcome sight that simultaneously felt like a dagger to the gut.
"Hi, sweetheart. How are you?" he greeted, his voice full of a cheerful warmth that felt like it belonged to another lifetime.
"Well, I..." I stuttered, my mind a completely blank. What the fuck was I supposed to say? 'Great, thanks! I just broke the promise to you and had sex with Damien on his desk'? No. Not that.
"Jacob, I..." I began again, but he wasn't listening. He was looking at me, his head tilted, his eyes narrowed inquisitively.
"Wait a minute," he said, his smile growing slightly. "Are you wearing my hoodie?"
Fuck. I had forgotten about that. In the hazy, guilt-ridden fog of the evening, I hadn't even noticed. I'd just grabbed the first comfy thing I could find. Of course, it was his.
"I guess I am," I replied, my voice small, barely a whisper.
"Sweetheart..." he said, the word now sounding different, laced with a new, questioning edge. The smile had completely vanished from his face, replaced by a look of serious concern.
"Jacob..." I replied, my own voice trembling.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, his eyes searching mine, looking for an answer I was terrified to give. I took a deep breath, the air catching in my throat, my mind racing, desperately trying to find the words, any words, that wouldn't shatter everything.
"Because for me, something is," he said, his voice gentle but firm, cutting through my panicked thoughts.
"What?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"You know The Vault," he said, his gaze heavy.
"Your club?" I asked, my mind trying to catch up.
"Yeah, my club. One of the bartenders was selling drugs. The police raided the club one night and... well, long story short, I'm not allowed to leave New York for a while. Until the investigation ends." He said it sadly, the light in his eyes dimming as he spoke.
"What? But did they blame you?" I asked, a surge of protective anger rising in my chest.
"I'm the owner, Isabella," he said, a bitter, resigned smile on his face. "Supposedly, I'm responsible for everything that's happening." Seeing him so sad, so defeated, it fucking hurt. It was a physical ache in my chest, a sharp pang of empathy that momentarily overshadowed my own guilt.
"I'm sorry, Jacob," I said.
"It'll be okay, don't worry, doll," he said, forcing a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"But that's not all," he added softly, his expression shifting, his eyes focusing on me with an intensity that made my stomach clench. "When I called... something else was bothering you." He looked at me with such concern, such genuine care, that I felt my carefully constructed walls start to crumble. He knew. He fucking knew something was wrong, and he wasn't going to let it go.
The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, a desperate, messy confession. "I had sex with Damien."
I braced myself for the anger, the yelling, the heartbreak. But it never came.
"I know," he said, his voice quiet, calm.
My heart stopped. "Damien told you?" I asked, my voice a nervous squeak.
"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I felt it. When it happened. It was earlier today, during work hours."
The blood drained from my face. Felt it? Oh, god. The connection. It was real. It was so fucking real.
"Yes," I stammered, the words rushing out in a torrent of guilt. "I'm sorry, we got carried away. We didn't plan it. And we don't plan on doing it again. Please don't be mad, Jacob, I..."
"Isabella, stop," he said, his voice gentle but firm, cutting through my frantic apology. "I'm not mad. A little sad, maybe, but not mad. No." He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was laced with a raw honesty that took my breath away. "If I'm being honest, that was a stupid rule. I couldn't possibly comply either if I was there alone with you. You're utterly beautiful and so fucking hot. So... I'm okay. You two can do whatever you want. No rules."
I just stared at the screen, my mouth slightly agape. I was expecting a fight, a breakup, a fucking disaster. I wasn't expecting... forgiveness. Understanding.
"I just hope you'll still want me too when I'm there," he added softly, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that made my chest ache.
I couldn't help it. I rolled my eyes, but a huge, genuine smile spread across my face. "Or maybe you can come to New York to visit some weekend," he said, scratching the back of his neck, a little awkwardly.
"Of course, silly," I said, my voice soft. "I just... not right now, I have to sort things out with university first."
"Of course, I understand," he said. "I miss you, doll. And that sweet mouth of yours," he added with a familiar, mischievous smirk.
"I miss you too, Jacob," I said, my voice dropping to a playful whisper. "And I missed your dad taste in movies. Are you still watching sad, triggering documentaries?" I asked, giggling.
"These days only when I'm alone," he responded, a smirk playing on his lips.
"And you're alone now, right?" I asked, a pang of something sharp shooting through me. He noticed it immediately, his eyes twinkling.
"Are you being jealous, doll? Still think I'm a fuck boy?" he asked, his voice full of teasing amusement.
"I don't know," I replied, trying to sound coy but failing miserably.
"Stop messing around," he said, his tone shifting, becoming serious, possessive. "I had hoped I didn't have to explicitly tell you, but you fucking own me. Nobody else is allowed to touch this body." He flexed his muscles on the screen, a ridiculous, over-the-top gesture that made me roll my eyes.
"Idiot," I muttered, but I was smiling. A real, proper smile. For the first time all day, the crushing weight of guilt had lifted, replaced by a warm, fluttering feeling that felt a lot like hope.
"Except this girl from Indiana," he said, his smirk softening into something else, something so genuine and open it made my heart do a little flip-flop. "She studies at NC State. She's a super sweet girl with a tough exterior. She has me wrapped around her finger and has ruined me for anyone else."
He was talking about me. The fucker. A deep, hot blush crept up my neck and spread across my cheeks, and I was suddenly grateful he was only seeing me through a screen. It was too much... it was a sensory overload.
"I gotta go, it's getting late," I said, my voice coming out all nervous and breathy. I needed a fucking minute to just... breathe.
"Okay, doll. Sweet dreams," he said, his voice a low, gentle rumble. He blew me a kiss, a silly, exaggerated gesture that was so purely Jacob it made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
"Night, Jacob," I said, my voice soft. I hung up before I could say something stupid, before the tears I could feel prickling at the back of my eyes actually fell. The screen went black, and I was left alone in the quiet of my room, the ghost of his smile lingering in my mind. The weight on my chest was finally gone.