A week later.
Something felt… off.
Isabelle stared at her phone, rereading Marco's last message.
Marco: "Busy today. Rain check?"
Again.
For the third time this week.
She sighed, placing her phone down on her desk. "Okay… this is getting weird."
"Trouble in paradise?" Mia asked, leaning against her table.
Isabelle forced a smile. "No. He's just… busy."
Mia raised an eyebrow. "Or avoiding you."
That hit harder than Isabelle expected.
"He's not like that," she said quickly.
"Then why does it feel like he is?" Mia countered.
Isabelle didn't answer.
Because deep down… she felt it too.
Meanwhile, Marco sat in his office, staring blankly at his laptop.
His phone buzzed.
Isabelle: "Hey… everything okay?"
He closed his eyes for a second.
"Don't," he muttered to himself. "Don't mess this up."
But instead of replying, he locked his phone.
Later that evening, Isabelle decided she had enough.
She went straight to Marco's condo.
When he opened the door, surprise flashed across his face.
"Isabelle? What are you doing here?"
She crossed her arms. "I could ask you the same thing."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… you've been distant," she said directly. "Cancelling plans. Short replies. Avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you," he said quickly.
"Really?" she shot back. "Because it feels like you are."
Marco ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I've just been busy."
"Don't," Isabelle said, her voice firm. "Don't give me that excuse. I deserve better than that."
Silence.
"Then what do you want me to say?" Marco asked, his tone sharper now.
"The truth," she answered.
He looked away.
And that was enough to hurt her.
"Wow," she whispered. "So there is something."
"It's not what you think," he said.
"Then explain it to me," she pleaded.
Marco exhaled heavily. "This… us… it's getting too serious."
Her chest tightened. "And that's a problem?"
"Yes," he admitted.
The word felt like a slap.
"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking slightly.
"Because I told you already," he said, his voice quieter now. "This is exactly what I was trying to avoid."
Isabelle shook her head, disbelief written all over her face. "So what? You're just going to run away the moment things get real?"
"I'm not running—"
"You are!" she cut him off. "You said you wanted to try, Marco. You said this was different!"
"It is!" he said, frustration rising. "And that's what scares me!"
Silence fell.
Heavy. Painful.
Isabelle swallowed hard. "So what now?"
Marco didn't answer immediately.
And that silence… said everything.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"Okay," she whispered. "I get it."
"Isabelle—"
"No," she shook her head, stepping back. "You don't get to stop me this time."
He froze.
"You don't get to pull me in… make me believe in something real… and then push me away when it gets hard," she continued, her voice trembling but strong.
Marco clenched his fists, guilt flashing across his face.
"I was willing to try," she added softly. "But I can't do this alone."
And with that, she turned and walked away.
Leaving Marco standing there—
Realizing too late that the distance he created…
Might cost him everything.