"Look at you, Isabella," he said, his voice deep, controlled, but sharp with fury. "Is this what you've become? Stumbling into the night, reeking of alcohol, humiliating our family name?"
Bella straightened her back, defiance in her posture. The alcohol still fogged her brain, but her spirit burned brighter than ever. "This is who I am, Dad. I'm not hiding anymore."
His jaw clenched. "Who you are? No, Isabella. This—this thing—is a disgrace. You've gone back to dressing like a boy, parading yourself in those filthy clubs. And worse…" He spat the word like venom. "…a lesbian club. Do you understand what people will say? What they already whisper behind our backs?"
Becca shifted nervously by the door, her eyes darting between them.
Bella's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Whisper? Let them shout, for all I care. I'm not ashamed of who I am. I love women, Dad. I always have, and I always will. No amount of your lectures or punishments will change that."
Her father's face turned red, veins tightening along his neck. "You think this is pride? You think this rebellion makes you strong? You are destroying your life, Isabella. Do you want to drag us into the mud with you? Do you want your mother and I to live every day humiliated by your choices?"
Bella's eyes flared. "No, Dad. What humiliates you is that I'm not your perfect little doll anymore. That I refuse to live my life pleasing society while dying inside. You and Mom left me to figure out myself. And I did. I figured out I'll never love men. I'll never marry the 'right boy' you dream of. This is me. Get used to it."
Her father's hand shook as he pointed at her. "You ungrateful child…"
Her mother quickly reached for his arm. "Please, let it go. She's tired, drunk. We can talk tomorrow—"
"Tomorrow?" he barked, yanking his arm away. "No. This ends tonight!"
Bella took a step forward, eyes locked on him, refusing to back down. "End what? Me? Because that's what you want, isn't it? For me to disappear, so you won't be embarrassed anymore. Well, I'm not disappearing, Dad. And I'm not changing. You can hate me for it, but I'll love women until the day I die. Just disown me now, it will make things better for your family name"
The words landed like a slap—and then came the real one.
Her father's hand swung sharply across her face. The sound cracked through the room.
Becca and Ruth gasped, rushing forward, but Bella stood frozen, her cheek burning, her chest heaving as she stared at him with a mix of pain and fury.
Her mother shoved herself between them, her voice breaking. "Enough! Stop it, both of you!"
But before she could say more, her body wavered. Her face drained of color, and she clutched her chest.
"M-Mother?" Bella stammered.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed.
"Claire!" her husband roared, dropping beside her.
"Get the car ready! Now!" Becca screamed at the servant as chaos erupted.
---
THE HOSPITAL
The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air. Bright lights reflected off gleaming tiles as Bella's mother was wheeled into the emergency ward.
Bella stumbled after, her legs weak, her drunken haze making it worse. Becca kept a tight hold on her arm, practically dragging her forward.
"Please, Bella, calm down—"
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Bella snapped, tears brimming in her eyes.
And then—she froze.
Standing in a white coat, clipboard in hand, was a familiar face.
Ava.
Her hair was neatly tied back, her expression professional but suddenly faltering when her eyes landed on Bella.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled. Ava's eyes flickered—recognition, shock, then something softer. But Bella's parents, frantic with worry, didn't notice.
"Doctor, please—help my wife!" her father pleaded, unaware of the history simmering between his daughter and the doctor before him.
Ava gave a small nod, her tone calm. "We'll take good care of her. Please wait outside."
Bella staggered, clutching Becca tighter as her heart twisted. She wanted to speak, to call her name, but her throat locked.
Becca, meanwhile, stared at Ava with awe. It's her. Dr. Lily… my idol. Her grip on Bella tightened, partly to support her drunken weight, partly because she couldn't take her eyes off the woman who seemed larger than life.
Bella looked at Ava with a mixture of longing and shame, her cheek still burning from her father's slap. Ava's gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary before she turned to the medical staff, her voice firm, all business.
But inside, Ava's heart was racing.
Because she had just seen Isabella again—and she wasn't sure she was ready.
The air outside the patient's room was heavy with tension. The family still bickered in hushed voices, though the weight of what had just happened silenced them more than their anger ever could. Ava slipped out, this time with a nose mask pulled over her face. She didn't want Adrian recognizing her—not here, not like this.
Her calm, professional words reassured them, "She's stable now. No need to panic sir."
But even as Adrian brushed past her, rushing into his wife's room, Ava's eyes betrayed her heart. Just for a second, they lingered—on Isabella.
And Becca caught it. She watched how Ava's gaze softened, then snapped back to ice as Ava turned to leave. Something was there, something unspoken.
"Bella," Becca whispered, gripping her arm, "why did she look at you like that."
Isabella shrugged, her throat tight.
"I will do some enquiry about mum, you can go back home, I will call you if anything" She moved, not entirely steady, the wine she'd drunk earlier humming in her blood. She caught Ava just before the office door closed, pressing her palm against the frame.
Ava's eyes flashed annoyance, but underneath it… hurt.
"I told you I don't want to see you again," Ava said, her voice firm but low.
Isabella's lips trembled as she blurted, "I want to know something. Do you love Dolly? Did you… stop loving me?"
The words were like knives between them. Ava stiffened, her jaw clenching. "You're drunk, Isabella. Is that what you went to do after you left here?"
Isabella tried to step closer, but Ava shifted away, keeping the desk between them.
"Bella, you need to leave. I don't want trouble with your dad."
But Isabella's voice cracked, desperate, "Did you stop fighting with me?"
Ava's hand slammed the desk, her eyes blazing. "I never stopped! You pushed me away. You never looked for me. I looked for you, Bella, and every time—every single time—I was rejected. What were you expecting from me? To wait forever? I'm with Dolly now. Whether I love her or not is none of your business."
Her voice broke on that last word, but she masked it quickly, straightening her coat.
Isabella's eyes glistened, her words spilling recklessly, "Ava, I can't let anyone have you. I've tried, but I can't. You're in my head, you never left. I can't—"
"Stop," Ava cut her off, her chest heaving. "You have to leave. Now."
But before Isabella could respond, her body gave in. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, drunk and exhausted, straight into Ava's arms. Ava caught her before she hit the floor, her breath hitching at the familiar weight of the woman she loves more than herself.
"Damn it, Bella…" Ava whispered, struggling to hold her upright. Isabella was heavier than she remembered, or maybe it was the sheer burden of memories pressing down on her.
She lowered her carefully onto the couch, brushing hair from her face. The years apart had not dulled her beauty—if anything, it made it sharper, more painful to look at.