Deceiving Her Ears: Ignoring Your Call-Chapter 55: Have You Two Talked It Out? Getting a Divorce?
Isaac sat on the bed with a stormy face, fished out a cigarette and lit one up.
"Fuck?"
Franklin Finch was shocked.
His joking grin vanished instantly.
"For real?"
Is his mouth magic or what?
Is it blessed or something?
He scooted over and sat down next to Isaac, "What happened? You and Natalie Kendall broke up?"
"No," Isaac exhaled a ring of smoke, his voice full of frustration he could barely hide. "We just had a couple of arguments."
"A couple of arguments? Isaac, go look in the mirror at your face. Does this look like the result of just a couple of arguments? You look like the fucking world is ending."
Isaac’s face was as cold as steel. He took a long drag on his cigarette and felt it was all pointless, then raised his hand and stubbed out the cigarette.
Franklin asked, "Did you do something you have to be sorry for? Cheat and get caught by her?"
Isaac shot him a cold look.
Franklin awkwardly said, "Or did Natalie cheat on you?"
"Motherfucker! Is infidelity all you ever think about? Can’t you let that shit go for a second? Fuck!"
"Isaac, you... fuck..."
Franklin blew up, pissed off for a moment.
He took a deep breath and, unusually serious, urged, "Honestly, I think this is fine. You guys should just end it here."
Isaac narrowed his eyes, a cold gleam shooting out: "What do you mean by that?"
"What do I mean? I mean it’s for your own good, damn it! You and Natalie and this fucked-up situation—ending it is good for everyone!"
Everyone just wants him to break up already!
Break your fucking self up!
Isaac snapped, "I’m not fucking breaking up, alright?"
——
Natalie Kendall came home after finishing her shift at her part-time job company.
The moment she walked in, she smelled something delicious.
She stopped at the entrance, hadn’t even changed her shoes yet—she could just turn and walk out right now.
Her hand had just grabbed the door handle when Isaac’s voice sounded from behind her: "You’re back."
Natalie turned around and looked at him.
He honestly doesn’t take her feelings seriously.
He doesn’t listen to a single thing she says.
She tells him she doesn’t want to see him, and he still comes to her place.
"I made pasta, your favorite."
Isaac came over, opened the shoe cabinet, took out her slippers, and put them by her feet as he bent down.
"Change your shoes and wash up, then you can eat."
He straightened up and looked at her, "I know you don’t want to see me. I’ll leave right now, but make sure you eat the pasta."
Natalie’s face was cold as ice. She only changed her shoes and walked in after hearing he was leaving.
Isaac exhaled a cloud of pent-up air and walked out the door.
But "leaving" only meant leaving her apartment.
He was still standing right outside her door.
Natalie changed clothes and went into the kitchen.
The pasta Isaac made was still in the pot, fragrant enough to make anyone’s mouth water.
But she didn’t even glance at it, just opened the cabinet, took out a cup of instant noodles, made it, then carried the noodles to the living room.
She opened her laptop, finished up some work, and ate the instant noodles at the same time.
The next day was Wednesday—no 8 a.m. class.
Natalie got plenty of sleep before tidying up and heading out.
When she opened her door, there was Isaac, one arm raised, one hand carrying a paper bag, the smell of coffee drifting out.
He looked like he hadn’t slept all night.
Stubble darkened his jaw, and his eyes were bloodshot.
He lowered his hand that was about to knock and handed her the bag, "Sandwich and coffee—have it on the road."
Natalie didn’t take it. She shut the door and brushed past him on her way to the elevator.
Isaac gritted his teeth and quickly caught up, grabbing her arm at the elevator doors.
"Natalie, come on—even a death row inmate gets a chance to appeal. You can’t just sentence me to death over a few words."
Natalie couldn’t understand why the hell he thought he had any right to demand that from her.
"Ding."
The elevator arrived.
Natalie tried to pull her arm free and get inside. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚
Isaac didn’t dare push his luck this time and let her go, watching her walk in stone-faced.
He was left outside, she inside.
He kept his eyes fastened to her face, but she looked down, expressionless.
A few seconds later, the elevator doors slowly shut.
As the numbers started going down, Isaac cursed under his breath and kicked the elevator door hard.
*
No surprise there.
When Natalie got home after class that afternoon, Isaac was there again.
Two plates of pasta were on the table, garnished with fresh basil leaves.
And all her instant noodles were missing—no guesses needed as to who was responsible.
Isaac forced her to sit at the dining table and shoved a fork into her hand.
She hadn’t eaten all day; her stomach even hurt a little.
The smell of pasta kept wafting into her nose. Eventually, she gave in, scooped up some noodles, and started eating in small bites.
Seeing that she was finally eating, Isaac smiled with relief and poured her a glass of water, sliding it over to her.
"Feeling better?"
Natalie had no idea how the hell he figured she was "better".
She set the fork down, face still cold.
Isaac got up and came to sit next to her, took her hand and kissed it, his voice both sincere and a little aggrieved: "Babe, I really know I was wrong. These past couple of days have been killing me."
As he spoke, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and buried his face in her neck, nuzzling gently.
"Don’t torture me anymore. You can’t keep torturing me like this."
Natalie’s eyes widened slightly.
Why did it suddenly feel like she was the one in the wrong? Like she was the unreasonable one?
If she had made any mistake, it was not being completely deaf.
The mistake was that she happened to hear his supposed ’truth.’
That night, they lay on the same bed together.
Isaac hugged her tightly from behind, his lips brushing the nape of her neck over and over.
Their bodies were pressed close, so she could feel every reaction he had, loud and clear.
She kept her eyes shut, pretending to sleep.
He knew she was pretending.
But he did nothing, just leaned close to her ear and whispered, "I know you have an early class tomorrow, get some sleep."
Then he got up and went to the bathroom to shower.
Probably not a hot shower.
Natalie felt absolutely nothing for his ’consideration’ and didn’t care if it was hot or cold—she rolled over and went to sleep.
The next morning, while Isaac was up early making breakfast, he got a call from his uncle.
"Isaac, did you make any progress with those photos I asked about the other day?"
With one hand holding his phone, Isaac flipped the eggs in the pan with the other.
"I think I might have something."
"For real? Who is it? Who’s the guy?"
"Uncle, how about we talk in person?"
They agreed on a time to meet, and Isaac hung up and plated the eggs.
Natalie was just about to leave when he brought out a sandwich and hot milk. "Eat this on the way."
When she didn’t take it, he blocked the door. "You can’t leave unless you take this."
Natalie stared coldly at him for a long while, then finally took the food.
Isaac smiled, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the forehead. "I’ll take you out for something nice tonight."
He left just after Natalie did.
He watched with his own eyes as she tossed both the sandwich and milk into the trash can downstairs.
Isaac’s hand froze on the car door.
His heart sank hard, he lit a cigarette, didn’t even take a drag, and put it out.
He had the wrong idea.
Natalie was even harder to win over than he’d imagined.
——
"Isaac, over here."
Jason Grant was the first to arrive.
Isaac walked over and sat down, only for Jason to press him eagerly:
"Isaac, tell me—who is the guy?"
Isaac absentmindedly rubbed his finger along the rim of his cup, then looked up: "Uncle, if you knew who the guy was, what would you do?"
Jason had previously thought Natalie was involved with some poor college student. That would have been easy—give the guy some money and be done with it.
But clearly, things were more complicated now.
Anyone who could get invited to Franklin Finch’s private parties was most likely a rich second-generation kid.
"I’m guessing he’s just playing around with Natalie. If this shady business blows up, no one comes out looking good. I just need to have a word, and he’ll dump her."
"What if it isn’t just fun and games for him?"
Isaac spoke flatly.
"What?" Jason didn’t catch that. "What did you say, Isaac?"
Isaac looked at his uncle, but his phone suddenly rang.
"Isaac, I just saw Natalie at my sister’s law firm. Did you guys settle things? Getting a divorce?"
Hearing Franklin Finch’s words, Isaac abruptly stood up.
