Signs Left Behind
Chapter 17 - The Thread
It had been two weeks since her father was discharged from the hospital. Isabel took care of him—his diet, his needs, everything. They spent those days together, reminisced about their lives, and rediscovered old memories of Eleanor buried in the past.
He shared anecdotes, and she listened, slowly feeling the anger and resentment within her begin to fade. For the first time, she faced those emotions, not alone, but with her father by her side. As they confronted their shared loss together, she realized how much she longed for that moment.
Isabel told him everything about her new life, about Matthew, this man full of shadows who somehow managed to open her heart. About how they seemed destined to meet. It was both otherworldly and profoundly romantic.
But in those two long weeks, Matthew vanished without a trace. Sometimes, Isabel laid awake at night, wondering if he was nothing more than a dream, a fleeting illusion conjured in a time of solitude and uncertainty. Yet all she had to do was scroll through their old messages, read their words to each other, to remind herself that he was real. That what they had, it was real.
And still, the doubt troubled her.
Ethan, on the other hand, was present. He checked in on her constantly and offered his support in ways he never did before. More than once, he invited her out, but she always declined and used her father’s health as an excuse. In reality, she knew she was just avoiding the inevitable.
So one night, she finally decided to see him. It was already 11 pm when she slipped out of the house without making a sound, as William was fast asleep.
She took his father's car and drove through the quiet streets of Abbey Wood. The city lights blurred past her as she made her way to Islington, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and finality.
The sky was clear above London, and the air was cool but pleasant, not like the night she left. Her heart felt heavy but lighter at the same time.
She had spent the last few days gathering her courage, knowing that this conversation was inevitable and the time had arrived.
When she finally pulled up in front of the old apartment building, she let out a slow, shaky breath. There it was, the red door. It was strange how something so simple could hold so much weight, so many memories. She had once believed that door led to her future, but now, it was only a remnant of the past.
She stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she approached the entrance. Before she could second-guess herself, she knocked.
A few moments later, the door opened, and there he was, Ethan. His tired eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stepped aside, silently inviting her in.
The apartment smelled the same, with a faint trace of cologne and old books lingering in the air. But everything else felt different. She had changed. He had changed.
They stood in the kitchen, and at first, they just looked at each other.
Ethan smiled softly while she was trying to find the words. She took a breath and started talking about Eleanor, sharing everything she had learned, the pieces of a past she finally began to understand. Ethan listened in silence, visibly moved. He squeezed her hand gently, and she squeezed back, trying to reassure him.
“I am fine now. I understood why she left me, and I forgive her. I had a good childhood, and I have been loved in so many ways in my entire life.”
Ethan lingered near her, his presence hesitant yet hopeful. His eyes searched hers, his movements cautious. For a moment, it seemed like he might brush a kiss, but Isabel immediately tensed. Sensing her hesitation, he stopped. A flicker of understanding crossed his face, and with a quiet sigh, he pulled back. So she spoke again.
"My heart is at peace, Ethan," she murmured, her voice steady and calm. "And I want yours to be, too. I don’t want you to hold on to the pain of losing our little girl or the pain of our past. We weren’t happy—not as individuals and not as a couple. And if we weren’t happy on our own, how could we have ever been happy together?"
Ethan looked at her, his throat tight.
"You’ll always be important to me," she continued. "But I’m not the same person anymore, and neither are you. I can see you now. So we have to accept that and let it go."
Ethan’s eyes filled with unshed tears. Until this night, he had held onto the hope that her return could mean something more—that maybe they could start over. But the certainty in her voice, the quiet finality in her gaze, told him otherwise.
The woman in front of him was no longer the same Isabel who had once loved him unconditionally. She had spent the past six months finding herself, and now that she had, she was ready to let go.
"It’s no one’s fault, Ethan. I know you may not see it now, but I want you to move forward and rebuild the life you deserve. I want you to be truly happy. I really do.”
She pulled him into a tight embrace, offering him the last piece of her heart. They held onto each other, breathing in the weight of all that had been, all that would never be again. Then, she walked away, and with one last glance at the red door, Isabel left.
That night, she returned home with a newfound clarity and one less weight on her heart.
For the first time in a long while, she slept peacefully. She drifted off with a lighter heart, cradled by the memory of Eleanor’s smile, of the warmth of her embrace. But this time, it wasn’t accompanied by pain—it was filled with a peace that soothed her soul.
When the morning sun filtered through the curtains, Isabel woke up with an unfamiliar feeling, as if the dream wasn’t just a dream, but a sign, a message. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to hold onto that sense of peace for just a little longer.
Then, the sound of her phone broke the silence.
A message.
The screen lit up, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the name: Matthew.
"I’m in London. Where can I find you?"
The knot in her throat, which she thought unraveled the night before, tightened again. He was really there.
She hesitated before replying, but eventually, she sent him her location without adding anything else. She was angry with him, but at the same time, she knew there was a greater reason why their paths crossed. And it was time to face it.
Matthew didn’t even give her time to process what she wanted to say before he was already at her door in Abbey Wood.
Her father opened it, a stranger was standing outside their front door. But he recognized him immediately.
Without a word, he stepped aside and allowed him to enter. Then, he turned toward Isabel, who had just rushed down the stairs, and he gave her a knowing smile before quietly stepping outside, leaving them alone.
For a moment, they just stood there and stared at each other, unmoving. A heavy silence with all the things left unsaid and everything they didn’t yet know how to say.
"What are you doing here?" Isabel’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and distant.
Matthew looked at her and said nothing. He took a deep breath, searching for the right words while she watched him with those beautiful blue eyes that meant the world to him.
Then, he stepped forward. One step, then another, until he stood right in front of her—close enough to feel her heartbeat, even though she was trying to hide her emotions.
"You disappeared for weeks. So now tell me—why are you here?"
Matthew took her hand and brought it to his face, closing his eyes.
"I missed you so much that there aren’t enough words to describe it."
He waited and then took another long breath. “Before I met you, I was lonely and broken. I lost my parents when I was too young to fully understand, and I buried my emotions, shutting myself off from the world. But then you came into my life, and everything changed. You brought me back to life, despite your pains, your scars. Meeting you made me realize what it means to truly feel again. And for that, I will always be grateful to Eleanor.”
Isabel’s expression changed instantly. A part of her wanted to slap him, but her heart was too full. It was as if all the doubts and anger of the past days vanished the moment she saw him.
"I love you, Isabel, and I’m sorry for everything that happened to you. But I’m here, and I’m not letting you go. Do you hear me? No matter where you want to be, I’ll be right by your side."
Tears streamed down Isabel’s face as she threw herself into his arms, holding him tightly. All the emotions she had tried to suppress came rushing out, but with them came an overwhelming sense of clarity and release.
Her mother sent him to her for a reason. She knew them both, and she loved them both.
Through the tears, Isabel lifted her face to his, and they kissed passionately, holding onto each other as if letting go were not an option anymore. Their hearts beat in unison, their souls intertwined.
Again and again, he whispered, “I love you,” his voice soft but unwavering. Then, with a gentle touch, he took her hand and slipped a bracelet onto her wrist—the one that once belonged to Eleanor. He turned it over, revealing the hidden open-heart engraving inside, where Isabel’s name shimmered faintly in the light. It had been there all along, a quiet testament to a love that had never faded, waiting for this moment to find its home.
Isabel’s breath caught as she traced the delicate lines with her fingertips, tears glistening in her eyes. The weight of it—Eleanor’s love, Matthew’s promise—settled over her like a warm embrace. She looked up at him, seeing not just the man before her but the threads of their pasts woven together, stronger now than ever.