The End of a Marriage (Colette and Matheo) novel Chapter 203

Chapter 203

When the officers returned, their expressions were grim. They had

spoken with the owner of the guest house, who adamantly denied

that any break–in had occurred. He claimed there were no signs of

forced entry and dismissed Isla’s account, suggesting it was a

misunderstanding or, worse, an overreaction..

The officers noted the disarray in her room–clothes and belongings

strewn across the floor–but the owner shrugged it off as Isla’s own

messiness. “She’s just making a fuss,” he said dismissively. “There was

no one else here.”

The question hung in the cold night air, piercing Isla’s already fragile

composure.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad dream?” one of the officers asked,

his tone laced with disbelief. Isla stared at him, stunned, the words

hitting her like a slap.

A bad dream?

She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could speak, the other

officer added, “The owner said he already warned you to leave

because you hadn’t paid him last week’s rent. Are you sure you’re not

just trying to stir up trouble?”

Chapter 203

Her throat tightened, frustration and humiliation burning behind her eyes. Tears welled up, choking her words before they could form. They didn’t believe her. Not the officers, not the neighbors–no one. The realization made her want to scream, but all she could do was stand

there, silent and defeated.

Isla didn’t dare step foot inside that guest house again. The officers, with obvious irritation, went upstairs to retrieve her belongings.

Moments later, they handed her suitcase off to her on the side of the

road. “Here,” one of them muttered before the two of them

disappeared into their patrol car, their flashing lights fading into the

darkness.

And just like that, she was left standing alone on the deserted road at

2 a.m., barefoot and homeless.

Her fingers shook as she unzipped the hidden slit in her suitcase, the

place where she’d kept her emergency cash. But her worst fears were

confirmed–the money was gone. She didn’t even have to count; she

knew it had been stolen. She had nothing left.

Isla dragged her suitcase behind her, the small wheels bumping over

the uneven pavement as she wandered aimlessly through the silent

streets of Magnolia Ridge. Her breath fogged in the chilly night air, her thin pajamas offering little protection against the cold. She wished for a miracle, prayed for it, but none came.

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By the time she found herself at a small park, her legs were trembling

with exhaustion. She sank onto a weathered wooden bench, pulling

her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself for

warmth. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks as she stared into

the distance, too numb to wipe them away. She didn’t sleep that

night. She sat on that bench, awake and terrified, feeling the sharp

sting of rock bottom.

This was the lowest point of her life.

As the first light of dawn broke over the town, Isla stumbled into a

public restroom. She washed her face, changed into her only other set

of clothes, and stepped out onto the street with no plan, no money,

and no hope. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but she ignored it as

she walked the neighborhood, stopping at every store and restaurant

she could find, begging for work.

“No vacancies,” they all said, some more politely than others.

But at one café, a kind worker pointed her toward Ms. Anne’s Bed and

Breakfast. “She’s looking for help,” the woman said with a

sympathetic smile.

Clutching her suitcase, Isla made her way there.

Ms. Anne was a no–nonsense woman with sharp eyes and an air of

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authority that brooked no argument. She barely glanced at Isla before laying out the terms.

“The pay is $25 a day,” Ms. Anne said curtly. “You’ll cook, clean, make the beds, scrub the bathrooms, and greet customers politely. I’ve already got another girl, Avery, who sleeps in the basement. You’ll share with her, but I’ll charge you $100 a month for rent. You’ll also need to provide your own food. If a single morsel goes missing from

my kitchen, you’re out. Understand?”

Isla nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. It wasn’t much, but it

was something. A basement was better than sleeping on the streets.

The work was grueling, far beyond anything Isla had ever done before.

She cooked meals for up to a dozen guests daily, often twice or three

times a day, and spent hours cleaning their rooms afterward. The

toilets were the worst. Isla, who had never so much as picked up a

cleaning rag back at Thornfield Manor, found herself kneeling in

front of filthy bathroom fixtures, scrubbing until her arms ached and

the acrid smell of bleach burned her nostrils.

Every moment was a reminder of how far she had fallen.

By the end of each day, her body felt broken. Her hands were red and raw from dishwashing, her back throbbed from bending over beds and floors, and her stomach growled with hunger because she couldn’t afford more than a piece of bread or a bowl of soup each day.

Chapter 203

Late one night, as she washed dishes in the dimly lit kitchen, Isla sighed heavily, her thoughts drifting back to Thornfield Manor. She had taken so much for granted–the safety, the comfort, the warmth.

She had left with nothing but her pride and a suitcase, and that pride

had landed her here, in this hellish existence.

It was ego, she realized. Ego had driven her to leave without a plan. Ego had made her believe she could survive on her own without any

help. And now, she was paying the price.

Surely Graham would have eventually asked her to leave Thornfield Manor, but he wouldn’t have let her end up like this. He wasn’t a

heartless man. If she swallowed her pride and went back, maybe he

would help her–offer her a loan or let her use the trust fund to get some training and build a new life for herself.

The thought lingered in her mind as she dried the last plate and set it on the rack. She couldn’t keep living like this. As soon as she got her first month’s pay, she would hitch a ride back to Thornfield.

She would beg Graham if she had to. She didn’t care about her pride

anymore. She just wanted a chance to start over.

Isla turned at the soft tap on her shoulder, startled from her

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