Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 562

"When the roadside flowers bloom, you may take your time returning." Casey's voice was soft and low, the words slipping out as if they were an unconscious confession of the heart. Words meant to be warm left a tang of bitterness in Izabella's soul. Her eyes, trying to hold back the tears, betrayed her with a telltale sting.

Back in her bedroom, Izabella's gaze immediately fell upon the divorce papers sitting on the nightstand, right where she'd left them. The only difference now was the evident creases marking the pages, signs of being handled and contemplated over and over again.

"You didn't throw it away?" Izabella asked, her voice wavering slightly as she eyed the signed document.

Shaking his head, Casey replied, "I wanted to wait for you to come back and explain—just in case you really wanted to leave, you know?" His lips curled into a bittersweet smile at the end of his sentence.

The days Izabella had vanished nearly broke Casey. He had gambled with his life, frantically searching for her while preparing for the worst outcomes: finding Izabella and meeting a tragic end with Brett if he refused to let her go, or succumbing to his own failing health before he could find her—leaving her free rather than chained by a piece of paper.

Casey never believed that Izabella would leave him for someone else. He just didn't have faith in his own health.

Swallowing hard, Izabella asked, "Why are you such a fool?"

"Because I'm Ryker Dempsey," he said.

He was the Ryker who would wait in place for her, too afraid to come closer. His inferiority complex was deeply rooted in his foolishness. Everyone used to call him a fool, unworthy of Izabella, without even the right to be by her side. He could only watch her from a distance, silently protecting her.

For over fifteen years, Ryker harbored this foolishness, letting it seep into his bones. He first saw Izabella beneath the wisteria at the orphanage, feeling an inexplicable familiarity. Clutching his favorite orphanage treat, a simple cookie, he'd saved it for ages, but when he saw her, he couldn't help but give all of it to her.

Even the orphanage director was stunned. Ryker, though foolish, never sought to please anyone.

He was a wild spirit, like a lone wolf fiercely guarding his food, sharing it for the first time with someone he had just met.

After Izabella left the orphanage, without her contact information, Ryker was desperate. He pestered the director daily to call her, sending messages, pacing around in anxiety.

He eventually learned of Izabella's birthday—May 21—and though the other kids had gifts for her, he had nothing. Apart from helping with chores and catching the occasional rat, he felt useless.

When the May cherries ripened, bright and round, he thought they matched Izabella perfectly. He wanted to make her a pair of cherry earrings, but one cherry seemed too little. So, he made a string of them, much like a skewer of candied fruit.

Her car still parked in the orphanage lot, he'd polish it every day, ensuring not a speck of dust remained.

Washing the car became his ritual as he waited for her return, which finally happened two months later, as summer was blending into autumn.

That day, Izabella wasn't alone; she brought another man with her—her husband.

She was already married.

The director mocked Ryker, "Forget about it, you're just a fool. How could someone like her ever fancy you? Even if you weren't foolish, you'd stand no chance. Do you even know what her husband does? He's the wealthiest man in R City—rich and handsome. Would someone accustomed to the finer things in life stoop to pick trash with you?"

Ryker listened to half of the director's words, the message clear: he was unworthy.

People said Izabella married well, that her husband treated her kindly. But was that the truth?

Ryker saw the contempt in Brett's eyes, a sense of superiority over everything.

Love should be equal, not one towering over the other.

After that day, Izabella disappeared from Ryker's life.

He knew so little about Izabella; he didn't even know she had been married, let alone what she did or where she lived.

Knowing she had connections at the hospital, he took a menial job there, arriving before dawn, more diligent than the watchdog at the gate.

Never before had he been so devoted to a single cause, waiting eagerly, ignored by the very person he longed to see.