“We could have had it all.”
He had watched his girlfriend die in her ex-boyfriend’s arms. His alpha. His friend. Isaac wasn’t sure how to feel about that, it should have been him who’d comforted her, made sure she wasn’t afraid, but instead, Scott had been there, and all Isaac had done was stand there, gaping. Stunned, unable to move. Especially as her dying words were about how much she’d still loved Scott.
Death was a part of his life, so very much so. His mother, his brother… his father. And now his girlfriend Allison. His heart shattered into a million pieces.
Isaac hadn’t been sure for how long he’d been standing there as everything happened around him, and Allison’s father Chris put an arm around him and took him away. Not just away, but far away, to France.
Chris didn’t seem to be too emotional over the loss of his daughter, he’d previously lost his wife and there’d barely been any emotions there, too. Or so Isaac was told. Feeling nothing would be nice, but Isaac knew that he was feeling too much at this point.
His sleep was restless. Nightmares. Night terrors. By day he was forced to talk to one of Argent’s friends, and Isaac figured that this Isabelle was a psychiatrist or something. She encouraged him to draw again, and all he could draw was Allison. So he drew her time and time again. Sometimes he drew Void-Stiles. Or his mother. Or his father as a monster, but mostly Allison. Dead.
But while he’d been drawing, so had Isabelle. She shared with him drawings of him in various moods, usually depicting how he felt, and after the first month of being in France, one of Isabelle’s pictures showed a speck of light, and a small smile on Isaac’s lips.
“What’s that in my hands?” Isaac asked as he studied the drawing. Isabelle was incredibly talented, and likely wasted it being a psychiatrist. She had drawn him sitting down at a table, holding a blank piece of paper, or it looked like it anyway.
“It’s a blank piece of paper,” Isabelle replied. Her English was great, and that accent of hers was cute, which was wrong of Isaac to feel this way about his therapist, although she – nor Chris – had ever stated that she was his therapist. “I think you’re ready to write a letter to Allison. Tell her how you feel. I promise you that once you do that, you’ll feel lighter and you’ll rest easier.”
“I don’t really write.”
Isabelle smiled as she handed him a blank piece of paper without lines on them and a pencil. “Write or draw, it’s the same thing. As long as it comes from the heart, yes? I’m going to get us something to drink, you get started.”
It felt like an eternity until Isabelle got back, but once she did, he had drawn a heart that looked broken but was being taped together, and written a small letter to Allison.
You never fully belonged to me, Allison, and it’s strange that I’m having a hard time dealing with your death.
But that’s okay. It’s also okay that you still loved Scott, nobody really loves me, do they? I was merely someone to have a good time with, maybe even your subconscious attempt to make Scott jealous. That’s okay. Now that I’ve realized that, it’s okay. I always believed we could have had it all, I mean, your dad liked me enough. I just wanted to thank you for being there for me. Helping me grow. I merely hope that I’ve meant something to you too. Have fun wherever you are, and I pity the fool who messes with you.
Isaac nodded and he moved to show Isabelle but she shook her head and used her hands to say ‘no’ as well. “What you do with it next, is for you,” she said as she set a bottle of water down next to him. “Write more, draw more. Perhaps we can have a wander about in Paris if you’re feeling up for it next week.”
“Oh, I don’t know…”
“Next week is not today, Isaac Lahey,” Isabelle smiled at him. “But it is a goal to work towards. And if not next week, then the week after, but you and I will have a wander about in Paris one day.”
He opened the bottle of water and took a sip as he nodded. Yeah, maybe one day. As long as he stopped hiding his feelings. Deal with them instead of avoiding them. Live outwards instead of inwards. And that was the valuable lesson he had been taught today, with the simple instructions to draw something different than what he saw in his nightmares.
He was going to make it.