Page 63 of Iridescent
I turn to see Isabel hurrying out through the open doorway, lifting the skirt of her evening gown as she jogs down the steps. One of my cousins hovers anxiously in the foyer behind her, but Isabel waves them off.
Great. Exactly what I do not need right now.
I turn away, dragging a hand through my hair. “Not now,” I mutter as she comes up beside me.
“Wait, please.” Isabel reaches for my arm, and I sidestep before she can touch me. She pulls back, her eyes widening slightly at the reflex. “I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Isabel’s gaze drops, concern creasing her brows. “No, you’re not.”
“It’s nothing.” Impatience roughens my voice. “Go back inside, Isabel. This isn’t your problem.”
The last thing I need is an audience for my humiliation and panic.
“Xavi,” she says, using the nickname she used years ago. “Your mother was way out of line. I had no idea she was going to—”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I do not want to talk about my mother’s performance or the vile things she said about Yara. Not with Isabel. Not with anyone.
She nods and swallows. “What can I do? Let me help you. Please.”
I open my mouth to tell her to get lost, but I stop when I catch the hurt in her eyes and remember this is Isabel. She just lost her father and still found the room to feel sorry for me.
“I need to go to my wife.”
“I—yes.” She nods quickly. “I asked, and the chauffeur took her home a few minutes ago.”
Relief hits hard, brief and blinding, before it is replaced by the image ofYara alone, crying, thinking I—
Christ.
“I have to go.”
I pull my keys from my pocket with hands that are still not steady. By the time I reach the driver’s side door, Isabel moves in front of it.
“Xavi, wait. You can’t drive.” Her eyes search my face, then she steps closer, catching the scent on my breath. “You’ve been drinking.”
“I had a glass of wine—” I cut myself off, remembering the three glasses of scotch I had before dinner even started.
I curse under my breath.
“Let me take you home. My car is right there.” She nods toward a sleek Mercedes idling near the fountain, her chauffeur watching us with quiet uncertainty. “I’ll have my driver follow us. I can drive your car and get you out of here safely. Please, Xavi. At least until you calm down.”
I am not drunk enough to be a danger. Still, the thought of taking those winding cliffside roads with my head like this makes me hesitate. If something happened to me now, it would only hurt Yara more.
“Come on. We’ll get you home, and I promise I won’t bother you after that. I just… I don’t feel right letting you go like this.”
I clench my jaw. Every instinct rebels at the idea of Isabel of all people driving me anywhere. Yara would lose her mind if she knew. But Yara is not here. And much as I hate it, Isabel has a point. I am not exactly in my right mind.
“Fine. But not all the way home. Drop me a few blocks away.”
I cannot risk Yara seeing me pull up with Isabel.
“Of course. Whatever you want.”
Before I can change my mind, Isabel slips the keys from my hand and circles to the driver’s side of my Audi. She has kicked off her heels and is barefoot now, and for one split second I remember the countless times we slipped out of formal events like this with our shoes in our hands, laughing as we ran off to be alone.
