The Extraordinary Bride Of The Wyndham Family (Isla and Gabriel) novel Chapter 134

That evening, as the last guests trickled out of the mansion, only Sofie and Betsy remained behind. Neither could bear to leave Isla alone in such a fragile state—not after all that had transpired. They both understood deeply that Isla needed someone close by, a comforting presence to sit quietly with her through the heavy silence.

By the time dawn broke, a softer peace had settled over the grand estate. Golden sunlight streamed gently through the glass walls of the dining hall, casting a warm glow on everything it touched. Gabriel and Isla sat side by side at the expansive marble dining table, their faces still shadowed by grief. Sofie and Betsy soon joined them, the gentle clatter of cutlery and soft murmurs of conversation filling the room’s stillness.

In the background, Magdalene and the maids moved discreetly, their footsteps light as they brought fresh juice and an assortment of breakfast pastries to the table. Despite the cozy atmosphere, the heavy weight of sorrow lingered in the air like a thick fog, refusing to lift.

The conversation drifted toward lighter topics—the sudden shift in weather, snippets of news from outside—anything to coax even a faint smile from Isla. Her laughter, when it came, was fragile and fleeting, her smile barely touching her eyes, as if happiness had become a distant memory. Gabriel watched her intently, his heart silently breaking with every subtle sign of her pain.

Though he wore a calm expression and managed a steady smile, it was all a carefully crafted facade. Inside, he was shattered, torn apart by the loss and the slow, painful process of healing. He knew it would take time—perhaps a long time—before he saw his bright, joyful Isla again.

After a thoughtful pause, Gabriel cleared his throat softly and addressed Betsy. “I’m not sure how long you both intend to stay,” he began, “but if it’s not too much to ask, could you take a week off work? I’ll be tied up with things in the coming days, and I want her to be surrounded by people I trust.”

Without hesitation, Betsy replied, “Of course, I can do that. I was planning to stay a few more days anyway, so don’t worry. She’ll be alright.”

Gabriel’s shoulders eased slightly, relief flickering across his face. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with gratitude.

Betsy smiled gently. “You don’t have to thank me, Gabriel. Isla is like the sister I never had. Her happiness means everything to me.”

Suddenly, Sofie’s voice cracked as she sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She’s hurting so much,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t stand seeing her like this.”

“Sofie, please,” Betsy chided softly but firmly. “Crying won’t help her right now.”

Sofie nodded, hastily wiping her eyes, though her lips quivered as she struggled to keep her composure.

Just then, the door opened, breaking the heavy silence. Magdalene entered with her usual composed demeanor. “Mr. Wyndham,” she announced politely, “Mr. Sterling and Mr. Green are here to see you.”

Gabriel nodded. “Please, show them in. I was expecting them.”

Magdalene gave a respectful nod before stepping out. Moments later, the door swung open again, revealing two familiar faces—Peter Sterling and Ben Green, Gabriel’s closest friends.

Their normally bright and confident expressions were subdued, marked by a shared sorrow. They moved quietly into the room, their presence somehow softening the atmosphere.

Ben was the first to approach Gabriel, pulling him into a firm, supportive hug while murmuring something only Gabriel could hear. Meanwhile, Peter settled beside Isla, speaking in a low, soothing tone.

Isla listened attentively, nodding occasionally. A small smile flickered across her lips, though it failed to reach her eyes.

Peter could feel the depth of her pain—the unbearable loss of a child.

Ben, however, was never one for quiet sympathy. He believed laughter could break down walls, not tears. As he turned toward Isla, the familiar spark of mischief and warmth returned to his eyes.

“Come on, my fighter,” Ben said, his voice teasing but filled with genuine care as he stood before her. “Don’t let this silence swallow you whole. You should be busy making more babies, not drowning in sorrow.”

The room fell utterly still. Every head snapped toward him in surprise.

“Ben!” several voices exclaimed simultaneously—Gabriel, Betsy, even Sofie. Their disapproving glares could have burned through steel.

Ben just shrugged, unfazed. “What?” he asked, still playful but sincere. “I’m doing what the rest of you are too afraid to try. I’m trying to make my friend feel alive again. And trust me—she needs this.”

“Any complications?” he asked immediately, concern sharpening his tone.

She shook her head gently. “No complications. Just a slight headache, but I’m taking medication for it.”

He exhaled, relief washing over him.

Ben grinned triumphantly. “Then that’s it! Be happy. Eat well. Laugh like nothing bad ever happened. Invite those beautiful children back into your life. Start now, and trust me, Isla—it will work.”

Everyone smiled, the oppressive tension finally lifting from the room, replaced by warmth and hope.

“You’re such a darling, Ben,” Isla said with a small, genuine laugh. She stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

He returned the embrace, patting her back gently. “That’s my girl,” he said softly. “That’s the Isla I know.”

Sofie broke down into tears again, but this time, they were tears of relief. Betsy chuckled quietly, wiping her own eyes.

And for the first time since the tragedy, Gabriel saw a flicker of light return to his wife’s eyes.

It was a small smile—nothing grand.

But to him, it meant everything.