Conflict of Heart

Chapter 30

The bright glare of the sun's rays beat down on the pedestrians of the Manhattan sidewalks as they went about their day. There was the usual buzz in the air of rushing to appointments and trying to catch a cab to go where they needed to, but this frenetic feeling was lost on Isabella as she stepped outside into the humid day, automatically shielding her eyes with the sunglasses that were perched on the top of her head.

She wasn't sure if it was the painkillers that were administered to her or the words that the doctor spoke to her that made her feel absent-minded, but she allowed her feet to take her wherever they pleased.

As the doctor's voice tumbled in her head, she felt tears soon press against her eyes. A sudden wave of dizzying fatigue slammed into her, and she paused. With a heavy exhale, she slumped against the nearest wall. She bowed her head, lips quivering.

Less than two years.

Those were the words the doctor had indirectly said to her. Her back's condition was growing worse, and if she ever wanted to have children, it would have to be before she turned thirty. If not, her back would take too much strain from a pregnancy. And if she wanted more than one, then it was best to try for twins.

Isabella shook her head and straightened, forcing herself to keep walking. Her spine felt loose since her session with the chiropractor, and the bit of pain that she had recently receded to a dull throb. But although the medication made her head feel a little light and dazed, it was no match for the heaviness she felt in her heart.

Two years.

It was unbearable. How was she supposed to have children in such a short period of time? She didn't want a child out of wedlock, and the only possible person whom she might find herself marrying in the long run would be Damien . . . But they hadn't even discussed their own relationship, let alone having children one day. Considering all the months it had taken for them to get to this point, how much longer would it take before they marry?

She couldn't see it happening within two years.

A startled gasp flew from her throat when she was abruptly snapped back to her senses by a hand latching onto her arm. She just heard the sound of a car's horn before the grip tightened, yanking her out of the road as the car drove past, its driver yelling profanities at her.

She stumbled, her hands reaching out to grab anything to regain her balance. An arm locked around her waist, a hold so familiar that her body instantly relaxed.

But it didn't last for even a second before she was turned to face the man who had pulled her out of harm's way. Concerned hazel eyes connected with her own as soon as she had lifted her glasses from her face.

"Are you hurt?" were the first words that passed Ryker's lips, his sharp gaze taking in every inch of her, looking for injuries.

Isabella blinked, still feeling a little disoriented. "I'm okay," she muttered.

His eyes continued to scrutinize her appearance for a few seconds longer. When he seemed satisfied, he gave a subtle nod before his dark eyebrows pulled together into a frown. "What did you think you were doing walking into the street like that? Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

His sudden scolding shocked Isabella, and she twisted her lips at his words. "No, I wasn't. I just . . . had a lot on my mind. I didn't realize."

She lowered her gaze as she responded, hoping to hide the tears that were beginning to well in her eyes. She could feel Ryker's gaze on the top of her head, and he remained quiet for a time before exhaling through his nose.

"What happened?"

Isabella immediately shook her head, still avoiding his gaze. "I don't want to talk about it just yet."