Family Of His Own. Catherine Lanigan

      “Scott, it’s New Year’s Eve,” she replied, her eyes filling with confusion. Then, her eyes misted as if she was truly disappointed that he was leaving. With a shock, he thought: She loves me.

      “Six!”

      “I know. It can’t be helped.”

      “Five!”

      Isabelle stopped dancing. She dropped her arms. “What is it? Someone else?”

      She loves me not.

      “What?” he asked incredulously.

      “Four!”

      “There’s only one reason you would leave me here on New Year’s Eve in the middle of all of our friends...”

      “Isabelle, there’s never been anyone but you. You know that! You have to know that,” he urged. She loves me.

      “Three!”

      He stared at her. She loves me not. “If there was someone else, would that even matter to you? You’ve never come close to committing to me.”

      “Two!”

      Isabelle’s eyes watered, but she didn’t answer him.

      Scott took a step back from her. She backed up a step. Tiny movements, yet that distance between them felt as wide as the universe. This was Isabelle. His Isabelle. Or so he’d thought.

      “One!”

      “Happy New Year, Isabelle.”

      Scott moved past her and stalked toward the door. Never had he thought his New Year’s Eve would turn out like this. As the clock struck midnight, Scott had turned onto a new path in his life. He was finished with being underappreciated and inconsequential. Isabelle only paid attention to him when it suited her and she didn’t have anything better to do. Of course she wouldn’t commit to him. He was nothing but detritus to her. No more. His anger toppled the pedestal he’d put her on.

      He would regret not kissing Isabelle soundly that night, but the last chime of the New Year’s clock was Scott’s signal to make some big changes in his life.

      And he was ready.