Chapter 5
Isolde’s POV
The car smelled of leather and a faint, cool fragrance.
I opened my eyes groggily. My throat burned, dry and raw.
As my vision cleared, I saw the roof of an SUV above me.
The leather seat beneath me was soft, the heat was on high, and warm air wrapped around my feverish, aching body.
One hand was braced behind my back. Another was pulling the cashmere blanket back up from my waist.
“Isolde?” a low, husky voice said near my ear.
I turned my head with effort and met Louis’s bloodshot eyes.
He usually took such care with his hair, but now it was a mess. A few damp strands clung to his forehead, making him look unusually disheveled.
“You’re finally awake.” He let out a breath and reached for my forehead.
I turned away instinctively.
His hand stopped in midair, then slowly withdrew.
If this had happened before, seeing him so anxious would have softened me at once. I might even have thought the whole miserable trip had been worth it, just because he looked worried.
But now, even moving felt exhausting.
All I could think was that we really were wrong for each other.
In his world of excitement and noise, I would always be the one dragging behind.
“Water...” I whispered. The cracked corners of my mouth stung.
“Okay—okay.” Louis hurriedly turned to look for it.
“The thermos is under the glove compartment.”
The deep, cool voice from the front seat cut cleanly through his panic.
I looked past Louis’s shoulder.
The man in the driver’s seat sat straight-backed, his black cashmere coat drawn into sharp lines over broad shoulders. Passing streetlights briefly lit the cold planes of his profile.
Graham.
Only then did I realize that the faint scent in the car—the one that had made me feel oddly at ease—was his.
“Graham...” I called weakly.
He didn’t turn around. His hands stayed steady on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the snow-dark road ahead.
“Now that you’re awake, close your eyes and rest. Don’t talk.”
His tone was as calm and distant as ever, and somehow that made me feel safer.
In the Cox family, Louis was always the one causing trouble, and Graham was always the one cleaning it up.
He was stern, restrained, almost cold.
But if he said he would do something, he always did.
The fact that he had come up the mountain himself in the middle of a snowstorm was already more than I could repay.
“Thank you, Graham,” I said quietly.
His hands on the wheel paused for half a beat, but his voice stayed level. “Louis. Pour the water.”
Louis quickly unscrewed the thermos and brought the warm water carefully to my lips.
It soothed the fire in my throat almost immediately.
I had only taken a few sips when his phone started vibrating.
Louis pulled it out, took one look at the screen, and went pale.
“It’s Mom...”
He answered with trembling fingers.
The car was so quiet that even without speakerphone, Aria Clark’s sharp voice came through clearly.
“Louis, have you lost your mind? With Isolde’s health, you took her camping on a mountain in the middle of the night?”
“Mom, I—”
“Shut up. If your brother hadn’t called me, I still wouldn’t know what a mess you caused. Take Isolde straight back to Porter Manor. Now.”
Louis hunched into himself and didn’t dare answer.
“I’ll speak to Mr. Porter myself. You just wait until you get back.”
Then she hung up.
Louis lowered his phone and looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m sorry, Isolde. This is all my fault. I didn’t take care of you.”
I leaned against the seat and looked at him.
It wasn’t pity.
I was simply too tired to listen to them argue anymore.
I cleared my throat softly and spoke toward the phone still in his hand. “Mrs. Cox... please don’t blame Louis. I’m the one who wanted to see the snow.”
The air in the car seemed to turn colder.
Louis stared at me, stunned.
Even I found myself ridiculous.
Maybe it was just habit.
I had spent too long smoothing things over for him whenever he failed.
There was a pause on the other end. In the end, Aria only told Louis to take care of me before hanging up.
“Isolde...” Louis looked moved and reached for my hand.
At that exact moment—
the tires slipped on the snow, and the SUV lurched hard.
Louis grabbed at empty air.
I looked up toward the front.
Graham’s long fingers were locked tight around the steering wheel, his voice cold as the storm outside. “The road is slippery. Sit still.”
The SUV steadied quickly and kept moving through the snow toward the city.
Half an hour later, the car rolled to a stop outside Porter Manor.
The front gate was already open, headlights turning the snow white.
My parents were waiting outside in heavy coats, and Leo stood beside them carrying a medical kit.
That was like Graham—thorough enough to arrange a private doctor ahead of time.
The door opened, and wind and snow rushed in at once.
Louis unbuckled himself, bent down, and lifted me out.
“Isolde!” My mother hurried over, eyes red, and touched my forehead. “How did your fever get this high?”
My father, Andrew Porter, looked furious. The glare he gave Louis was dark and cutting, only restrained by the presence of Graham and the Cox family name.
The door on the other side shut, and Graham came around the front of the SUV.
He was carrying the blanket that had been over me. When he reached me, he draped it over my shoulders again.
The faint pine-cool scent wrapped around me and blocked the sharp night wind.
“Graham, thank you for everything tonight,” my father said, his tone far more controlled when addressing him.
“You’re too kind, Mr. Porter.” Graham gave a slight nod. His gaze swept over my face without lingering. “It’s cold outside. Let the doctor take Isolde in first.”
Louis carried me upstairs to my bedroom.
The moment I was back in my own bed, the last of the tension in my body seemed to give way, leaving only exhaustion and deep, aching pain.
Leo worked efficiently—checking my temperature, preparing medicine, starting the IV.
The cold sting of the needle pierced the back of my hand, and the medicine began to drip slowly through the line.
Louis dragged a chair to the bedside and sat down. He took my free hand in both of his and pressed it against his face.
“Isolde, I’m not leaving.” He looked at me stubbornly. “I’m staying here tonight. Until your fever breaks.”
I looked down at him, too tired to say anything.
Soft footsteps sounded outside the door.
I turned my head.
Graham was standing just beyond the bedroom door, which was left slightly ajar.
The dim hallway light behind him kept most of his face in shadow.
He stood there in silence, looking through the narrow gap at Louis’s hands wrapped tightly around mine.
I couldn’t make out his full expression, but I could feel the depth of that gaze—still, cold, and holding back something that made me uneasy.
After a few seconds, he looked away and turned.
His tall figure disappeared down the hallway.
Not long after, I heard a car start downstairs.
The sound faded farther and farther away, until it vanished completely into the wind and snow.
