Chapter 1: Trapped

My dearest Isabella,

By the time you receive this letter I shall already have crossed the veil that conceals life eternal from our limited mortal point of view. I want you to know, my child, that I did so with a sweet peace of mind along with the deepest conviction of having lived a fulfilling and content life.

I apologize to you for not having informed you about my condition prior to travelling abroad, but my wish was to die the same way I enjoyed living: in a silent and yet splendid way without the burden of weary and tearful farewells.

The only concern I am left with to take care of now is the welfare of my loved ones. My dearest Isabella, I have loved you like my own daughter since the day you became entrusted to my care thus I am hopeful that you will grant my final wish. Please accept and honor my heritage with the solemn grace and gratitude that I have never ceased to admire and respect in you despite our differences.

I hope that my final gift will assist you in enjoying and embracing life in all its imperfect glory. Remember that I love you and be happy, my little dove, for it is a unique and beautiful journey you are about to embark on!

With never ceasing love,

Your Aunt Catherine

Her voice almost broke by the time she finished reading the signature out loud, the confusion still clearly visible in her soft brown eyes, even though hidden behind a blurry curtain of unshed tears. The pleading look on the face of the heartbroken young woman sitting in front of him struck the long forgotten cord of compassion within Bruce Smith.

Taking the wrinkled piece of paper from her and handing her a spotless white handkerchief instead, he examined the letter, narrowing his piercing blue eyes and forgetting about the heap of sobs and tears next to him for a moment. Worded with an air of almost careless elegance and self-esteem... "undoubtedly Catherine" he murmured his appreciation under his breath, engulfed for a moment by cherished memories of days long passed.

A loud and highly unladylike blowing of a slightly pointed nose dotted with strawberry freckles soon tore him though from his reverie. His experienced eyes travelled over the young woman with a thoughtful expression.

At the age of 23 Isabella Daniels did not exactly fit her aunt's description of her as a sight of blooming feminine grace and beauty, however she couldn't be considered the ugly overweight duckling she had been as a teenager either. A pair of lovely brown eyes hid somewhere behind that moist and rumpled handkerchief, with moderately plucked eyebrows and rich lashes enhancing what Catherine lovingly used to call her "natural charms". Her face bordered on heart shaped, framed by shoulder length dark brown hair, curling around her neck in a rather unruly manner.

She wore a pair of blue jeans, nicely accenting the generous curve of her hips and round rear along with her strongly built thighs and a soft looking beige wool cardigan to shelter her from the chilly spring weather of upstate New York. It covered most of the simple white button down shirt, that kept tickling his imagination every time she shifted in the recliner, allowing her well endowed bosom a gentle sway. The overall impression even raised the suspicion of her being able to look presentable, granted without flushed cheeks and lips that looked swollen enough to be begging for a kiss.

Scolding himself mentally for such imprudent thoughts, a deepening frown spread across Mr Smith's forehead as he dragged his attention back to her eyes again. The big brown twin pools of melted chocolate were accented by a rosy shade and dark circles that spoke of the sleepless nights and the tiresome days Isabella had been through since receiving the news about her aunt having passed away a mere week ago.

Bruce knew in his heart that it wouldn't be easy. As trusted lawyer and personal confident to Catherine Beaumont for many years he had experienced the despair of the woman whom he considered the strongest person he'd ever known when her only sister died along with her husband in a terrible car accident on an icy Christmas night, leaving her to raise 7 year old Bella all by herself. He was there to experience first hand, even if only from the background, how the society lady who once yearned for nothing but attention and admiration took upon herself the responsibilities and joys of motherhood for the orphaned niece who became the daughter Catherine was never granted to have.

Neither to have nor to hold... the old friend reflected at the days of Bella's departure with sadness. How a chubby and clumsy 18 year old girl with complete lack of self confidence could manage to break a woman of Catherine's personal power and strength he could never quite figure out, but then again, he had never been a parent, never had a child to love and care for and have walk out of his life with an accusing gleam in her eyes. He had been there all along, witnessing the depression as it slowly crept into his admired friend's life, taking complete control over her actions and draining the joy of life from her eyes. She looked more vulnerable than ever back then, so fragile, clearly in need for support and care, desires her pride wouldn't allow her to ask for, not even at such a devastated state of mind.

It was the moment. It should have been his moment. His opportunity to claim and take what he longed for but never had the courage and opportunity to make his before. He hesitated. The moment passed. Another took the prize he could only continue dreaming about, so he remained what he had always been, the cherished and trusted friend. The confidant to learn first about her inoperable tumor, the first in the line of many who tried to talk her into an alternative therapy in vain. The lawyer to set up her testament, to arrange her final journey to Hawaii along with the peaceful and lonely funeral she requested on the island. He was the one to debate with her night after night about her insane plan and even the person to set it into motion according to his adored friend's wishes by sending her letter to her beloved niece.

Taking a final glance at a more than fallen apart Bella he shook his head quietly, no, it certainly wouldn't be easy.

He took a deep breath standing and stroking his hand over his graying beard in a thoughtful gesture before stepping close to her and cupping her chin with gentle fingertips. Looking into her sorrowful eyes as he tilted her face upwards he saw something that reminded him of Cathrine. Not the strong and elegant lady people admired and men of power yielded to, but the heartbroken mother who lost her only child and blamed herself continually for it. He shook the sensation off, blinking a few times, clearing his throat and starting to pace the room and growing more and more stern with every step taken.

"It was her final wish. You must obey," he concluded his line of thought out loud.

The young woman shook her head fiercely with stubbornness taking over her desperate features.

"I cannot. It's impossible uncle Bruce, why can't you see that?" She took a deep breath of her own to clear her mind and organize the arguments she had been reciting all along the plane ride. "I never stopped loving her nor being grateful for what she had done for me, but I have my own life now. It was my choice to walk down a different path, if she could respect it back then why should she have changed her mind now?"