Echos of the past

Chapter 26

The sun was setting as Isla and Clark sat on the porch of Henry's cabin, the warm glow casting a serene light over the landscape. They had spent the day together, enjoying each other's company. As the evening settled in, Clark turned to Isla, his expression thoughtful.

"Isla, can I ask you something personal?" he began, his voice gentle.

"Of course, Clark," she replied, looking at him curiously.

"I've noticed you don't talk much about your family," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Why is that?"

Isla's smile faded slightly, and she looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before speaking.

"I don't talk to them anymore," she said quietly. "I haven't seen them in over a year."

Clark's brow furrowed in concern. "Why not? What happened?"

Isla hesitated, the memories painful and raw. But she trusted Clark, and she felt a need to share her past with him, to let him understand why she was the way she was.

"It started when my mom passed away," Isla began, her voice trembling slightly. "I was just a kid, and my dad remarried not long after. Eleanor, my stepmom, she... she was different."

Clark listened intently, his eyes never leaving Isla's face. He could see the pain in her eyes, and it made his heart ache.

"Eleanor wasn't kind," Isla continued. "She would hit me, shove me around. She didn't care if she left bruises. I remember one time I was five minutes late getting home because I was helping a friend, and she shoved me so hard I fell down the stairs. My dad... he didn't do anything to stop her. I want to believe he wanted to stop her."

Clark's hands clenched into fists, anger boiling up inside him at the thought of anyone hurting Isla. "That's terrible, Isla. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"It wasn't just Eleanor," Isla said, her voice growing steadier as she continued. "My stepsisters, Georgia and Minnie, they were just as cruel. They would do anything to get Eleanor to scream at me, to belittle me. They enjoyed it. It was as if torturing me was there entertainment."

Clark shook his head in disbelief. "I can't understand how anyone could be so cruel. And your dad just... watched?"

Isla nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "He was weak, Clark. He never stood up for me. He just let it happen. I think he was afraid of Eleanor too, but that's no excuse. I used to make excuses, but now I know it was just wrong. He could have stopped it. Maybe in a another world he would have left her. In another world, he might have protected me. Unfortuanetly he was broken after my mom died."

Clark reached out and took Isla's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You didn't deserve any of that, Isla. No one does. I'm so sorry."

Isla wiped away a tear, giving Clark a grateful smile. "Thank you, Clark. It means a lot to me that you care."

"I do care," Clark said earnestly. "I care about you a lot, Isla. And it hurts me to know that you went through so much pain."

Isla looked into Clark's eyes, seeing the genuine concern and compassion there. It made her feel safe, like she could share anything with him.

"I left as soon as I could," she continued. "I came here, to Henry's cabin. If it wasn't for him, I don't know where I would be. Henry took me in when he didn't have to. He's been like a father to me, more than my real dad ever was. He's taught me so much, and he's given me a place where I feel safe."

"Henry's a good man," Clark said, nodding. "I'm glad you found someone like him."

"Me too," Isla agreed. "He's been a blessing in my life."

They sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of Isla's past hanging in the air. Clark could feel his anger simmering beneath the surface, but he knew it was more important to be there for Isla, to support her and show her that she was not alone.

"Isla," Clark said softly, breaking the silence. "I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. You don't have to go through anything alone."

Isla's heart swelled with gratitude, and she leaned into Clark, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Clark. That means more to me than you know."

They stayed like that for a while, drawing comfort from each other's presence. As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Isla felt a sense of peace she hadn't felt in a long time. Sharing her past with Clark had been difficult, but it had also been healing.Isla lifted her head, looking into Clark's eyes. She saw the sincerity there, the promise of something good and true. And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope.

As they sat together on the porch, the night air cool and refreshing, Isla felt a sense of possibility opening up before her. She knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with Clark by her side, she felt stronger, more capable of facing whatever challenges lay ahead. And for that moment, under the starry sky, Isla allowed herself to believe in a future where she could find happiness, where the scars of her past would not define her, but would instead be the foundation upon which she built a new, brighter life.

"Clark," Isla began, her voice soft, "I want to tell you about my dad. Before everything changed, before Eleanor and my stepsisters... he was a wonderful father."

Clark turned his gaze towards her, curiosity and empathy in his eyes. "I'd love to hear about him, Isla."

Isla took a deep breath, a smile forming on her lips as she allowed herself to drift back to those precious memories. "When my mom was alive, my dad was my hero. He was kind, patient, and always made me feel loved. We had this small cottage by the lake, and my dad would take me fishing every weekend."

"Fishing, huh?" Clark said, grinning. "Sounds like you’ve been an outdoorsy girl for a long time."

Isla chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, I guess I have. I remember this one time when I was about six years old. My dad and I went out to the lake, and it was just the two of us. We packed a picnic, and I was so excited because I had my own little fishing rod."

She paused, her eyes sparkling with the memory. "I was determined to catch the biggest fish in the lake. My dad helped me cast my line, and we sat there for what felt like hours. I was getting restless, but he kept telling me to be patient."

Clark leaned in closer, completely absorbed in her story. "Did you catch anything?"

Isla laughed, the sound filled with genuine joy. "Oh, I did! After a while, I felt this huge tug on my line. I started reeling it in, and my dad was cheering me on. It was a big one, but as I pulled it closer, I realized it wasn't a fish at all. It was an old boot!"

Clark laughed along with her, the image of a young Isla struggling with a boot instead of a fish bringing a smile to his face. "That's hilarious! What did your dad do?"

"He laughed so hard," Isla said, shaking her head. "But he didn't make me feel bad about it. He just hugged me and told me that sometimes you have to catch a few boots before you catch a big fish. Then he helped me cast my line again, and we spent the rest of the afternoon fishing and laughing."

"That sounds like a perfect day," Clark said, his voice filled with admiration.

"It was," Isla agreed. "Those were some of the happiest times of my life. My dad was always there for me, always making sure I knew how much he loved me. He would read me stories before bed, teach me how to ride my bike, and we'd bake cookies together on rainy days. He was everything a dad should be before Eleanor."

Clark reached out and took Isla's hand, squeezing it gently. "He sounds like an amazing man, Isla. I'm so sorry things changed."

"Me too," Isla said softly. "After my mom died, he just... he changed. He became distant, and when Eleanor came into our lives, he seemed to fade away. It was like he wasn't the same person anymore."

Clark's heart ached for her, understanding now the depth of her loss. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you."

"It was," Isla admitted, a tear slipping down her cheek. "But those memories of my dad, the way he was before, they kept me going. They reminded me of what real love and kindness look like."

Clark wiped the tear from her cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Isla. I know it can't be easy to talk about."

"It helps," Isla said, her voice steadying. "It helps to remember the good times, to know that there was a time when things were different. And it helps to share those memories with someone who cares."

"I care a lot," Clark said sincerely. "And I'm here for you, no matter what."