Transmigrating Into a novel as a Rich Second-Generation.-Chapter 27: Isabelle’s Resolution

Fifteen more minutes passed before another server appeared with Ethan’s chicken. By this point, Isabelle had finished most of her pasta.

"Finally," Ethan muttered under his breath, pulling the plate toward him.

He cut into the chicken and immediately noticed something was wrong. It was overcooked. Seriously overcooked. The meat was dry and tough, barely any juice coming out when he pressed his fork into it.

Ethan took a bite anyway, chewing the rubbery texture with growing frustration.

"How is it?" Isabelle asked politely.

"It’s... fine," Ethan lied, forcing himself to swallow.

The kitchen door banged open again, and a server nearly collided with their table while carrying a tray.

"Sorry!" the server called over his shoulder, not bothering to stop.

Ethan’s grip on his fork tightened.

This entire evening was a disaster. The worst table in the restaurant, forgotten by the servers, wrong orders, terrible food—everything that could go wrong was going wrong.

And he was supposed to be impressing Isabelle. Showing her he could take care of her, that he was worthy of her attention.

Instead, he looked like an idiot who couldn’t even plan a proper dinner date.

"So, how’s Savana doing?" Isabelle said, clearly trying to make conversation,

Ethan’s expression darkened slightly at the mention. "She’s... managing. The medication is expensive, but we’re getting by."

"That must be really hard," Isabelle said sympathetically.

"Yeah, well, it is what it is." Ethan’s tone came out harsher than he intended. "Not everyone gets to have perfect families with no problems."

Isabelle blinked, taken aback. "I didn’t mean—"

"I know, I know," Ethan interrupted, rubbing his face. "Sorry. I’m just... stressed."

He took another bite of the terrible chicken, chewing aggressively.

The kitchen door banged again.

"God, can they not keep that door closed?" Ethan snapped, loud enough that a nearby table glanced over.

"Ethan," Isabelle said quietly, "it’s okay. It’s just a door."

"It’s not just the door, Isabelle. It’s everything." Ethan gestured around the table. "This whole place is a mess. They gave us the worst table, the service is terrible, the food is—" he lowered his voice slightly, "—the food is garbage. And I’m paying premium prices for it."

Isabelle shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Maybe we should just... finish up and go?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably for the best," Ethan muttered, pushing his barely-touched plate away.

He tried to flag down their server again, but once more, she seemed to vanish into thin air.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

"Are they seriously ignoring us again?" Ethan said, his voice rising with irritation.

"Ethan, please—"

"No, this is ridiculous!" Ethan stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. Several diners turned to look. "Where the hell is our server?"

"Sir?" The maître d’ appeared, his expression professionally concerned. "Is there a problem?" 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"Yes, there’s a problem," Ethan said, his frustration finally boiling over. "We’ve been sitting here for over an hour, the service has been terrible, my order was wrong, and now we can’t even get someone to bring us the check!"

The maître d’ maintained his calm demeanor. "I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, sir. Let me get your server immediately."

"Please do," Ethan said through gritted teeth.

He sat back down, breathing hard, aware that everyone was staring at him now.

Isabelle looked mortified, her face flushed with embarrassment.

"Sorry," Ethan said quietly. "I just... this night isn’t going how I planned."

"I can see that," Isabelle said, her voice cooler now.

Their server finally appeared with the check, setting it down on the table without making eye contact.

Ethan grabbed it and looked at the total.

$127.50.

He pulled out his debit card and placed it with the check.

The server took it away and a few minutes later, she returned with an apologetic expression.

"I’m sorry, sir, but your card was declined."

Ethan’s face went white. "What? That’s not possible. Try it again."

"I already tried it twice, sir. It’s being declined."

"That’s impossible. There should be money in that account!"

The server just stood there awkwardly.

"Try it one more time," Ethan demanded.

She walked away with the card again.

Isabelle sat across from him, silent, her expression unreadable but clearly uncomfortable.

Ethan’s hands were shaking. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not in front of Isabelle.

The server returned. "I’m sorry, sir. Still declined. Do you have another form of payment?"

"I..." Ethan swallowed hard. "I have cash. But not enough to cover the full bill."

Several nearby tables were definitely watching now, whispering to each other.

"I can cover the rest," Isabelle said quietly, already pulling out her wallet.

"Isabelle, no—"

"Ethan, just let me help," she said, her tone firm but tired.

She handed the server her card, and the transaction went through without issue.

Ethan sat there, staring at the table, feeling like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

This was supposed to be his night. His chance to win her back.

Instead, she’d ended up paying for the dinner he’d invited her to.

"Thank you," Ethan said, barely above a whisper.

"It’s fine," Isabelle replied, standing up and gathering her things. "Let’s just go."

They walked out of the restaurant in silence.

Outside, in the cool evening air, Isabelle turned to him.

"Ethan," she said carefully, "I think... I think we need some space. From each other."

"What? No, Isabelle, tonight was just—everything went wrong, but that doesn’t mean—"

"It’s not just tonight," Isabelle interrupted gently. "It’s everything. The fight at school, the rumors with Alyssa, the constant stress... and tonight just..." she trailed off, searching for words. "I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry."

"Please," Ethan said, desperation creeping into his voice. "Give me another chance. I can do better, I swear—"

"I need time to think," Isabelle said firmly. "Alone. Please respect that."

She pulled out her phone and called a ride.

Ethan stood there, helpless, watching her wait for her car in silence.

When it arrived, she got in without looking back.

And Ethan was left standing alone outside Bella Vista, having just experienced the worst date of his life.

His card had been declined, Isabelle had paid for the meal, and now she wanted space.

Everything he’d tried to fix had just gotten worse.

Ethan pulled out his phone with trembling hands and checked his bank account.

The balance showed $143.

There was money in the account. The card should have worked.

"What the hell...?" Ethan muttered, staring at the screen in confusion.

At that moment, a flash of anger erupted in him, he had realised he had been played.

"SEBASTIAN!!!" He shouted into the air, drawing attention from everyone around him.