Beth nods. “She texted Caleb earlier, asking for your address. Said she really had to talk to you.”
“I was gonna call her tonight, anyway.”
“Ironically, she has bigger balls than you, brother. I expect good news in the morning. PG, preferably. I’m still your sister after all.” She keeps her eyes locked on me as she rolls up the window, shutting down further conversation, then drives off.
I make my way over to the house. Isabelle is giggling and talking sweetly to Tiny. The big dope has his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, lapping up all the attention.
As I reach the bottom step, Isabelle looks up at me. Her features are patient and full of sympathy. Understanding. It warms my heart to the point where I take a deep breath and feel the shame and guilt I’ve been carrying this week start to even out, lifting from where it had settled in my chest and gut.
“I tried to wait,” she says. “ I would have given you all the time you needed. I would wait a lifetime for you, Gage. But something happened, and I needed you.”
I’m ready to fall to my knees and drag myself to her feet with her last words. I toss one crutch onto the deck, holding onto the bannister instead to bring myself closer to her that much quicker.
“What happened? Are you okay?” I reach out a hand to touch her cheek, pulling back at the last second.
“Do you think we could go inside?”
I swallow my nerves. “Of course.”
Isabelle picks up my discarded crutch, passing it to me as I pull out my keys and open the door. Tiny starts to bound past her, but I whistle, making him stop and sit.
“Wait,” I command, holding an open palm up to him, then smiling sheepishly at Isabelle. “Ladies first.”
As she stands in front of me, she holds a hand against my stomach, rubbing her thumb up and down as she simply stares into my eyes. My mind riots between calm and apprehension. Before the dizzying feeling can take root, she heads inside.
I whistle to Tiny, calling him in before I follow behind.
I keep my eyes on Isabelle, taking in every part of my house as she passes. When we make it to the open living area, I start to move over to the kitchen.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“No thanks,” she says gently, shaking her head. “Can we sit down?”
My mouth feels like a sandpit, but I nod as I move over to the lounge room. Isabelle waits for me to get comfortable before she joins me on the couch, crossing her legs as she faces me.
“You said something happened?”
“Yes. But first, I want to talk about this past week.”
My eyes fall in defeat as I sink against the cushions. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I understand. The accident must have brought up very difficult memories for you. Everyone grieves in different ways. And heals on different timelines. But I need you to know, going forward, even if you don’t have the words to say, you don’t need to shut down on me. I can hold you in silence, I can distract you if that’s what you need, but please don’t push me away.”
I chew the inside of my cheek, saddened by the way I handled everything when she’s been nothing but kind and open with me from the start. I can hear the hurt in her words that my silence has caused. Never again.
“The hardest part about this week,” she continues, “was not being with you when I knew you needed me.”
I sink to the floor, my long leg cast making it awkward to get to her, but I manage to fall before her, one bent knee and one sticking straight out to the side as I bury my head in her lap, wrapping my arms around her lower back to hug her.
“I’m sorry, baby. You deserve the best, and I promise I’ll be better. I promise I’ll take you with me to every dark corner I go.”
Her fingers run through my hair as I close my eyes and inhale her perfume. The rose and orange scent forces my breathing deeper and slower, calming my frantic heart.
“Tell me you know that I’m here for you.”
“I know you’re here for me.”
“Tell me you know I would never judge you.”
