Page 72 of His Secret Wish

“There’s something I have to tell you first.” He squeezed her fingers and blew out a breath. “Izzy, I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re my everything, and I’m sorry for not letting you know that every day we were together. I don’t want to go another day without you. Please say you’ll come back to me, that you’ll give me another chance.”

Tears slid down her cheeks, her tears ducts burning. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. He hadn’t said such beautiful things to her in so long, she’d forgotten what it was like to hear them. Her chest and throat ached in a way they hadn’t since she’d decided to leave him.

“Please, don’t cry.” His voice was low. He wiped the tears off her cheek, his touch achingly gentle.

She jumped to her feet. Space. She needed space. She couldn’t do this while he was looking at her, touching her so reverently.

This was too hard, but it had to be done.

She stepped over to the door, bracing her hand on the knob. The tension in the room was tangible, a living, breathing thing. Every second, his body became tenser and tenser, his gaze frosting over.

She blew out a breath, swallowed hard. “I don’t think us getting back together is a good idea.” Her voice sounded remarkably even and calm, even though her insides were tumbling around like sneakers in the dryer.

He pushed to his feet. “Why?” There was no anger in his tone, no accusation. Just genuine curiosity.

“There’s too much between us. It’s too painful.” She hadn’t thought this far ahead, her brain scrambling to come up with an answer.

He crossed his arms over his chest. And she refused to notice the way his shirt pulled tight against his arms, against his pecs. Not silently mourning everything she’d lost, everything she could have had if only she’d been stronger.

“Do you love me?” There was a sharp tone in his words now.

The unexpected question knocked her senseless for a second. She just stared at him.

He took a step forward. “Do you love me?” This time, an underlying note of vulnerability wound itself around the question.

“It’s not that simple.” Her voice trembled.

He took another step forward, not crowding her, but close enough that, if she reached out, she’d touch him. And she so wanted to reach for him. Tell him the truth about everything. But she couldn’t. Her fear had her in a chokehold, the idea of getting hurt again too much to release it.

It was better this way. End things, once and for all. Then both she and Owen could move on with their lives.

“It’s not a difficult question, Isabella.” He never used her full name, and the fact he did it here, now, hurt more than she could fathom. “It’s either a yes or a no. Do you love me?”

She scratched at her chin, her emotions a massive tangle of knots so unravelable she’d never get them sorted. Not if she lived a thousand lives.

He was staring at her, his mask so firmly in place she could hardly see the real him. She wanted to grab it and toss it away. Run her fingers over his face until the muscles relaxed, and he looked like he had for most of the weekend.

“No, Owen, I don’t love you.” Her voice came out even and measured, which surprised her, given she’d just told the biggest lie of her life. “You need to move on, go live your life, find a future that doesn’t include me. Doesn’t include us.”

She tore her gaze away from him, not wanting to see his reaction. It would be too hard to forget, and that’s not what she wanted to remember. She didn’t wait for him to say anything, just opened the door and slipped into the hallway. She hurried over and down the stairs, the lie chasing her all the way.

Owen stared at the open bedroom door, Isabella’s words whipping around inside his brain like a tornado. He was having a hard time processing what she’d said. She didn’t love him, didn’t want to give him, give them, another chance.

His heart shattered, the pieces falling and scattering on the floor at his feet. The pain inside him was so overwhelming, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He could barely breathe, barely think, barely move.

He sank onto the bed, but then jumped up. Too many memories. In the bed. In this room, In this house. What he needed was to get away, get home, where things weren’t so hard, weren’t so complicated.

He finished packing his bag, hauling the strap over his shoulder. At the door he glanced back like a fool, a small, stupid part of him wanting to remember every detail of the room where he’d got to love Isabella for the last time. The fact that it was also the place she’d broke his heart all over again was unfortunate, but he promised himself he would only remember the good.

He pulled the door closed behind him, and strode down the stairs. His mother-in-law glanced over at him in the kitchen, but she didn’t say anything. Her look couldn’t be described as anything other than cold, not that he could blame her. He was an asshole. One who’d broken her daughter’s heart, multiple times.

If she only knew that Izzy had just stomped his into oblivion. He gave her a nod and strode on through.

The living room was full of people, although a considerably lower number than on the weekend. He kept his head down, headed toward the front door. The sooner he got out of here, the sooner he’d be able to breathe.

“Hey, Owen.”

He stopped and turned to see Antonio headed his way. He liked his brother-in-law a lot, but he wasn’t in the right headspace to be social right now. “Antonio.”