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“That’s not the part that hurts the most,” I manage. “It hurts to look at her. She’s perfect. She’s the girl you take home to your mother. He always told me I was too much: too ambitious, too professional, too forward. Looking at that picture, maybe he was right. He found what he wanted, and it wasn’t me. It’s never me.”

I push to my feet and start pacing, unable to stand the buildup of anger and pain that’s trying to work its way out. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

“Isabella.”

Sebastian slides his chair back and stands.

“Mom blamed me when my dad left. She said if I’d been a better daughter, he wouldn’t have left us.” I blurt out the words before I can stop myself.

Sebastian’s eyes widen, then flash with anger. “She blamed you for your father leaving when you were a child?”

“I know it’s ridiculous. But there’s still this part of me that believes it’s true, especially when all the men in my life leave because I’m too much.”

Sebastian reaches out, snags my wrist, and pulls me closer. His hand is gentle as he cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“You are too much, Isabella.”

The words stun me to silence as pain, sharp and hot, blooms in my chest. But when I try to pull away, he pulls me closer.

“You have fire,” he continues. “You burn bright, and you burn hot. You’re beautifully intense, and you demand every bit of oxygen in the room. Mark wanted something he could put in a corner and forget about until he needed it again. He didn’t have the strength to withstand your heat.”

He leans in closer, his forehead resting against mine.

“Not everyone is built to handle that much light, Isabella. Most people are terrified of it. They want someone who doesn’t challenge them. It makes them feel less than, instead of pushing them to be better, because they’re afraid they’ll be left wanting.”

“And you?” I’m almost afraid to ask, but I also have a desperate need to know.

“I can withstand your heat. I’m not scared to be pushed to be better.”

He kisses me. The kiss is a slow, deliberate claim. When he finally pulls back, he keeps me trapped in his gaze.

“Don’t ever apologize for the way you burn. The right man won’t ask you to dim your light. He’ll bask in your glow.”

I bury my face in Sebastian’s chest, letting him hold me, a solid mountain in the middle of my storm.

And that’s when the real panic sets in. It’s the realization that I am looking at the only man who has ever truly seen me, who I have let see me.

I am in love with a man whose life is a minefield.

Please, I beg him silently. Please don’t break my heart. Don’t turn out to be like all the others.

Because this one? This one will shatter me if it goes wrong.

26

SEBASTIAN

Unlike the placid blaze in the fire pit the previous night, the bonfire on the beach is a roar of orange, gold, and white flames, licking at the darkness. The sea breeze chills the air, but near the fire, it’s warm.

The kids are playing music on Maya’s phone, dancing around the fire like wild heathens. Kiersten was dancing with them, but now she’s sitting on a large piece of driftwood, talking to Aaron in an oddly intimate pose. Then again, they’ve always gotten along well, ever since I hired her and she started bringing meals to him after Nella’s death.

Isabella sits beside me, a smile on her face, as she watches the joy. I wonder what she’s thinking. From what she’s told me, she grew up without much laughter. I’m certain she never experienced a bonfire on a private beach.

Mom, with her quiet inscrutability, that almost dream-like quality she wanders through life with, said she was going to bed early. Her doctor likened the trait to severe detachment after what Dad put her through.

I’m here physically, but my mind is in the big bed upstairs with Isabella.

“Are you okay?”