“You’re the one who insisted we both take the blame for you falling the other night.”
“You scared me.”
“You were climbing alone.”
She sighed. “You need a new topic of conversation.”
“Get the surgery. Once you can see, you won’t be afraid of going into the storeroom.”
Not exactly the topic she’d been hoping for. “No, thanks.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to. Get off me.”
He moved closer. “Dammit, Izzy, talk to me. You need the surgery. You can’t live like this, afraid of a storeroom because it’s dark. Don’t you want more?”
She turned to leave. “I don’t need this.”
He grabbed her. “Yes, you do.”
She pulled free. “Stop it.”
“Then tell me why?”
“Fine.” She dropped her hands to her hips and glared at him. Or at least in his general direction. “I was just a kid when my mom died.” She shook her head. “Died. We always say that like it was cancer or she was hit by a car. She killed herself. My mother committed suicide and planned it so my sister, her nine-year-old daughter, would find the body when she got home from school.”
There was only silence. Izzy wished she could see his face to know what he was thinking.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last.
“Yeah? Me, too. Skye freaked, which makes sense. I didn’t know what was going on, but I got scared, too. So scared that I ran and hid in the closet under the main staircase. Only the door got stuck and I couldn’t get out. It was dark in there.” She shivered at the memory and dropped her arms to her side.
Not just dark. Dark and cold and full of scary shapes. She could taste the terror in the memory but refused to give in to it.
“I called and screamed until I made myself sick, but no one heard me. I don’t even know if they were gone. It took nearly twenty-four hours until they found me. By then I was so hysterical, I had to be taken to the hospital and sedated. I never went to my mother’s funeral. I hate the dark. I hate it. So don’t tell me to just have the surgery. Not when the alternative is being in the dark forever.”
“Okay,” he said at last.
“Okay what?”
“I understand why you’re scared of the surgery.”
She waited. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want to tell me that I need to talk to a professional?”
“I’m the last guy to say that. You’ve probably seen a dozen.”
“One or two,” she admitted. “Back when I was a kid and someone could make me. Now I climb mountains and go cave diving.”
“Which is in the dark.”
“I always bring an extra flashlight.”
“Not going to solve your problem now.”
She couldn’t believe it. “Are we back to the surgery again? How many times do I have to tell you that’s not going to happen?”
“I don’t believe you,” he said quietly. “You’re too tough. Too determined. You’re not going to settle on this half life forever. I guess the trick is to figure out how to survive being permanently in the dark so you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“Your ability to reduce my problems to the obvious is pretty amazing,” she snapped. “It’s the equivalent of telling someone with a fear of heights to simply jump off a tall building and she’ll be cured.”
“The difference is the fall won’t kill you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do and you know it, too. You’ve never walked away from anything, Izzy. Why this?”
Because it was a nightmare he couldn’t begin to understand. Because he had no idea what it was like to be so terrified that breath was impossible and death seemed much easier than living with the fear.
“Go away,” she told him.
“I’m not giving up.”
“Yay, you.”
“Fine,” he said. “You win. For now. What do you need in the storeroom?”
She thought about telling him she would get it herself, then she looked into the darkness. “Oats,” she said at last.
He disappeared, then reappeared with a large container on a wheelbarrow. “Anything else?”
“I’m good.”
“Yes, you are,” he told her. “If only you’d believe it.”
“NORMALLY I REQUIRE people to take notes at my meetings,” Aaron said from his side of the kitchen table. “But in your case, I’ll make an exception.”
Izzy laughed. “Lucky me. I could take notes, if you insisted, but it would be messy.”
“It’s far more important you take me seriously.”
“Of course I do. I know who’s in charge.” Plus she was intrigued by the planning process for a corporate retreat. The first one for her was in a few days. From what Aaron had said, she was expected to help. She was both excited and nervous at the thought. Part of her wanted to run and hide, but most of her was more interested in how long it would take everyone to figure out she couldn’t see.
“The company we’re hosting is in aerospace,” Aaron told her. “They manufacture airplane parts. That means lots of engineers.” He sighed. “I don’t know. Do you think I could find true love with an engineer?”
“Maybe.”
“At this point, I’d settle for a night. Anyway, we’re doing the usual format. They have their boring little meetings in the morning, then we do the group activities in the afternoon. This time there are a lot of team-building activities. Bor-ring. But we’ll be up in the trees later.”
Up in the…“As in climbing trees?”
“Uh-huh. Using ropes. And walking a rope bridge between trees. Very flashy. It can be a problem for people who have a thing with heights.”
“Or are blind,” she mumbled.
“You’re late,” Aaron said.
“Take it out of my paycheck,” Nick said, pulling out a chair next to Izzy and sitting down. “What did I miss?”
She’d been so caught up in the thought of dangling from a rope bridge, fifty feet in the air, that she hadn’t sensed or heard his approach.
As he leaned forward, his arm brushed hers, making her hyperaware of him. She could feel the heat from his body, inhale the scent of him. Her skin got all prickly and she felt her toes curl inside her boots.
“We’re talking about the upcoming retreat,” Aaron said. “Nick, your attitude isn’t helping. You never take these events seriously.”
“You can handle it. You’re way better at this than me.”
“Oh, please.” There was a pause, then Aaron said, “I’m rolling my eyes, Izzy. Just so you know.”
She grinned. “Thanks for the update. Does Nick look appropriately chastised?”
“Not really.”
She nudged Nick’s arm. “Don’t mess with him. We all know he’s the one who’s really in charge.”
“So he keeps telling me.”
“Isn’t it true?”
“Maybe.”
Aaron cleared his throat. “If I could have the class’s attention,” he muttered. “Honestly. This is serious. In three days we have thirty businesspeople showing up for a weekend retreat. They’re going to expect us to act
