Without another word, he turned and marched to his office. Before anyone saw my face, I turned back to the ring and took a few deep breaths.
But my heart, oh my heart. I laid a hand over it, tried to calm its wild, furious drumming.
“Iz?” Kelly called from behind me.
I blew out one more breath and turned. “Yeah?”
“These two would love to sign up for a membership. Can you help them while I finish up here?”
At the two girls, I smiled. “Of course. Why don’t you two follow me up to the desk? I’ll get you some paperwork to fill out.”
I went about my job for the next hour, and by the time I gathered my things to go, I still wasn’t sure if I felt better or worse after his admission.
“That looked intense for a minute there,” Kelly commented mildly, watching as I finished tidying my desk and shutting off my computer monitor.
“Did it?”
“My, my how far we’ve come from you hiding behind boxes.” She nudged me as we walked toward the front. “I think our boss looks a little smitten with you, Isabel Ward.”
I laughed, and the sound was tinged with the slightest edge of hysteria. His office door was still closed, and when I walked out of the building, I wasn’t coming back until after Molly’s wedding. I forced my attention back to Kelly. “Call me if you need anything this weekend. Saturday is the only day I can’t really answer my phone.”
She sighed at my obvious deflection. “It’s not too late to invite me, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Goodbye, Kelly.”
“Have a fun weekend off,” she called after me.
When I turned to wave, I saw Aiden watching from the doorway of his office. And just like it always seemed to with him, my heart responded like he’d touched bare wires to my skin.
It didn’t slow until I’d driven away, and still … I felt him. I was starting to realize that I probably always would.
Chapter Twenty-Four Aiden
The days she was gone were even more difficult than when she was in front of me because I couldn’t even attempt to decipher what she was thinking.
Couldn’t take the little bit I had of her, even if it was a pale, watered-down version of what I wanted. It made me want to break things, hit things, and put my rage and frustration somewhere. And my anger wasn’t aimed at her. I could hardly look myself in the mirror because I hated what I saw when I did.
I was going through the motions in a way that I hadn’t since Beth died. More than once, I caught my family watching me, caught Anya talking to me, when I’d only heard half of what she said.
What if you’re wrong?
That was what I couldn’t mute in my head, to distraction.
What if you’re wrong?
This—Isabel—was the first time in my entire life that I questioned myself so much, and I hated how much anger it stirred up in its wake.
She was nothing Beth had talked about, nothing like I’d tried to imagine.
And maybe that was part of the problem. I’d never even attempted to imagine the person who would come after Beth. Never wanted to. Her description, her wishes were as good as any, because I had no desire to find someone else to take that space in my life or in Anya’s.
Each day that Isabel upheld the invisible wall that she’d promised, one that I could’ve launched over with ease if I decided, I slipped a little further into questioning myself.
“You look like shit,” Deacon told me when we all ate dinner at my parents. They’d tiptoed around me all week.
“Didn’t sleep well.” Not that I planned on explaining why. When Isabel left work the day before, she was off for the next three because of her sister’s wedding. And since she’d swept out of the building, I hadn’t heard a thing from her. And why would I?
Isabel might’ve been the one to take longer to gain her footing around me, but there was only one person too chicken-shit to admit what they felt, and it wasn’t her.
“You can borrow my special lamp,” Anya told me. “It helps me sleep.”
I gave her a tired smile. “Thanks, gingersnap. Maybe I’ll try that tonight.”
Clark stood from the table. “Come on, Anya. Want to help me fix something in the backyard?”
She shrieked when he scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Wearily, I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Anything you wanna talk about?” my mom asked later as I helped her clear dishes before taking Anya home.
My dad set a hand on her back as he set his dish down on the counter. “Don’t pry, honey.”
She shooed him away. “Asking isn’t prying.”
He swatted her butt. “It is when you do it.”
“Nothing to worry about, Mom.” I handed her the dish towel.
Even if they all watched me carefully, no one else said a word. I got Anya loaded into the truck and made my way back home, weariness covering me like an iron blanket. It was different than losing Beth—so very different—but it still felt like grief.
Like I was mourning something that I’d never really had.
It was a startling realization, one that shook me more than I wanted to admit. But how was I supposed to reconcile everything I’d believed I might need someday to what I wanted when I looked at her.
Anya was drifting off to sleep in the back seat as I pulled into our neighborhood, and I caught sight of an unfamiliar car parked in front of our house. It wasn’t Isabel’s car, but when someone with her build and long dark hair got out of the driver’s seat, my heart started hammering.
But when she lifted her head and smiled as I drove the truck into our driveway, I knew it was one of her sisters. From the pictures I’d seen
