ISABELLA
CHAPTER SIXTY
Ipractically fly away from Georgie’s house, and I’m at Nick’s in record time, but the weight of our looming conversation keeps me seated behind the wheel. I don’t want to lose him, but I have to get to a place where I can trust him. Trust the reasons he’s given me.
Part of me is a little scared, despite the need to resolve this crawling under my skin.
But I can’t let fear dictate the rest of my life. With a heavy breath, I pull myself out of my car and up to his front door.
Before I can knock, Nick opens the door.
My entire world instantly narrows to him, to those beautiful ice-blue eyes and how utterly entranced I am by him.
Fatigued bruises stain under his eyes, but otherwise, he looks okay. Exhausted, but determined.
“You came,” he says, so softly that one little brick in the wall around my heart crumbles. He seems so relieved but also surprised. My body aches to comfort him, to say ‘of course I came, you idiot’.
I nod instead, unable to force words past the ball of emotion in my throat.
He extends his hand out to me, but stops just before touching my skin. He leaves it there as an offering.
He doesn’t want to cross that line without my permission.
I slide my fingers along his open palm, cataloguing every callous. Every bump. Every line. Every point of discoloration.
I missed each piece, even the rough ones.
He draws me inside, shutting the door behind me. “I was hoping you’d come.”
Before I can reply, my eyes snag on the room.
Candles litter all the surfaces, burning softly and illuminating the home in a soft pumpkin spice-scented glow.
The same flowers Nick got me in his first bouquet line the dining room table, where a homemade meal sits in beautiful serving dishes that look like they could be fine China. I wonder if they were his mom’s.
Soft, romantic music plays from somewhere, and desserts are laid out on the kitchen island. Chocolate cakes, pumpkin bread with chocolate swirls. All my favorite flavors.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, noting the yellow flower petal path on the dark wood floor before me. “You did all this for me?”
Nick comes to my side, hand raised to touch my cheek, but he stops just before making contact. “This is just part one.”
I tilt my head a little until we touch. His exhale is heavy as his fingers roam, getting tangled in my hair.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Izzy. I never should have kept this from you.
I let my fear take over, and that wasn’t fair to you.
” He takes another deep breath, briefly closing his eyes before opening them again.
“Isabella Gregory, I love you. You are the mate chosen for me by the Goddess herself, and for that, I am drawn to you, but it’s not why I love you.
I love you because you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. ”
“You have magic in your touch. You have the ability to bring people—whole towns—back to life. You did that with me, and you did that with Lunamois. You’re funny, intelligent, and so deeply empathetic.
You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, with the most expressive eyes. I am in awe of you, Izzy.”
Tears slip down my cheeks as he speaks. My heart leaps in my chest, galloping toward him.
“You aren’t ashamed of me?” My voice breaks over the words, but I have to know for sure.
His despair is almost violent as he pulls me in until our foreheads touch. “Never. I would scream to the heavens themselves for you. I was just too goddamn scared.”
“Why?”
“I can’t lose you, too, Izzy. I think if anything happened to you, I’d never recover.”
I lean in even closer until our mouths almost touch. “Nothing is going to happen to me, Nick. I promise.”
His lips tick up in a half smile. “You can’t promise that.”
“Maybe not, but I do anyway.”
“Does this mean you’re going to let me earn your forgiveness, Izzy, because I swear it’s taking everything in me not to kiss you.”
I smile, taking a deep inhale of his scent. “I want you to explain mates to me—in detail—and I want to eat this delicious food you’ve made. Teach me.”
“Of course,” he promises, circling me until he’s behind me. “But first, I have to show you something.”
My eyebrows draw in confusion. He said there was more, but I didn’t realize we’d get to it right away. What could it be?
He lifts his hands. “Gonna cover your eyes, okay?”
I stare at him over my shoulder with wide eyes.
“Do you trust me?” His voice is soft, unassuming. As if expecting I may say no.
I hesitate for only a second before nodding. His hands cover my eyes, and he leads me through the house and up the stairs until we finally stop walking.
“I made this for you,” he says, uncovering my eyes and quickly opening the door to one of the spare bedrooms.
My breath leaves me in a gasp as I step into the room.
It’s been transformed into the office of my maximalist dreams. Every single inch is covered in different Lunamois-themed knick-knacks and tchotchkes.
There’s a new built-in on the wall opposite the window to house them, as well as different organizers for any papers or office supplies I’ll need.
The desk is handmade, too, with a soft white rolling chair covered in fall-colored pillows. There’s a blanket draped over the side with little pumpkins stitched into it.
This feels more like me than any place I’ve been since I left Lunamois. More than my old apartment, my parents’ house.
Tears fill my eyes at the care and dedication—not to mention the time—this must have taken—the effort.
“I want you to stay.” He comes around to brush tears from my cheeks. “I want you to see that you matter. That I know you.”
“Thank you,” I reply, voice trembling. “When did you find time to build all of this?”
He huffs, shaking his head. “I haven’t slept since I last saw you, Izzy.”
I bury myself in his chest, hating that this hurt him so much.
“Come on. You can explore after dinner. Let’s eat, Izzy.” He rubs soothing patterns into my back, and I nod into his chest.