Chapter 20
Isabelle
Isabelle fidgeted. Her knees bounced as she sat at the kitchen table.
Charlie had insisted she was coming over so they could make some cookies.
She was an excellent cook like Nikki and Jason.
It was ironic that Isabelle had surrounded herself with people who could fix amazing dishes, and she couldn’t do a single thing in the kitchen.
A bowl was pushed toward her, and she stared down at the cookie dough that Charlie had whipped together. Without looking up, she knew Charlie was staring at her.
Part of her wondered if Jason had orchestrated this little get-together. Charlie had pushed hard to stop by. Now she was stuck in her kitchen with her friend who could see too much.
Their last argument hadn’t exactly been resolved, and that had been three weeks ago.
Likewise, her argument with Jason hadn’t been hashed out either. It appeared her friends were willing to overlook her poor behavior because they understood she was dealing with her own demons.
But it was only a matter of time before they pushed her into an intervention. She shuddered at the thought of Jason leading something like that. He wouldn’t destroy her trust like that, would he? No. He wouldn’t. That wasn’t like him.
Then again, maybe it would be Charlie who tried to push her into something. She could be persuasive when she wanted to be.
“Izzie,” Charlie said quietly, “you gonna help make these cookies or what?”
Isabelle frowned, not raising her eyes to meet her friend’s. “You’re the one who wanted to make them.”
Charlie sighed. The tension in the air was palpable. Isabelle could practically hear the words that Charlie wanted to say but was too scared to utter.
Well, Isabelle wasn’t going to be the one to coax her. She didn’t even want this little get-together to begin with.
The runs in the morning seemed to keep her from straying too far into the darkness. Jason had to agree with that. So why was Charlie trying so hard to make her face it?
“Izzie.”
This time Charlie didn’t speak again until Isabelle looked up.
“Are you doing okay?”
Isabelle nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
It was a lie, and they both knew it. Lies upon more lies.
Charlie nodded, but the hurt was evident in the set of her jaw and the tightness of her eyes. “Okay.”
And that was it. Charlie chattered on about feeling as big as a barn. Her due date was next week. She did her best to keep her voice upbeat, but even Isabelle could hear the weariness in it.
She did that. Isabelle was a poison who brought down the people who meant the most to her. Even though she hadn’t told Charlie anything about what she was dealing with, her friend was suffering.
This was what falling felt like.
She was spiraling, and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop.
Isabelle picked at her cuticles as she wandered down the street with Jason. They’d just come out of a movie—one she hadn’t paid enough attention to. If someone asked her what it was about, she wouldn’t have been able to give them anything.
Jason had been quiet, and that was saying something considering they were supposed to keep their mouths shut during a movie. But this quiet was different.
There was a coldness about it.
Isabelle could practically sense the impending doom.
What guy wanted to be with someone who couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her?
Logic told her that there were so many worse things in the world.
Wars had been waged. People were murdered.
Her attack could have been worse. Those were the excuses she made every single time the thought of therapy filtered into her mind.
She was right and no one could convince her otherwise. Countless people dealt with sleeplessness and anxiety. Maybe she should go to the doctor and get a prescription. She hadn’t bothered trying anything after the first one hadn’t worked, but there were other options out there.
A large, warm hand slipped into hers and she startled before turning her attention to Jason. They’d stopped outside of a bar and grill. His brows were furrowed and he looked so… sad. This was it. This was when he planned on breaking up with her.
Isabelle’s heart plummeted. She didn’t want that. Jason was her lifeline. He was everything she needed. This was just a rough patch.
“Jason—”
“I think we need to talk,” he said.
The twisting and turning in her stomach worsened. She shook her head vehemently. “I don’t—”
“Isabelle,” he said firmly, both of his hands holding tighter to her own. “I’ve tried to listen to your requests and let you figure things out on your own, but it’s not working.”
“What?” she barely whispered. “What do you mean?” Her throat felt dry, and her legs trembled beneath her weight. “If you’re trying to break up with me—”
He frowned, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he looked sick himself. “What? No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
The relief that washed over her was short-lived, leaving her feeling cold and scrambling when he clarified what he’d been meaning to say.
“You need help,” he continued as he gave her hands a squeeze.
White hot fury flooded her being, replacing the cold as she connected the dots. “Help? This again? Jeez, Jason.” She yanked her hands away from him and stumbled back a step, then another. “No. I don’t need that kind of help. I’m not crazy.”
“I never said you were,” he said with exasperation. “For the love of all that is holy, I don’t understand why you’re so against this. All kinds of people need help. It’s not a bad thing. No one is going to think less of you—”
“That’s not the point!” she all but shrieked.
“The point is that I don’t need it.” A strangled laugh burst from her lips.
She shoved her hands into her hair and tugged slightly before turning her fiery gaze on him.
Betrayal. That was what this emotion was.
How many times did she have to tell this man that she didn’t want that kind of interference in her life?
“Why can’t you accept my wishes? Why can’t you support me the way a boyfriend is supposed to? ”
He stepped toward her, his own anger tangible. “Because you’re wasting away.” He gestured at her. “You’re losing weight. You’re not sleeping. Can you honestly tell me that you’re not having nightmares anymore? Do you do anything that brings you joy?”
She stiffened. It wasn’t that bad. He was lying.
But then, what reason would he have for doing that?
None.
Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” This time, his words were gentle. “You’re barely surviving. Everyone can tell. I know you don’t want to admit it, but even your family can tell something is going on. Nikki asks about you. Marcus—”
Her head snapped up. “You told them?”
“Of course not. But they can tell you’re struggling. We’re worried about you.” He took another step toward her, and she held up a hand.
“Don’t,” she growled. “I don’t want your comfort if it’s gonna come with conditions.” She practically spat out the last word.
He stopped his approach and waited.
For what, she wasn’t sure. Isabelle wasn’t going to go back on her decision. “Is that all?” She risked looking into his eyes. “Are we done?”
Jason snorted. “Hardly. Whether you like it or not, you’re heading down a dangerous path.
” He closed the distance between them too swiftly for her to argue with him to stop this time.
He gripped her upper arms with firm, but gentle hands.
“I care about you too much to see you sabotage yourself. And if you continue getting worse, I can’t promise I won’t fill your family in on what you’re dealing with. ”
She gasped. Without thinking, she lifted a hand and slapped him.
She could have blamed her reaction on the sudden and swift ache of treachery that came from his confession.
Or she could have blamed it on her exhaustion.
She wasn’t thinking straight; that much was clear.
And when Jason released her like she was fire itself, guilt immediately put out the flames.
He held a hand to his cheek. She hadn’t hit him hard enough to flush his skin, but the contact had shocked them both. Jason blinked at her, pain swimming in his eyes. He shook his head, blew out a heavy breath, then pushed past her and headed for his truck.
Isabelle spun around. “Jason!” But he didn’t turn back. She contemplated chasing after him, but something told her that wouldn’t go over very well. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself and stumbled back against the brick building they’d been standing beside.
The door to the restaurant opened and a couple left the building hand in hand. The smell of barbeque made Isabelle’s stomach churn, but she couldn’t stand being out here on the street alone. Already people had given her some strange glances.
She glanced toward the restaurant once more. There was a bar inside. She hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since that night. The thought had terrified her.
Until now.
Isabelle was hurting the people she cared about most. And all she wanted was to forget. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could, but she couldn’t rid herself of the memories of the way Charlie and Jason looked at her. Nor could she forget Dillan and the intent he’d had that night.
Sleep didn’t offer an escape.
Neither did running.
Perhaps it was time to try something new.
With fresh, desperate resolve, Isabelle entered the restaurant. The hostess smiled brightly at her. “How many?”
Isabelle glanced over toward the bar. “Could I… is the bar available?”
“Of course.” The hostess grabbed a menu. “Follow me.”
She was led through the restaurant toward a more dimly lit area. It had been years since she’d allowed herself even a glass of wine. Drinking was not a way she preferred to shut out the world—running had taken that place in her mind.
But running wasn’t doing it for her anymore.
Not with Dillan’s arrival.
Not with the way Jason had taken to looking at her.
Everything was crumbling around her.
“Here you are. Sue will be your server. Have a good evening.” The hostess gestured toward the row of stools at the bar, and Isabelle picked one.
A cold sort of numbness wrapped around her. Why couldn’t she shake these feelings of anxiety and despair? It should have been easy. Other people had gone through so much worse than she had and come out on top without nearly as much effort.
Something was inherently wrong with her.
Maybe Jason was right.
“What can I get for you, hon?”
Isabelle looked up to find a beautiful woman with blonde hair and a little too much dark makeup around the eyes.
Her hair was swept up into a messy bun, and she wore a tank top with a pair of jeans.
A black apron was tied around her waist, and she was drying a glass as she waited for Isabelle’s response.
“I don’t know,” Isabelle said. “What’s good?”
Sue eyed her up and down. “You look like you need to take your mind off a few things.”
Isabelle nodded. She’d heard that bartenders could read people well. Perhaps she should just let Sue take care of her tonight. If she sat at the bar, then there was no risk of becoming a target. No one would handle her drink between the moment it got made and the moment it hit her lips.
The bartender smiled brightly. “I got you covered, sweetheart.”
Isabelle felt eyes on her and glanced around the room.
The goosebumps were the worst of it because the second she made eye contact with the cowboy, she allowed herself to relax.
He was familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
He offered her a genuine smile, then touched the brim of his hat in greeting before turning back to the guy seated next to him.
At least he wasn’t Dillan.
Or Jason.
Right now, she just needed to escape.
One night.
Then she’d figure out her next steps.