Chapter 22
Isabelle
Isabelle blinked, or at least she attempted to.
Her eyes were dry, and they didn’t want to cooperate. They felt glued shut if anything.
She groaned, her hands covering her face. But moving only made her headache worse.
Something was off about where she was.
That had her heart racing to the point she sat up suddenly. Sharp pain sliced through her head, and she had no other choice but to lie down once more. The throbbing in her skull didn’t abate even in her reclined state.
Was it possible to feel like she’d eaten a mouthful of cotton?
Why?
Then the memories returned and whatever was left in her stomach threatened to make another appearance. She groaned again and, this time, slowly opened her eyes.
It wasn’t incredibly bright in the room. With shades drawn, she could see a faint light coming in behind the drapes. It could be early morning, or it could be afternoon. There was no telling.
Something shifted in her periphery, and she managed a squeak of surprise followed by a grunt of pain. The silhouette of a man sat in a chair near her bed. He was hunched over, forearms resting atop his thighs. His head hung low.
She would have recognized his form anywhere.
“Jason?” she rasped, her throat dry. “What are you doing here?”
He lifted his head. In the dim lighting she could barely make out an expression of pain, but that quickly flitted away and a hardness replaced it. “This is my room.”
Isabelle glanced around the space carefully so she didn’t make her headache worse. Then she frowned. “How did I get here?”
Jason sighed with frustration as he straightened and raked his hands through his hair. “What do you think you were doing?” His voice was a whisper, but she flinched at the venom in it. He was definitely angry.
No, angry didn’t seem to cover it.
Jason was livid. And based on the fact that she was here in his room instead of her own, he probably had every right to be.
She shut her eyes tight, and a tear slipped free. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t okay. She’d wanted to admit it for months now. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
There was so much to unload with a confession like that. She was angry with herself for not being able to handle what had happened to her when others could. She was terrified that if she admitted something was wrong, people would look at her differently. She refused to show weakness.
Brushing at the stray tear, she remained still, staring up at the ceiling.
“Nothing? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
She flinched again. His tone was still quiet, but the words cut her deep.
This was why she’d refused to let anyone in.
No one would want to deal with the baggage she had buried deep within her.
Jason was so good to her, and the guilt eating at her for being less than he deserved ate at her. But she still couldn’t let him go.
“Isabelle,” Jason snapped, jumping to his feet. “Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?” she whispered.
Don’t cry. Not another single tear. Don’t show him weakness.
Jason muttered and paced by her bed—or rather, his. “Admit that there’s a problem and you need help.”
Her jaw tightened. “I had a couple drinks last night, Jason. So what if I overdid it? I didn’t even have that many.”
He let out a sound that resembled a growl. “Really? That’s how you want to spin this?”
Slowly, so her movements didn’t cause her additional pain, Isabelle sat upright. She rested her pounding head in her hands. “Yeah, really. I overdid it. People get drunk all the time and can’t remember—”
“No,” he ground out. “Not like this.”
She would have rolled her eyes if she didn’t think it would cause a sparking light to blind her.
“You’re dealing with something and are refusing to get the help you need. There’s nothing wrong with it. But the first thing you need to do is ask for help.”
Isabelle refused to look at him. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. Whether from her exhaustion or the hangover, she couldn’t tell. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.” She hated feeling judged by him. Where was the caring man who made her feel seen? The man she could count on?
She lifted her eyes to meet his, and her stomach dropped.
There were tears wetting his cheeks. The heartbreak in his eyes was so tangible that it stole the breath right from her lungs. The irritation from this little intervention dissipated, and her heart lurched.
“Jason?” she whispered, reaching for him.
He shook his head. It was a subtle shake, but that motion ripped her heart in two. “I can’t,” he rasped.
“You… can’t… what?” Her voice broke.
Jason dragged a hand down his face and turned away from her. He placed his hands on his hips and hung his head low. “I’m not good for you, Isabelle.”
“What?” Wincing at the desperation in her voice, Isabelle attempted to move toward him, but her body refused to do what her mind wanted her to. “Please don’t do this,” she begged.
He tilted his head and stared at the ceiling as if he could see the answers written there. Despite telling herself she wasn’t going to cry, tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Isabelle. We’re going around in circles.”
“That doesn’t even make sense. Nothing is—”
Jason finally faced her. “Last night…” He choked on the words.
“Last night when they brought you here…” He worked his jaw, then stared at the floor.
“You’ll never know how hard it was for me.
” His hand came up and gripped his Henley.
The shirt wrinkled in his tight fist. “All I could think about was what if someone hurt you? Do you even understand how lucky you were?” He shook his head.
“For all you’re struggling with lately, why?
Why would you put yourself in that position again? ”
Her throat closed up. It sounded like a reasonable question, but it wasn’t one Isabelle could answer. Everything remained muddled in her mind. All she wanted was to disappear. There was one thing she could offer him. “You’re right.”
His sharp gaze turned to hers, waiting.
“I shouldn’t have done that last night. I don’t know why I…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I needed to forget for one night.” The last bit was said on a breath of a whisper. “But I’ll do better, Jason. I swear.” She couldn’t meet his eyes, not anymore.
“You’ll get help?”
“I told you. I don’t need—”
He sighed, drawing her attention. “Isabelle, I can’t…” He pressed his lips into a thin line, and his voice broke on his next words. “We can’t do this anymore.”
Her eyes widened. “But—”
“Don’t. Please, Isabelle. This is breaking my heart.”
“Then stop. You don’t have to do this.” She reached for him again, unable to scramble from the bed when another sharp pain lanced through her.
“Please,” she whispered, “you’re the only one who makes me feel safe.
You’re the only one who has managed to bring color back into my life. I can’t do this without you.”
Jason grimaced. She knew that expression. He was losing his nerve.
Isabelle opened her mouth, but Jason held up his hand and shook his head.
“That’s the problem, now, isn’t it?”
When she couldn’t find the words to respond, he continued.
Jason reached for the chair he’d been sitting on. His fingers wrapped around the back tight, his knuckles turning white. “I don’t tell many people this, but my sister was a victim of sexual assault.”
Isabelle’s mouth fell open. He’d never indicated that he’d been close to someone who had endured such a thing.
She couldn’t find the strength to respond.
What could she say? Nothing. And the reason she knew that was because there were no words for her own situation.
Apologies didn’t mean anything. Empathy was tricky because she didn’t know anyone who had been through something similar.
She didn’t realize she was still crying until Jason moved around his chair and crouched down in front of her to wipe them away from her cheeks.
The pain in his expression mirrored her own.
“I thought…” He took a deep breath and released it.
“I realized something last night.” He turned his head away, and his jaw tightened.
“I think there was some part of me that was intent on saving you. From the pain. From the memories. From the nightmares…” He closed his eyes and sighed again. “From healing.”
“Jason, no—”
He took her hands in his. “Let me finish, Isabelle. Please.”
She closed her mouth, wishing she had the strength to pull him into her arms and comfort him. But she was too hollow herself. At some point, she’d become a shell of the person she used to be.
Perhaps he could see it. Perhaps that was why this was finally happening.
“I was wrong,” Jason muttered. “I was wrong for focusing on saving you. Honestly, it’s something I need to work on. It’s not a healthy outlook. I might have rationalized that if I could be that person for you, then you’d be happy again.”
“You do make me happy—” she tried again, but with one look, he silenced her.
“No one can be responsible for your happiness, Isabelle. No one can find it for you or force it on you. Don’t you get that?
At some point everyone has to find their own happiness—their own reason for living.
It should never hinge on a person or a thing.
” He reached up with one hand and cupped her cheek.
With a calloused hand, he brushed at another tear.
“You have to seek it out all on your own. Build a foundation and discover what brings you joy. To heck with all the evil and pain in the world. That’s not going to go anywhere.
But despite it all, there’s light. You just have to find it. ”
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” he said. “Me, too.”
More tears spilled down her cheeks. “What if I can’t find it?”
He was quiet for a long moment. The only sound she heard in the room was their uneven breathing. A future without him seemed impossible, especially when she’d felt her most “normal” when she was with him.
As much as she wanted to beg him to change his mind, she already knew the truth.
Jason had made his decision, and he was sticking with it.
She’d pushed him too far. She’d taken and taken without giving enough in return.
What if her soul had been turned into a black hole and there was no chance for redemption? The thought churned her stomach.
“You will,” he said.
Her eyes opened and she blinked rapidly, her thoughts scrambling in an attempt to remember what she’d said.
“You are one of the strongest women I know,” Jason whispered. “You have the biggest heart. Just because you got knocked down doesn’t mean you can’t find a way to get back on your feet. There are so many people who love you. Don’t take that for granted. You’re not alone.”
Isabelle stifled a sob. She’d never felt more alone than she did in this moment. Jason had been a confidant—one she hadn’t realized she’d needed. And he was leaving.
She wanted to scream and rant that he was being a hypocrite. But she didn’t have the strength.
He got to his feet and moved across the room.
She watched as he rifled through a drawer in his desk until he found what he was looking for.
Then he turned toward her, holding a small, white card.
He stared at it, brows furrowed. It was like he had an internal battle with himself, but when it was over, he held it out to her.
“I know you don’t want to see anyone for this, but if you change your mind… ”
Isabelle eyed the business card warily. He’d gone so far as to find a therapist for her. For some reason that didn’t bother her as much as it should have. With trembling fingers, she accepted the card. Then she watched the love of her life walk out the door without a backward glance.