Chapter 26
Isabelle
Isabelle should have known something was up when she didn’t see Jason’s truck. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d seen it last. How many days? Weeks? It couldn’t have been that long, right?
She sat on the front porch and watched the men come and go from the mess hall, waiting to at least catch a glimpse of him after lunch was over. When Mark followed the last few stragglers, she got to her feet and headed in that direction.
Isabelle nearly made it to the door when Nikki and Marcus exited. Was Marcus helping with the food now? That didn’t make sense.
Nikki smiled warmly. “Hey, Izzie. You need anything? I didn’t see you for lunch.”
Shaking her head, she snuck another look toward the building. “I was just…” Her voice trailed off. Marcus wasn’t aware of how close she’d gotten with Jason. And she wasn’t sure how much Nikki knew. How could she explain that she was looking for Jason and hadn’t seen him around?
If they had figured out that Jason meant something more to her, then it would look even worse if she didn’t realize he was sick or on vacation.
She cleared her throat and glanced between the two. She nearly asked Nikki if she could speak to her alone, but someone called out to her sister-in-law.
They all turned to see Nikki’s son running over. Paxton grabbed Nikki’s hand. “Daddy said we can go to the café today if you say it’s okay. I want another chocolate soufflé.”
A pang ricocheted in Isabelle’s chest.
Chocolate soufflé. That was what Jason had fixed for her at the very beginning of their relationship. She watched Paxton with curiosity. She was aware that Nikki had convinced Mateo to invest in a small café in town, but she hadn’t gone out that way to see it for herself.
Heading to town was still on her “no” list. She didn’t want to risk bumping into Dillan. And after she’d gotten into a fight with Charlie about the guy, her friend had intelligently avoided any topics related to him.
Nikki dropped down to eye level with her son. She licked her thumb and scrubbed at a smudge on her son’s face.
He made a disgusted sound and batted at her hands. Marcus and Isabelle exchanged humored glances as Nikki got to her feet. “Sure, we can go. Tell your dad I just want to freshen up.” She waved at Isabelle. Then to Marcus, she asked, “I’d love your help for supper.”
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”
Isabelle waited until Nikki was well out of earshot before she whirled on her brother. “Why are you helping in the kitchen?”
His expression hardened, but he didn’t say anything as he headed for the house.
She was faster and darted out in front of him. “Is Jason sick? Or has something happened?”
“I’m not talking about this with you. We agreed—”
“We agreed? Who? What are you keeping from me?” she demanded, hands on her hips. “I deserve to know if my…” Her voice trailed off. They weren’t dating anymore. And if they had been, she would have surely known what was going on.
“Just leave it alone, Isabelle. It’s not good for you to get riled up.”
She snorted. “What do you know about me and my health? You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through.”
“You’re right!” Marcus had never raised his voice to her or anyone in their family before, and she startled. “Because you won’t share anything with us. Not even with Charlie!”
She blanched. Had everyone been talking about her?
The theories they must have been spreading had to be worse than the truth, and yet she still couldn’t bring herself to tell him.
Charlie had been sworn to secrecy, which was likely the only reason Marcus thought she hadn’t said anything.
Isabelle would have to remember to thank her best friend for having her back.
Just as quickly as the blood drained from her face, her cheeks flushed hot. “My life is my business and mine alone.”
“Not when you’re hurting yourself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Marcus gave her a flat look, then gestured to her. “You’re still barely eating. Have you noticed how loose your clothes have gotten? I know you’re not sleeping well. You never have. And now that Jason is gone—”
“Gone?” she squeaked. Her eyes flew to the wranglers’ cabin where all the men stayed. “No.” The last word was said in a hushed whisper, and she sprinted toward it.
Marcus’s sigh of frustration was overshadowed by his pounding footsteps. “Isabelle, wait.”
She couldn’t. No one had told her that he’d left. He hadn’t said he was leaving. What kind of person did that to someone they cared about? Isabelle made it to his room, breathless and pounded on the door. When no one answered, she pounded her fists on it again. “Jason?”
The door swung open, and she gasped when she caught sight of Mark. His expression was unreadable, and his focus flicked to Marcus, who stood a few feet behind her. She only had to peer into the room for a matter of seconds to take in the empty side of the room where Jason used to live.
Her heart plummeted and her vision swam.
No.
He wouldn’t. He couldn’t just leave like that. This was worse than the breakup because she’d known he was only a little way away in case she’d needed him.
Isabelle barely registered that she’d swayed on her feet before her brother reached out to steady her. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, forcing the panic attack away. No. She refused to accept this.
“Izzie…” Marcus said gently.
“No!” She practically shouted, ripping out of his arms. “This is your fault. All of you. Mateo. Nikki. All of you.” She pushed past him, her steps unsteady as she rushed for the house.
She needed her phone. Maybe if she called him, she’d be able to convince him to come back.
Mateo had to take him back. Nikki, too. He was the best chef they had.
But after she tried calling him several times with no answer, she knew it was over.
Jason had left. He’d abandoned her.
He would not be coming back.
She lost track of time as she sat on her bed.
The light dimmed as the sun went down. Someone brought her dinner, but she ignored it.
Staring at the same spot on the wall, she attempted to go over everything in her head.
How had everything gotten so messed up? A few months ago, she’d had everything she could have wanted.
She was feeling more like herself. She had the love of a good man. Everything was perfect.
No, not perfect.
Isabelle had to remind herself of that fact.
Perfection wasn’t possible, not when her insides had been charred by a bad experience with no way to cut it out.
“Izzie?” Charlie’s quiet voice broke through her internal suffering. The mattress dipped at her side and a warm hand wrapped around her cool one. “Izzie, I’m here.”
Without a word, Isabelle let her head fall onto her friend’s shoulder. She was the only one who knew everything and had stuck around.
Maybe that wasn’t really fair. As much as she wanted to blame Jason for leaving, she knew that she’d done her fair share of pushing people away.
She’d thought she was strong enough to handle all of this.
She’d convinced herself that the turmoil she experienced wasn’t bad enough to warrant getting professional help. Whenever the suggestion was offered up as a way to make her feel better, she’d taken offense.
And she’d spit in the faces of those who only wanted to see her thrive.
Isabelle closed her eyes. A tear slipped from her eye, down her temple, and into Charlie’s shirt. She was lost and so alone.
No. Not alone.
There were people who loved her surrounding her. They were reaching out to her, and all she had to do was take their hand.
“I’m sorry,” Isabelle said with a teary rasp.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Charlie insisted.
Isabelle squeezed more tears from her eyes. “Yes, I do. I’ve been terrible.”
“You’ve been going through a lot.”
“I haven’t—”
“Isabelle,” her friend admonished, “don’t cheapen the experiences you went through by comparing them with others. Each of our souls is different. We have different strengths and different weaknesses. Some of us can barrel through the worst kinds of torture while others have a gentler spirit.”
She snickered despite herself. “That’s just a nice way of saying I’m a weak link in the grand scheme of things.”
“No,” Charlie said firmly. “Because where you see weakness, we can all see strength. I don’t know how I would have reacted if I’d gone through what you have.
None of us does. I’m a firm believer that we’re never given more than we can handle, and if this is where you meet your personal threshold, then own it. Conquer it.”
Charlie reached over and took Isabelle’s hand in hers.
She squeezed reassuringly. “You’ll get through this.
Make no mistake. You’re strong. Stronger than you might realize.
And asking for help doesn’t mean that you’re any less of a person.
In fact, I’m a firm believer that asking for help is what makes us strong. ”
Her words rang through the quiet room with a sense of finality. Goosebumps clawed from beneath her skin, sending shivers through the rest of her body. It would take some getting used to, but maybe Charlie was right.
Maybe the only way to get to a better place was to finally accept some help from someone else—someone who wouldn’t judge and who could talk her through every scar and emotional wound that Isabelle had allowed to fester.
“Jason gave me a card for someone.”
Charlie stilled but didn’t speak.
“A therapist,” Isabelle clarified. “Maybe I should make an appointment.”
“Only when you’re ready.” Her friend didn’t know how much those words meant to her. This whole time, she’d been told she needed to do something, to get help. Even Charlie had said as much before.
Now, it almost felt right. Because Isabelle was making the decision on her own.
She’d gotten to the point where she could see how she was hurting others.
She’d pushed Jason away. She’d pushed her family and friends away.
While she might have been coasting the last few weeks as she worked through the anxiety of seeing Dillan again, she wasn’t healing.
She hadn’t been ready.
Until now.