Chapter 13 #2
The storm intensified rapidly, rain falling in sheets driven by gusting wind. Thunder crashed overhead, and lightning illuminated the sky. He was completing his final checks when he heard an unexpected sound in front of the building - a car engine and a door slamming.
Moments later, Isabella appeared in the doorway, drenched despite the brief distance from her car to the entrance.
“A tree blew down on my street. Deputy had it barricaded before I even got close - said it won't be passable for hours yet."
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine, just wet,” she said, smiling. “I thought I might beat the worst of it, but the storm moved in faster than I expected.”
A particularly violent gust of wind rattled the windows, followed by a crash from upstairs. They exchanged glances before hurrying toward the sound.
The source became immediately apparent when they reached the third floor.
A section of the temporary roof covering had torn away, allowing wind-driven rain to pour onto the partially renovated guest rooms. Water already pooled on the hardwood floor, threatening to seep between the boards and damage the ceiling below.
“This is like deja vu, isn’t it?” Isabella said, laughing.
“We’ve got to contain this quickly,” Thomas said. “There are tarps in the storage room downstairs. We can create a barrier to direct the water away from the floor.”
Isabella nodded. “I’ll get towels to soak up what has already spilled.”
They separated, gathered supplies, and came back together minutes later to work in the dim light.
Since the power had predictably failed shortly after the storm’s intensity increased, they secured a heavy tarp across the exposed section of the roof, creating a channel that directed the water into buckets.
The work was challenging, requiring them to balance on ladders in near darkness, only occasionally illuminated by lightning flashes. Rain continued to pour through the opening until they managed to secure the tarp, soaking them both despite their efforts to stay dry.
“Hold this corner,” Thomas said, passing Isabella one end of the tarp while he secured the opposite side to an exposed beam.
Their hands brushed briefly during the exchange, which heightened the tension of the moment.
The contact sent a jolt through Thomas, unrelated to the storm.
Even soaked and exhausted in near darkness, he was hyperaware of her - the determined set of her jaw, how skillfully she moved, how perfectly they worked together.
This partnership felt inevitable, like something that had been waiting thirty years to reconnect.
When the immediate crisis was contained, they turned their attention to soaking up water with towels and moving furniture away from the affected area.
“I think it’s the best we can do until the storm passes,” Thomas said finally, looking around. “The tarp should hold unless the wind gets a lot worse.”
Isabella nodded and pushed her damp hair back from her forehead. “What about the rest of the roof? Should we check any other areas?”
“Good thinking,” Thomas agreed. “Let’s do a complete inspection while we’re already soaked.”
They checked the remaining rooms on the third floor and found two minor leaks, which they addressed with temporary measures. By the time they completed their inspection, they were thoroughly drenched, but the inn was as secure as they could make it.
“We should get out of these wet clothes,” Thomas said as they walked to the main floor. “I keep some spare work shirts in my truck. They’ll be big on you, but at least they’re dry.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Isabella said, shivering. “I hadn’t planned on an impromptu shower today.”
Thomas retrieved the shirts from his vehicle and then dashed through the downpour, returning even wetter than before. The shirts were in plastic bags, thankfully. He handed Isabella a clean button-up shirt and then gestured toward the small bathroom.
“You can change in there. I’ll use the staff bathroom near the kitchen.”
When they reconvened in the library several minutes later, the incongruity of their appearance - Isabella in a men’s shirt that nearly reached her knees and Thomas with his hair still dripping onto the shoulders of his dry shirt - created a moment of shared amusement that broke the tension.
"This is quite a look," Isabella said with a self-conscious laugh, tugging at the oversized shirt. Her damp hair curled around her makeup-free face, and without her usual professional polish, she looked younger, more vulnerable.
Thomas thought she'd never been more beautiful. “A man’s shirt suits you," he said, his voice coming out rougher than intended.
Their eyes met, and the air between them shifted - charged with something beyond camaraderie or shared crisis.
The dim light of the battery-powered lantern Thomas had taken from the emergency supplies made the library feel intimate and separate from the outside world.
“I can’t believe we’re dealing with another storm again. This is becoming a pattern,” Isabella said as she settled into one of the library’s reading chairs.
“Summer thunderstorms are usually pretty fast-moving, although we’re almost into fall at this point, so I’m not really sure what this one’s doing.
” He sat down across from her. “When they stall over the island, they can last for hours, though, and based on the radar I checked before the power went out, we might be in for a longer one.”
“At least we’re dry, sort of, and the inn is as secure as we can make it,” she said.
“Yeah, it usually takes a few hours even after the rain stops,” Thomas said. “The tide can play a factor, too. If the storm coincides with a high tide, the flooding will take longer to subside. Where’s Luella?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. She had talked about maybe going to visit her niece in Charleston, so maybe she got stuck over there.”
They fell into comfortable conversation as the storm raged outside, talking about the renovation, all the upcoming tasks, and some of the island residents.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to thank you,” Isabella said during a lull in the conversation, “for dinner the other night with Emma. It was great to spend time together outside of work. I haven’t really done a lot of social things since I moved here, other than the Ladies Club, of course.”
“We enjoyed having you,” Thomas said sincerely, “and Emma was particularly pleased to share her marketing ideas with you. She’s so grateful that you’re supportive of her potential career change.”
“She really has a remarkable talent.”
“Well, that’s a nice thing to say,” Thomas said with a smile.
A comfortable silence fell between them, with just the drumming of the rain on the roof and occasional rumbles of thunder. Now more distant, as the storm started moving past the island.
“Can I ask you something?” Isabella said, “About the past?”
Thomas felt apprehension, sensing they were approaching territory they had so far avoided in their professional interactions.
But maybe it was the isolation of the storm or the natural intimacy that had developed by sharing the emergency response - he felt like the question was going to be more inevitable than intrusive.
“Of course,” he said, as his heart rate accelerated.
Isabella sucked in a deep breath and then slowly blew it out before asking her question.
“Why did you really end things between us?” Her gaze was steady despite the vulnerability in the question.
“It’s been thirty years, and I’ve made peace with what happened, but I’ve never understood why one day we were planning our future together and the next you were gone.
Did you think our relationship was a mistake or something? ”
The question hung in the air between them. Thomas had known the moment might come and even tried to initiate the conversation himself - with Emma’s encouragement, of course - but now it had arrived, and he found himself struggling to find the right words.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “What we had was real and important. I loved you, Isabella. That was never the issue.”
“Then what was?”
Thomas took a deep breath. “Shortly after you left for your internship, my father's business collapsed completely.
Bad investments, mounting debts - he was facing bankruptcy and potentially jail time.
" He paused, the shame still fresh after so many years.
"I was desperate. I called Sarah's family because they had money and had once been fond of me. "
He met Isabella's eyes. "They agreed to help, but only if I married Sarah immediately after graduation. It wasn't a loan, it was a transaction. My father's freedom in exchange for giving Sarah what she'd always wanted."
Understanding dawned in Isabella's expression. "They blackmailed you."
"I told myself I was being honorable, doing the right thing. But the truth is, I had no choice. It was marry Sarah or watch my father lose everything, and possibly his freedom. Sarah never even knew what her parents did.” His voice dropped.
"Emma came a year later, and she's the only part of that choice I've never regretted. "
"So you sacrificed everything - your dreams, our future - to save your father.
" Isabella's voice was steady, but her eyes welled.
"That wasn't abandonment, Thomas. That was impossible circumstances and people who manipulated your honor against you.
" She was quiet for a long moment. "I spent thirty years thinking I hadn't been enough, that you'd realized you'd made a mistake with me.
Knowing the truth doesn't erase those years, but it.
.. It helps me understand we were victims of circumstances, not failures of the heart. "
"I should have told you then," Thomas said. "Should have given you the choice to wait or to walk away knowing the truth. Instead, I chose for you."
"You were twenty-two and terrified," Isabella said gently. "I understand why you did what you did. I just wish..." She trailed off.
"Wish what?"
"That you'd trusted me enough to let me stand beside you through it.
Even if the outcome had been the same. Thank you for trusting me with this now," Isabella said.
Then, more quietly: "I need you to know I'm not that twenty-two-year-old girl anymore who needed protecting from hard truths.
I've built my career on handling crises and making difficult decisions. "
Thomas nodded, though something in her tone suggested a specific concern. "Of course. I see how capable you are every day with the inn."
But even as he said it, part of him wanted to shield her from the challenges ahead - Grayson's escalating pressure, the financial complexities, the island politics. Old protective instincts died hard.
“Does Emma know all of this?” Isabella asked, surprised.
“Yes. We discussed it during your first visit after you arrived on the island. She was curious about our history. She’s been not-so-subtly encouraging me to clear the air with you ever since.”
“Well, that explains a few things about her interest in our dinner together,” Isabella said, amusement passing across her face.
“She’s not exactly subtle in her matchmaking efforts,” Thomas agreed.
“You know, I appreciate your honesty now, even if it was long delayed,” Isabella said. “I understand why you made the choice you did. Emma is clearly the center of your world, and you’ve been an extraordinary father to her. I can’t imagine you being anything less.”
The generosity of her response, free from recrimination or bitterness, touched Thomas. “Thank you for that. It means more than I can express.”
Isabella nodded. “So with Sarah, your marriage to her was it…”
“It was a good partnership,” Thomas replied honestly.
“We shared a lot of respect for each other and commitment to Emma, and had common values. Sarah was truly a remarkable woman - intelligent, practical, principled - and we built a solid life together, even if it wasn’t the grand passion of youthful romance.
” He paused for a moment, wanting to be truthful.
“She knew about you - not the full circumstances of our breakup - but that you had been important to me, and she was okay with that. Well, she was secure in who she was,” Thomas explained.
“She once said that, ‘her loss was my gain, wasn’t it?’ That was Sarah.
Direct, no nonsense, but with a generous heart. ”
Isabella smiled. “She sounds like someone I might have liked under different circumstances.”
“Oh, you would have,” Thomas agreed. “You’re similar in some ways - that core of strength, that practical approach to challenges. Emma sees that in you, too. She mentioned it to me after meeting you.”
The comparison seemed to please Isabella, although she didn’t comment directly on it. Instead, she stared out the window where the rain had finally subsided to a gentle drizzle. “The storm’s passing,” she said. “The road should reopen soon.”
Thomas recognized that subtle shift in conversation as a signal that she needed some time to process. Thirty years of wondering had been answered in a single conversation. It was natural that she would want space to consider things.
“Probably within the hour,” he said, respecting her unspoken request to return to more neutral territory.
“You know, we should check the temporary repairs once more before we leave. Make sure everything’s holding up.
This seems to be becoming a common thing, us getting stuck here in the house during a storm. ”
She laughed and nodded her head as they rose from their chairs. They made their final inspection, and the interaction remained comfortable, but slightly more reserved.
The road reopened as predicted, allowing them to depart as darkness settled over the island. Standing beside their respective vehicles in the driveway, they found themselves in a moment of uncertain farewell.
“Thanks again for your help with the roof,” Thomas said.
“We make a great emergency response team.”
She smiled. “We do. And thank you for the shirt. I’ll wash it and return it tomorrow.”
“Oh, no rush,” Thomas said, waving his hand. “Thanks for listening, and for understanding.”
She met his gaze directly, her expression thoughtful. “You know, thirty years is a long time to wonder about something. I’m glad to finally know the truth.” She paused for a moment. “I do need some time to process it all, but I’m grateful for your honesty.”
“Of course,” Thomas said. “Take all the time you need.”
As Thomas drove through the rain-washed evening, he felt both lighter and more settled than he'd been in years. He'd finally told Isabella the truth, and she'd responded with grace and understanding he hadn't deserved.
Some lessons, it seemed, took more than thirty years to learn.