Chapter 15 Kick #2
“Nothing worth repeating.” I kissed her temple. “He doesn’t matter. You matter. Our baby matters. This—” I gestured at the space between us, at the tangled sheets and the warmth we’d made. “This is what matters.”
She rested her head on my chest. “I want to go back to Whitmore.”
“Me too.”
“When?”
“Right now, if that’s what you want. You can sleep on the way.”
She looked up at me. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“I’d rather be there than here. The farther you are from Baron, the better I’ll feel.”
“Can we stop at your mom’s on the way?”
I blinked. “Are you sure?”
“I am. I need to apologize for the way I left.” She took a breath. “I don’t want them to think I don’t want to be part of your family. I do. I just panicked. And they deserve to hear that from me.”
Pride swelled in my chest. I knew how hard this was for her—how every instinct she had was screaming at her to avoid her vulnerabilities.
But she was doing it anyway.
“Yeah,” I said. “We can stop.”
The house was lit up when we arrived, warm light spilling from every window. Multiple cars in the driveway meant the women hadn’t dispersed after the lunch.
Isabel’s hand found mine as we walked up the path. Her grip was tight enough to hurt.
“You’ve got this,” I said.
“I might throw up.”
“I’ll hold your hair.”
She shot me a look that was half glare, half gratitude. Then she squared her shoulders and knocked.
Ma answered. Her eyes went wide when she saw Isabel, then soft with relief.
“Oh, mija,” she said. “Come in. Both of you.”
Isabel flinched but didn’t bolt. She let my mother lead her inside, into the warmth and light of the living room where the other women waited.
They were all there—Saffron on one end of the sofa, Alex with a wineglass, Jaicon and Addison sharing the loveseat, Eberly perched on the arm of a chair, and Ainsley cross-legged on the floor near Daphne. They looked up when Isabel entered.
“I owe you all an apology,” she began. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did. You were all so kind to me, and I repaid that kindness by disappearing. That was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Silence filled the room.
Then Alex spoke up. “Honey, sit down. You look like you’re about to face a firing squad, and the only thing we’re armed with is wine and leftover dessert.”
A few women laughed. Isabel blinked.
“We’re a lot,” my sister continued. “I know that. I’m a lot all by myself—just ask Kick, he’ll give you an itemized list of all the things I do to make him and the rest of our brothers crazy. Add in all these other personalities, and it’s overwhelming.”
“I still get nervous,” Eberly admitted. “Last Christmas, I locked myself in the bathroom for twenty minutes and pretended I had a stomach bug.”
Addison nodded. “There are days when I need to hide in the pantry just to catch my breath.”
“The bathroom by the kitchen has the best acoustics for crying,” Daphne offered. “Very soothing echo.”
Isabel’s rigid posture softened. “I thought you’d be angry.”
Ma moved forward and took Isabel’s hands. “We could never be angry with you for feeling too much. I told you that you’re part of our family now—and that means we give you grace when you need it. All we ask is that you eventually come back.”
Isabel’s composure cracked. I watched the tears spill over, and I had to fight the urge to go to her. This wasn’t my moment. This was hers.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered. “I never learned.”
“Then, we’ll teach you,” Ma said. “That’s what family is for.”
She pulled Isabel into a hug, and after a moment, Isabel hugged her back and her shoulders shook. The other women gathered around—not crowding, but present. Saffron put a hand on her back. Ainsley squeezed her arm. Even Alex reached out to touch her shoulder.
I stood in the doorway and watched the woman I loved let herself be held by the family she’d been too afraid to claim.
We didn’t get back to Whitmore until almost midnight.
Isabel fell asleep somewhere around King City, her head against the window, one hand on her belly. I reached over and covered it with mine.
We were going to be okay. All three of us.
When we reached the cottage, she woke as I cut the engine.
“We’re home,” she murmured.
“We’re home.”
We stumbled inside together, too tired for anything but sleep. She climbed into bed and reached for me, and I went to her.
She curled against my chest, her leg over mine, her arm around my waist, and the baby nestled between us.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “For coming to find me.”
“Always. That’s the deal.”
“What deal?”
“The one where I show up. Every time. No matter what.”
She tilted her head up and kissed my jaw. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Counting on it.”
As her breathing slowed, I lay in the darkness, holding her, and let myself believe we’d finally gotten over a huge hurdle.
Today had been a turning point. Not just for her, but for me too.
I’d never doubt that Isabel wanted me or loved me.
I knew she did, and each time she needed me to, that’s the knowledge I’d act with.
And tomorrow, we’d figure out the rest. No matter what, though, I knew we’d be okay.