He tore his gaze away from the magnificent piece and met her eyes. Awe, gratefulness, regret and sadness—they all coalesced into a jumbled, thick mass that lodged in his throat, choking him.
She’d bought a gift for him, had chosen it with care and thoughtfulness.
And he’d returned that kindness with suspicion and scorn.
He’d fucked up.
“Thank you,” he rasped. “Isobel...”
“Save it.” She took another step back. “You’re sorry now. Until the next time when I fail some test or, worse, pass it. Is this what I have to look forward to for however long thisagreementlasts? I spent two years walking on eggshells. At least give me a handbook, Darius. Tell me now so I can avoid the condescending comments, the scathing glares and condemning silences.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, trying again to apologize. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“I know I didn’t,” she snapped. “But the truth is, you can say those two words, but you obviously believed I did. You convicted me without even offering me the benefit of the doubt. Of course, me sitting with a man couldn’t be innocent. Not Isobel ‘The Gold Digger’ Hughes.”
Suddenly the anger leaked from her face, from her body. Her shoulders sagged, and a heavy sadness shadowed her eyes. The sight of it squeezed his heart so hard, an ache bloomed across his chest.
“I just wanted to do something nice for you. To show you how much I appreciate all you’ve done for Aiden, show you all that you...” She trailed off, ducking her head briefly before lifting it.Finish it, he silently yelled.Finish that sentence. “I’m fighting a losing battle here, and Darius, I’m tired. Tired of trying to change your mind, of proving myself, of paying the price for a sin I never committed. I’m...” She shrugged, lifting her hands with the palms up in surrender. “Tired.”
Slowly, she turned and headed toward the study entrance.
“Isobel,” he called after her, her name scoring his throat. But she didn’t pause, and desperation scratched him bloody, demanding hestop her. Give her the truth he’d kept from her. Pride and honesty waged a battle inside him. Self-preservation and vulnerability. “Stop. Please.”
She’d jerked to a halt at his “please.” Probably because she’d never heard him utter the word before. Still, her back remained to him, as if he had mere seconds before she bolted again.
Shoving a hand through his hair, he thrust the other in his pants pocket and paced to one of the walls of windows. “I don’t remember you at the wedding, but you might recall that I married. Her name was Faith.” He emitted a soft scoff. “When we first met, her name had seemed like a sign. Like fate or God sending me a message that she was the one. I’d wanted what my parents had, and I thought I’d found that with Faith.
“She’d reminded me of my mother. Not just beautiful and elegant, but full of life and laughter. Faith had a way of dragging a smile out of you even when everything had gone to hell. Dad used to call it the ability to ‘charm the birds right out of the trees.’” In spite of the ugly tale he was about to divulge, a faint smile quirked a corner of his mouth. He couldn’t count how many times his father had lovingly said that about his mom, usually after she’d used said charm to finagle something out of him. “Faith and I only dated several months, but the Wellses loved and approved of her, and I believed we would have a long, happy marriage... I was wrong.”
Isobel’s scent, delicate and feminine, drifted to him seconds before she appeared at his side. She didn’t touch him but stood close enough that he could feel her.
“Within six months, I realized I’d made a mistake. The affectionate, witty woman I’d known turned catty, cold and spiteful. Especially if I said no to something she wanted. I discovered a little too late that she didn’t love me as much as she loved what I could afford to give her. As much as the lifestyle I offered her.” He clenched his jaw. The despair, disillusion and anger that had been his faithful companions back then returned, reminding him how foolish he’d been. “But even then, I’d still been determined to salvage our relationship. Hoping she’d change back into the woman I’d married. Then...” He paused, fisting his fingers inside his pants pockets. “Then I came home a day early from a business trip. Since it’d been late, I hadn’t called to let her know I was arriving. I walked into our bedroom and found her. And one of my vice presidents. I froze. Stunned. And in so much goddamn pain, I couldn’t breathe. By this time, our marriage was hanging on by a thread, but I was still hopeful. Of all the things she could do—had done—I hadn’t expected this betrayal. Didn’t think she was capable of it.”
Again, he paused, his chest constricting as the memories of that night bombarded him, the utter helplessness and grief that had grounded his feet in that bedroom doorway, rendering him an unwilling voyeur to his wife’s infidelity.
A delicate hand slipped into his pants pocket and closed over his fist. He tore his sightless gaze away from the window and glanced at Isobel. She didn’t face him, keeping her own stare focused ahead, but the late afternoon light reflected off the shiny track of tears sliding down her cheek.
She was crying.
For him.
Clearing his throat, he looked away, that tightness in his chest now a noose around his neck. He forced himself to continue. To lance the wound.
“I filed for divorce the next morning. We’d only been married a year and a half. A year and a half,” he repeated. “I felt like a failure. Still do. I was so ashamed, I hid the truth from Baron, Helena and Gabriella. They still don’t know why Faith and I divorced.”
His admission echoed inside him like a clanging church bell. He’d never voiced those words aloud. Didn’t want to admit that his disastrous marriage continued to affect his life years after it had ended. Thank God he hadn’t been so lovestruck that he’d forgone a prenup. He wouldn’t have put it past Faith to try to clean him out just from spitefulness.
“Why?” Isobel asked, her voice gentle but strong. “You made a mistake. It doesn’t make you a failure. Just human. Like all of us mortals. Wanting to believe in a person, wanting to believe in love, doesn’t reflect on your intelligence or lack of it. It speaks volumes about your integrity, your honor, your heart. Just because that other person didn’t have the character or dignity to respect their vows, to cherish and protect your heart, doesn’t mean you’re a fool or a disappointment. She didn’t respect your relationship, you or herself. That’s her sin, not yours. But, Darius,” she turned to him, and he shifted his gaze back to her. “It’s your decision, but you should forgive her, let it go.”
He frowned. “I have forgiven her, and obviously I’ve moved on. I’m not pining for her.” Hell no. That bridge had not only been burned, but the ashes spread.
“No, you haven’t,” she objected. “Forgiveness isn’t just about cutting someone off or entering new relationships. It’s deciding not to allow that person or that experience to shape your decisions, your life. It’s not giving that person power over you even though they’re long gone. And when your choices, your views, are influenced by past hurt, then those betrayals do have power over you.” Her mouth twisted into a rueful smile. “I should know. I’ve fought this battle for two years. But understand—this is what I’ve had to come to grips with—forgiveness isn’t saying what that person did was okay. It’s just choosing to no longer let that poison kill you.”
“Who have you forgiven, Isobel?” he murmured, but his mind already whispered the answer to him.
She didn’t immediately answer, but seconds later she sighed and dipped her head in a small nod.
“Every day when I get up, I make the choice to forgive Gage. It’s a daily process of letting go of the pain and anger. Especially since he’s Aiden’s father. I refuse to taint that for him with my own bitterness. And I refuse to be held hostage by it. Gage isn’t here any longer. I’m never going to hear ‘I’m sorry’ from him. And even though Faith is very much alive, you most likely won’t receive an apology from her either. So, what do we do? Forgive ourselves for the guilt and blame that isn’t ours. But as long as we hold on to the past, we can never grab ahold of the future and all it has for us.”
