Her fiery defiance in her apartment.
Her surrendering to the incredible passion between them.
Her quiet dignity as she confessed about her marriage.
Her resolute pride as she admitted she loved him, but could, and would, live without him.
Jesus.
He slammed a fist against the wall, the impact singing up his arm and reverberating in his chest. He’d marched into her apartment, self-righteous and commanding, accusing her of being deceptive and manipulative, when he’d been guilty of both to maneuver her into doing what he wanted. He’d entered their agreement acting the martyr. When in truth she’d been unjustly persecuted. It’d been he who’d entered their relationship without clean hands or a pure heart.
She was the only one—out of all of them—who could claim both.
And he loved that purity of heart. Loved that spirit and bravery that had looked at all the odds stacked against her and plowed through them one by one. Loved the passion that had stealthily, without his knowledge, thawed and then healed the heart he’d believed frozen beyond redemption.
He loved her.
The admission should’ve knocked him on his ass. But it didn’t. Instead it slid through him, warm and strong, like a spring nourishing a barren field.
He loved her.
Maybe he’d started falling from the moment she’d coaxed him out of his panic attack with talk of movies and Ryan Reynolds. No doubt he’d fought his feelings for her, but if he were brutally honest with himself, the inevitable had occurred when she’d embraced him and assured him his love for his friend—her abusive husband—wasn’t wrong.
A weight that had been pressing down on his shoulders lifted, and he could breathe. He could suck in his first lungful of air unencumbered by the past. Turning, he faced Baron. Darius loved him. But if it came down to a choice between him, Helena and Gabrielle, and Isobel and her son—their son—then Isobel and Aiden would win every time.
“I’m going to go find my family,” Darius said.
His family. Isobel and Aiden.
From the slight flinch of Baron’s broad shoulders, the emphasis hadn’t been lost on him.
“I don’t know what this means with you, Helena and Gabriella in the future. Maybe after you tell them the truth, they can find it in their hearts to forgive Gage and let the past go, including their hate of Isobel. But right now, that’s not my issue—it’s theirs and yours. If they can’t, then we won’t be a part of your lives. And that includes Aiden. I won’t allow them to poison him, and you can inform them that if you continue in the pursuit of custody, I’ll stand beside Isobel and fight you.”
Darius pivoted and strode out of the study without a backward glance, steady and determined for the first time since Isobel and Aiden had left.
He had his family to win back.
If they’d have him.
Sixteen
Isobel pushed open the front entrance to her mother’s apartment building, shivering as she stepped out into the cold December air. Her arms tightened around Aiden for a second before she set him on the ground.
“You’re okay?” she asked, kneeling next to him and making sure his jacket was zipped to the top. “Warm?”
Aiden nodded as she tugged his hat lower. “See Darry?” he asked, his eyes wide, hopeful.
A dagger of pain slipped between her ribs at his expectant question. Just as it did every time he asked about Darius. Which was at least five times a day since they’d moved out of the house. At least. Aiden missed Darius, and to be honest, so did she. It’d been a long week. One where she forced herself not to dwell on him every minute of the day. She only succeeded a quarter of the time.
She smothered a sigh, shaking her head. “No, baby,” she said, crying inside as his little face fell, the sparkle of excitement in his eyes dimming.
He didn’t understand that they were no longer living with Darius, that he would no longer be a permanent part of their lives. And it crushed her to hurt and disappoint her son. Darius had called a few times, but as soon as she saw his number, she’d passed the phone to Aiden.
Hearing his voice, talking to him—she wasn’t ready for it yet. Didn’t believe she would still have the courage and determination to say no if he asked her to return home.
Home.
She’d constantly told Darius his house wasn’t hers, but somewhere along the way, she’d started thinking of it as home. And she missed it. Missed Ms. Jacobs.
