Page 137
The director of Cirque du Soleil had called two weeks ago asking me to reconsider. It seemed an answer directly from the universe.
“And before you give me the lecture. I’m planning on telling her today.”
“Okay. Thank you for that. You know how she gets.”
“I do.”
We were talking about Kinsley. He was concerned about how it was going to affect her mental state. After killing Hannah, she was arrested but subsequently released when the story came out.
She was protecting Isabella, so no charges were filed. But she’d started having nightmares again, and Marcel was worried. Hell, Marcel was worried about every single fucking member of the family these days.
“Did you do the homework I asked?”
I shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “I tried. But the reality is nothing will ever make this situation better. I guess you’ll say time like most people do.”
“I won’t. That would not be effective, nor is it what you need to hear right now. I understand the guilt and sorrow are all-consuming. I won’t minimize it and you shouldn’t either. How are the ribs?”
“Still hurt most days, but manageable,” I murmured.
“Probably doesn’t help that you choose a full back piece.”
I shrugged. The pain was cathartic. He should know that above anyone else.
“Are you at least eating?”
“Yes, here and there, when I can. Still have zero appetite.”
“Do you plan to tell Isabella you’re leaving?”
“No. What’s the point? She told me to let her go and for once I’m going to listen. It’s for the best, anyway. I’ve caused enough damage to last a lifetime. I’ve thought about it a lot. You can tell Sebastian that she didn’t fight for it.”
He gave me a quizzical look. “Isabella is the she here?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. She didn’t fight. For what?”
“He’ll understand.” I stood to go.
“I really wish you’d give it more time,” he said.
“Why? Has she moved back home?”
He shook his head.
“Marcel, the truth is she may never fully recover from this. And that’s on me for bringing Hannah into her life. Sebastian was right, and it’s killing me. I need to get out of here.”
“I understand. I’m sad to see you go. We all are.”
“Not everyone,” I muttered.
“Fuck Sebastian and his childish attitude. If he could only get his head out of his ass long enough, he’d know you were perfect for her. And never think you weren’t. She came alive with you and learned to trust—”
“Only for it to be crushed in a million pieces,” I cut him off. “I’ve got to go. Kinsley is meeting me at the teahouse. Kiss Declan and Tori for me.”
“Dancer,” Marcel called, and my heart caught at the use of the nickname. I turned slightly. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
What I wanted was Isabella’s feet in my lap at the end of the day, as we sat in the media room and watched a movie with the family. To pull her close and kiss the top of her head. I wanted her belly round and to feel my girls moving inside her.
