Chapter Twelve
“A sacrifice not shed, is an invitation to pin, a weakness waiting to happen.”
~Christos Patras
It took a solid week before Isadora could accept the truth. The Monday following the breakup was one of the most insufferable nights of her life, the inescapable proof that they were over forced her to confront how much she wished they were still together, despite her knowledge that she deserved a man who wanted her.
No. Sawyer did want her, but he couldn’t come to terms with his desires.
He pushed her away because he loved her enough to want something better for her future, something bigger than what he could offer. As much as that unspoken truth should have comforted her, it didn’t. He was a coward.
Watching her mother grovel for her father, even after his countless affairs, had scarred Isadora. Her mother’s blatant lack of self-respect caused Isadora to vow long ago never to let a man humiliate her in such a way.
Had her mother walked away when her father first discarded their marriage, vows, and affection, she might have found true happiness, someone who deserved her loyal heart. But she stayed, a thorn bird intent on bludgeoning its vulnerable heart in want of the impossible.
Isadora could not— would not —give her heart to someone who didn’t want it. Yet, for all her pride, she couldn’t stop herself from loving Sawyer.
In the weeks that followed she suffered a steady argument with herself, debating his logic against her inner desire to go back to him. But she couldn’t go back. She would not sacrifice her dignity for a man who refused to give his heart.
It took every bit of self-possession not to call him or go to his house. Seducing him into bed wouldn’t be much of a challenge, but it also wasn’t a solution. The solution was finding someone willing to give her everything she deserved.
She and Sawyer never lacked chemistry. But going back to him after being so resolutely pushed away would get them nowhere. He told her to go after the life she desired—and damn him for knowing her so well. But she also desired him and those feelings didn’t fade easily.
Their definitions of happiness were drastically different and she believed that was due to timing. Had she been born earlier, caught him at a different stage of life, they could have made each other perfectly happy, had a family, gotten married. But there was no changing reality.
She loved a man who refused to love her back, because he believed he couldn’t fulfill her needs.
It was a wretched awareness and one she wished she could shut off. She certainly didn’t want to suffer anything close to this heartache again. Which made the probability of her finding someone else, trusting someone else with her heart, absolutely implausible.
Love simply hurt too much. And if she fell in love again, the fall might very well kill her.
He was her confidant, her adviser, her sounding board and closest friend. He listened to her, knew her inside and out. Without him, she had no one to unburden herself to and she had so much inside that needed to get out—pain that he created.
Sawyer versus a family. Love and truth or familiarity and secrets? Affirmation versus silence. Resentment or affection? Black or white? Settle or fight? She was being torn in half and couldn’t focus on anything, because every option came with a drastic drawback.
The simple task of packing Toni’s lunch overwhelmed her. She’d stopped going to her Italian class, because her mind was in such turmoil, warring against her heart, she could barely listen when anyone spoke.
Even books couldn’t offer an escape, so she spent days wandering around the house, drifting from room to room, waiting for something to catch her interest, but nothing ever did.
Holding a secret this size was a terrifying thing.
She questioned her sanity, worried if their relationship was ever real. The longer she went without him, the more it seemed like just a dream.
In a desperate attempt to hold her memory intact, she passed several days writing their story down. But recollecting the good times made her equally as sad as the bad times. It was all tainted, over, and foolish of her to hold onto a fantasy that would never amount to anything real.
She locked their story in a file hidden deep in the documents of her laptop and made the impossible decision to never read it again. It was over and there was no promise of a happy ending.
Depression was swallowing her more and more with every passing week and no matter how she tried not to let it win, she seemed no match for the despondency. Not only did she not like her situation, she despised her weakness.
Getting over her broken heart was necessary. But she honestly didn’t know if she was strong enough.
As she lay on the couch one evening, staring at the television, not registering what she watched, her phone rang. It was probably Toni wanting to get picked up which meant she had to start dinner soon. Maybe they’d just order takeout again.
Guilt nudged the other ugly emotions aside, as shame corroded her thinking. Eventually, she’d have to get back to normal, but she couldn’t figure out how.
Lost. She felt so lost and no one even cared that she was missing. The phone rang again and she sighed.
I just want to be left alone in my misery. “Hello?”
“Isa? Were you sleeping?”
Wrong sibling. “No, just lying down.”
As much as she wanted to escape the pain, every intrusion was an annoyance. She needed to wallow in peace. God, her thinking had turned into a landmine of hypocrisy.
“Are you sick?” Lucian asked, voice concerned.
“No. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“Well, I am.” Talking could be so tedious. “Did you need something?”
“Where’s Toni?”
She frowned. He and Toni didn’t have much of a phone relationship. “Out. Why?”
“Out where?”
“I don’t know, Lucian, out with her friends from school.” Her tone came out more tart and impatient than she would have liked.
Silence. “I’m sorry I bothered you. Tell Toni to call me when she gets home.”
There was something strange in his voice and she didn’t like how paranoid his request made her feel. “Why do you need to talk to Toni?”
“Do I need a reason to talk to my little sister?”
“Lucian, quit playing games.”
“Isa, what is wrong? And don’t tell me nothing.”
She scoffed. “You just want to get information out of Toni.”
“So what?” he snapped. “Something’s obviously going on with you. If you don’t want me to talk to her about it then you talk to me. I can tell you’re in a mood.”
“That’s right. Something’s going on with me , Lucian. Not with Toni. Not with you.” Why did men think they could fix everything? Like a penis was some sort of magic wand women lacked. “Just leave me alone.”
“Why are you acting so bitchy?” he barked. “Are you mad at me?”
Bitchy? He has some nerve!
“Everything isn’t about you! I think I’m entitled to a bad day. You’ve had plenty! Just leave me the hell alone!”
The line went dead, before she could retract her words. Staring down at the phone she caught her breath. She was being a bitch—and to the wrong man. “Oh my God.”
She dialed him back and it went to voicemail so she dialed again. She never spoke to him like that— they didn’t speak to each other that way. At least not since he was a moody teen. God help her, she was acting like a child.
Her behavior was out of control, unacceptable, and she couldn’t bear the thought of either of her siblings being upset with her. She dialed a third time.
“What?”
She flinched at his greeting. “I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m… I can’t talk about it.” She caught a tear at the corner of her eye. “But you can’t fix it anyway. No one can.”
“Isa, you can talk to me about anything. We’re family.”
We’re a family, remember?
Her heart pinched, recalling his words from over a decade ago, hearing the plea of a little lamb now disguised in wolf’s clothing. He would always be her caring little brother, no matter how intimidating he pretended to be as a man.
She wished she could confide in him. “Not about this, Lucian.” Perhaps that was what hurt most. Her eyes slowly leaked. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s this ? Did something happen?”
She was so exhausted, her ceaseless thoughts keeping her up all night. Lucian didn’t easily let things go, mostly because he took it upon himself to keep her and Toni safe. He was very protective of those he loved, but even he couldn’t fix a broken heart. “It’s about a guy…”
“A guy?”
“I can’t talk about it with you. I’m just going through something right now. I’m sure I’ll be fine once I’ve processed.” No idea how long that would take.
His voice was frighteningly calm. “Did this guy do something to you, Isa?”
“I can’t—”
“Did someone fucking hurt you? I want the truth and I want a name—”
“Lucian, it’s not that sort of situation.”
“You aren’t hurt then?”
She lowered her head, her pain a steady ache in her bones. Some wounds hurt more than physical bruises.
She shut her eyes as the tears gathered. “I’m heartbroken.”
He let out a slow breath and when he spoke again his voice was gentle. “I’m coming over. I’m in the city anyway. You’re going to talk and I’ll listen.”
Her face pinched as she silently wept. There would be no stopping him, but even he wasn’t strong enough to pull the truth out of her. It was then she finally understood so much of her pain was humiliation. She’d wasted three years of her life chasing a fantasy.
Lucian arrived—with pizza—about forty-five minutes after they hung up. As thoughtful as it was that he came all this way, she still couldn’t confide in him.
What good would it do for him to know his best friend’s father put her in this situation? Sawyer wasn’t even fully to blame. She’d known what she was getting into. He told her his feelings on love and relationships the first night they’d slept together.
But Lucian proved to be a good distraction anyway. They watched a movie, ate, and he even made her laugh a few times, telling stories about some of his college friends.
When Toni needed a ride home, he volunteered to go get her. After their sister went to bed Isadora was hardly able to keep her eyes open.
“Who was he, Isa?” Lucian asked, his focus appearing to be on the television.
Leaning into the arm of the sofa, she closed her eyes. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
She peeked through her lashes, appraising the tense set of his jaw and the tightness of his fist resting on his knee.
“Because you have that crazy look in your eyes and I don’t want you to hurt him.”
“He hurt you.”
“I let myself get hurt. I was stupid.”
He glared at her. “Don’t call yourself that. He’s the one who let you get away.”
She silently chuckled. “You’re very sweet when you want to be, Lucian.”
“I’m not saying it to be sweet. I’m saying it because it’s true. That guy must be a total moron if he didn’t see what a catch you are. He did you a favor. You’ll be better off with someone who appreciates you.”
She laughed without humor. “He’d agree with you there.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry about it. Thank you for coming over tonight.” Her eyes were getting too heavy to keep open.
Feeling herself nod off, she sucked in a breath and groggily jerked awake only to find Lucian draping a blanket over her.
His mouth curved in a tender smile as he brushed a hand over her hair. “Get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She shut her eyes, his care blanketing her more than anything else. “Love you…”
“Love you, too.”