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“Isabel is the most stubborn of the four girls, and that’s … a pretty impressive feat if you’ve met her sisters.” She took a deep breath. “And underneath that is the kindest, biggest heart of anyone I know.”
My face went hot. “Paige, I—”
She ignored me. “She will argue with you helping her. She will fight you every step of the way tonight, and I need you to promise me that you will ignore her when she says she can handle it herself or she doesn’t need anything. Because knowing someone is there to take care of her is the only thing keeping me from losing my mind right now.”
“I promise,” I told her.
“But also,” she continued, her tone perfectly polite, perfectly sweet, “if you upset her in any way, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”
My eyebrows popped up. “Umm, okay?”
“Good talk, Aiden. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Despite the warning, I walked back into the house with a smile on my face.
The kids were fully engrossed in their movie, and I walked quietly past the family room and down the hall to my bedroom.
The light from the hallway spilled into the opening, and Isabel hadn’t moved from the last time I checked on her.
I crouched next to the bed and said her name quietly. Her eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t wake.
Even as I held my breath before I raised my hand, I wondered at the intelligence of allowing myself even this slight touch.
Even before Paige had finished saying what she said, even before I recognized the deep swell of emotion in the words, I knew exactly what Paige was going to say about Isabel.
Because somehow, in the midst of all the mundane, I knew exactly who this woman was.
That was why the details didn’t matter to me.
Carefully, I slid my fingertips along her cheekbone and let out a slow, shaky exhale. Her skin was so soft.
“Isabel,” I said again. “Time to wake up.”
She hummed. Her head turned toward my touch. “Wha—” she murmured sleepily.
My fingers trailed the hairline at the back of her neck, and I said her name again. My palm laid gently along her neck, my entire hand now framing her face.
Slowly, her eyelids fluttered, and she woke. “Aiden,” she whispered.
“You know who I am. That’s good.”
“Mm-hmm.” She inhaled, and I saw the slow trickle of awareness in her face at the way I was touching her.
I pulled my hand back even though that awareness told me it was a welcome touch. “You remember why you’re here?”
“That fucking tree,” she said, stifling a yawn.
I smiled. “What about the year?”
She told me. With a dry look, she also told me the president and what kind of car she drove.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“A little.” She used her good hand to brace on the mattress and sit up. Her hair was a tangled mess, and it was a good thing she was injured. A good thing there were children in the other room. Because she looked so fucking irresistible, I had to step back from the bed.
“I’ll go heat some lasagna,” I told her.
With a slight shake of her head, Isabel opened her mouth, and like an idiot, I laid a finger over her petal-soft lips.
