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“You need to leave now. I’ll have accounting cut you a check for the work you did for me and then you need to get whatever things you have here and you need to leave the premises. Forever.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, I mean it, Isa. I mean it more than you could possible imagine.”
“Seriously?” she demanded. “It’s been six years and we’re right back here again?”
“Don’t act offended. After all, you’re the one who put us here.”
“No, Marc. You’re the one at fault this time. Because I didn’t steal those diamonds.”
“Stop talking!” he ordered her as fury threatened to swallow him whole. “Stop lying to me. I can take anything but that. I can take knowing you stole from me, but I can’t take you looking me in the eye and lying to me.”
“I’m not—”
“Get out!” he yelled. “Before I have you escorted from the premises. Get out now and I’ll have your check mailed to you tonight. Just get out.”
“Marc, please—”
He whirled on her then, the rage breaking wide-open inside him. “Get the hell out, Isa, or this time, I really will call the police.”
He walked over to the bar in the corner, poured himself a tall Scotch, and drained it in one long swallow. Then he poured another one and did the same thing.
When he turned around again, prepared to face Isa one last time, he found that she’d finally given him what he’d asked for. She was gone and he was alone. Again.
Seventeen
She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where to go. Didn’t know how to deal with the fact that her heart had just split open and broken into a million pieces. Again.
After she’d fled Marc’s office, his words ringing in her ears, she’d run through the halls, down the stairs and out onto the grounds that stretched along the ocean.
And now, here she was, staring out at that ocean and wondering how, how, how, she could be in this position again. How, after everything that had happened six years ago, that the two of them could be in this position? Again.
She told herself to just leave.
Told herself to walk to the parking lot, climb in her car and drive away.
Told herself that this time, she wouldn’t look back. Ever.
Marc had turned on her again. The thought slammed into her over and over. With each step she took on the sand, with each wave that rolled in, the knowledge that he didn’t trust her ripped at her.
He thought she was a thief, thought that after everything that had happened these past few days—after everything that had happened six years ago—she had actually turned around and stolen from him.
As if she would do that. As if it was even possible for her to hurt him that way.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched that he believed it. After all, he had no problem hurting her. Had no problem turning his back on her six years ago and no problem turning his back on her now—despite all the sweet words he’d spent the past few days, and nights, whispering in her ear.
Just the memory of these few stolen days had her feeling like her whole body would break apart. Like her skin would crack under the weight of her sorrow and her limbs, her organs, her heart would fly right out of her in a million different directions.
Isa wrapped her arms around herself at the thought, tight around her middle, her hands clutching her sides. And she walked along the shore, right where the water met the sand. Right where the infinite waves swamped the crumbling shore.
She walked and walked and walked.
And as she did, she lambasted herself for all the things she’d done wrong. For all the hope she’d let herself feel even when it was idiotic and dangerous...and painful. So painful.
She’d known better, even as she was doing it. Had known better than to trust Marc after what had happened between them six years ago. More, she’d known that he would never be able to fully trust her.
Which was the real problem, wasn’t it? The fact that no matter what she did, no matter how she’d changed her life or how she’d tried to help him, he was never going to get past who she’d been. Never going to see her for who she really was.
