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She nodded.
“He was at church when he collapsed. An ambulance took him to the hospital. He died a few hours later.”
She nodded again, as if she knew, but no one had told her anything.
“That’s all,” he said. “I wanted to be sure you knew, and that his things got to you.”
She was still staring into the mess of paper and plastic in the box when Tom stood.
Bear, disturbed from his sleep beneath the side table, hissed at Tom then took off across the room to disappear down the hall.
“The cat missed you,” she said.
“He just ran away.”
“He does that.”
“Isabelle—”
She cut him off before he could say goodbye. “I missed you, too,” she said, the words running together in her rush to force them out.
Tom was just standing there, staring at her, and now she wanted to follow Bear from the room. Isabelle had let her friends get to her, and what did they know about any of this? She was all screwed up in a million ways, and she wasn’t sure about anything except that Tom must hate her. And she should hate him, shouldn’t she?
She stood and backed a few steps away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. Thank you for bringing my dad’s things.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“You were being nice, and I’ve made this weird.”
“Isabelle...” He looked so confused. As if he were dealing with a crazy person, and he couldn’t even grasp what she might mean. “You said you never wanted to see me again.”
“I know.”
“I would’ve called if I’d thought... I didn’t want to leave it that way. I just... I didn’t know we were saying goodbye. That’s not the way I would’ve said goodbye.”
She nodded, her chin bouncing up and down way too many times before she finally made herself be still. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t being rational. I was trying to hurt you. Or hurt us both. So this will be better. Saying goodbye like this.”
His forehead crumpled in a frown. Isabelle had no idea what her own face must look like. A little manic. A lot freaked out. She couldn’t tell him how much she still wanted him. She couldn’t watch him squirm and try to extricate himself from her inappropriate affections. She was a criminal. A fugitive. A liar. The kind of person he locked up every day.
“I wanted to call you,” he said. “Every day. Would you have talked to me if I had?”
“Not at first. At first I hated you.”
“And now?” He took a step toward her. She locked her legs so she wouldn’t turn and run.
“Now I think...” She had to swallow the emotion that clogged her throat. “I think I was just terrified. And I think I wanted you to find out about me.”
“What?” Another step closer.
Isabelle clasped her hands together and held tight. “You asked me why I slept with you, knowing you were a marshal. I asked myself the same question a thousand times, and the only thing that makes sense is that I wanted it over. I wanted out of the lie. And for some reason, I trusted you.”
He shook his head. “But you had a life. A good life. I screwed that up.”
“I know. But I wasn’t really free, was I? I couldn’t let myself fall in love. I couldn’t trust anyone.”
“And now?”
He’d gotten closer. She could reach out and touch him, but she wouldn’t. Her heart raced at the thought of it, but her hands gripped tighter together. She kept them snug against her stomach, protecting herself.
