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She tugs on my sleeve. "Come on, everyone is so excited that you’re here. It’s the first time they get to meet you and Isla as husband and wife."
We step inside the room. My gaze instantly goes to Isla. She’s standing with her profile to me and is deep in conversation with my mother. Isla’s wearing a simple blue dress that reaches below her knees. On her feet are ballet pumps. I can see her gorgeous face in profile. The column of her neck, her tiny upturned nose, the angle of her eyebrows, the smooth curve of her head. She reminds me of a bust of Nefertiti I picked up on a trip to Egypt. Regal, alluring, and utterly captivating, she stands out in the room like a spotlight is focused on her.
I’m aware that the members of the Knitting Club seated on the couch ahead of Isla notice me and fall silent. The chatter in the room fades away.
I don’t realize I’ve come to a standstill until Nadine touches my shoulder. "Good luck. If any two people deserve each other, it’s the two of you." Then she steps away.
Isla glances around and notices everyone’s attention is focused beyond her. She turns, her gaze connects with mine, and everything else fades away.
It’s only me, and her, and the sound of my blood pounding in my ears. My throat is dry. In fact, my mouth feels like I haven’t had a drink of water in years. My heart rams into my ribcage like a lion pounding against the steel bars of a cage, fighting to get out. My knees knock together. I’ve never been this nervous in my life. Not even when I faced down my kidnapper. Not when I’ve sat in meetings where I’ve signed multibillion-dollar deals. Not even when I turned to find her walking up the aisle toward me. Somehow this… What’s happening between us now seems so much more real, more personal. More genuine than any other event in my life. Riskier than anything I’ve ever done before.
She rakes my features and her gaze widens. Her chin trembles. She shakes her head, then raises her palms over her mouth.
A teardrop sneaks down her cheek.
I blink, then force my legs to move until I pause in front of her.
She’s still staring at me, her gaze wide, her blue eyes anguished, her pupils so dark it’s like a full solar eclipse when the moon covers the sun.
With trembling fingers, I slide the ring out of my pocket, then I go down on one knee, right there in front of everyone assembled.
"Isla,” —I swallow— "will you marry me, this time for real?"
She shakes her head from side to side, her gaze still fixed on mine. "No," she chokes out the word. "No."
46
Isla
How could he do this to me? I can’t do this. I brush past Liam and out the living room, then through the kitchen and the backdoor to the yard beyond. I reach the grass and come to a stop. I stuff my knuckles in my mouth to stifle my sobs. I hear the backdoor close a second time, and then he’s there in front of me.
"LadyBird," —he grips my shoulders— "please, baby, don’t cry."
I only sob louder.
"Isla, please. Each tear of yours is like a hot knife being stabbed into my heart."
I try to pull away, but his grip tightens. He pulls me close, and I bury my face in his chest. He holds me. He wraps his big arms about me and holds me tightly… And it feels so right, and that only makes me cry even more.
He scoops me up in his arms and carries me over to the swing on the porch. He sits down with me in his lap and begins to rock me.
My tears finally slow down. I keep my fingers entangled in the front of his shirt, press my cheek into the solid warmth of his chest, and stay there.
He rubs circles over my back and the action is so soothing, so… Everything. The tension slowly fades from my shoulders. I rub my nose against the collar of his shirt and inhale his scent. The familiarity of him cocoons me; the heat of his body surrounds me. We stay there, not saying anything, and in the silence, I hear the thump-thump-thump of his heart. It echoes the pulse at my wrists, the thrum of blood at my temples, the beat of my own heart behind my rib cage. When I finally sit up, he releases me. I tip my chin up, and run my palm up his face and over his head. His very bald head.
"Liam, all that beautiful hair of yours…" A fresh sob bubbles up my throat.
"I wanted to know."
He holds my gaze and in his eyes, I see the pride, the respect, the empathy… The love. He doesn’t need to say those three words. I just know.
"You didn’t need to," I choke out.
"But I had to." He lowers his head and bumps my nose with his. "How could I let you go through this alone, Isla? How could I possibly allow you to face the world on your own? I needed to understand how it felt, even if for just a short time. I needed to feel a fraction of the kind of pain you’re going through."
A warm sensation pools in my chest. It bleeds into my veins, permeates my cells, and extends to my extremities until every part of me seems to be overrun with that melting feeling.
"Liam, I—"
