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“I started seeing a therapist right after Mom died. Apparently I was very at risk. That was the term they used. At risk.”
“Motherfuckers,” Hunter spat. “Your dad was okay with that?”
Isobel shrugged. She didn’t really remember a lot about Dad from that period. He worked a lot and she spent most of her time with the nanny and her therapist.
Isobel walked up the gazebo steps. Hunter hurried behind her and swiped a little dirt off the bench seat so they could sit down. It was easier, telling him all this in the dark where she didn’t have to look at his face.
“Anyway, a couple years later, he got remarried. A woman named Catrina. I didn’t get along with her very well. There were a few rough years.” She didn’t want to go into all that. It was hard enough to get this out as it was. She finally turned toward Hunter. “What I’m trying to get at with all this is that they were right. I did turn out just like my mom.”
“What are you saying?”
Isobel’s hands fidgeted in her lap. Then she took a deep breath. Now or never. “I tried to commit suicide when I was sixteen.” Isobel squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t bear to see if he cringed or pulled away from her. “It was right after I’d gotten out of a clinic for an eating disorder. I didn’t feel like being there had fixed anything and when I got home, things with my stepmom were harder than ever. So I swallowed some pills. A lot of p—”
She couldn’t even finish her sentence before one of Hunter’s arms went around her waist and the other pressed her head to his chest.
“Christ, Bel, I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.” He laid his cheek on her head.
The tears she’d been keeping back finally spilled over. She tried to pull away from Hunter but he just kept her pressed fast to his chest. Goddamn him. Didn’t he realize every second he held her meant it would hurt that much worse when he didn’t want her anymore?
“You’re not listening,” she said, pounding at him. “I’m trying to tell you how fucked up I am. My eating disorder relapsed just this summer after my dad died and—”
“Your dad just died?” Hunter finally pulled her back, only far enough so that he could look at her face.
She wiped furiously at her tears, hating that he was seeing her like this. “At the beginning of April. But Hunter, you’re missing the point. I’m—”
“You were grieving,” he said firmly. “Who wouldn’t be screwed up by that.” Then he cupped her cheeks, holding her face in a firm grip. “Do you still think about hurting yourself?”
“No.” The response was automatic. And true. “Even when it’s bad, I’ve never gone there again.”
Hunter nodded, then pulled her tight to him again. “Because you know, deep down, you deserve everything. A good, full life. You’re worthy, Isobel Bianca Snow. You’re beautiful and you deserve every good thing life has for you.”
How could he— Hadn’t he just heard what she’d—
She jerked violently away from him, shoving him back and stumbling to her feet. “I’m broken. I’m no good for someone like you. No matter how hard I try, it won’t make a difference. I’ll always end up back there.” She threw a hand behind her. “Don’t you get it? I’m terrified all the time. Why do you think I run so much?”
Isobel put her hands to her head and looked upwards at the dark gazebo ceiling. “Every day I see her there, hanging. God, it was so horrible. How could she do that?” Her voice was getting hysterical but she didn’t care. “How could she just leave me? Why didn’t she love me enough?”
“No, Isobel, don’t say that.” Hunter got to his feet and approached her but she held her hand out to stop him.
“It’s true. I wasn’t good enough for my own mother.”
“Christ, Bel. She was just sick, she didn’t—”
“Exactly.” She was crying so hard her tears nearly blinded her. “And I’m sick the same way. What if I did that to you? Or God forbid I ever…” Her hands went to her stomach. Oh God, she and Hunter hadn’t always been safe when they’d had sex… Wait no, she’d just had her period a couple weeks ago and they’d been using condoms since then. She dropped her hands and breathed out in relief.
But a man like Hunter deserved children. And she’d never trust herself around them. She sobbed so hard her chest hurt.
“Please let me hold you.” Hunter’s voice was ragged. “It’s killing me seeing you like this and not holding you.”
Isobel didn’t have anything left so she just shrugged. Hunter must have taken that as a yes because he dragged her against him. Then he sat down on the bench and pulled her into his lap, cradling her to his chest.
He rubbed her back and whispered soothing sounds in her ear. “Shhh, you’re going to be all right. It’s all going to be okay. I promise. Do you hear me, Bel? I swear we’re going to make it all turn out okay.”
Isobel just buried her face in his chest. She hadn’t even told him about Catrina or the real reason she’d come to Wyoming yet. She didn’t have the strength for it right now. His arms around her felt so good, so safe. When he said everything would be all right, stupidly, impossibly, she wanted to believe him.
She knew better. Lord above, she knew better. Good things didn’t last. She couldn’t shed her DNA like last winter’s coat. She couldn’t outrun it, no matter how hard she kept trying.
Her hands fisted in Hunter’s shirt as she tried to gather the strength to do the right thing—to push him away for his own good once and for all.
