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“You know I do, sweetheart,” he says. My head falls and I stare down at my hands. Why is this so hard? It shouldn’t be so hard.
Isaac lets out an exhausted sigh, and guilt hits me.
I’m sure he’s tired. Tired of this—of sneaking around and pretending like we’re nothing to each other in public and everything to each other in the dead of night, between the sheets. It kills me he won’t commit, but I understand why. I don’t blame him for being scared of the backlash. But a part of me wishes he’d take the risk.
That I was worth the risk.
Even if he says he can’t do it because of his status in the community, I have a feeling that things will work out. Eventually.
“It’s just two weeks,” he says, placing his hands on my shoulders. I nod, still keeping my gaze downcast. His fingers graze my jaw before gripping my chin. I finally force myself to peek up at him from under my lashes.
“I’m going to miss you,” I murmur, and he smiles softly.
“We’ve done this a million times,” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead with a light chuckle. “You’ve never missed me before.”
“I always miss you,” I defend. He huffs out a laugh before dropping his hands away. “You’re positive—”
“I tried to get out of it, but we need the extra money,” he says. My mouth snaps shut, and he clicks his tongue. “We’ve talked about this, sweetheart. Multiple times. I have to work. I have to.”
Truthfully, I’m not even sure what exactly he does at these conferences. But he makes a decent bit of money that we, and the church, desperately need.
So, I nod and force myself to suck it up. I can’t expect him to drop everything just because I’m afraid of being left alone with my stepbrother for a couple weeks.
Not afraid that he’ll hurt me, just afraid of…what am I afraid of?
It’s not like anything will happen. I can’t stand him, and he clearly hates me. Which begs the question: why is he here? Really?
He still hasn’t given us a reason for his return. A part of me is screaming to not look a gift horse in the mouth, to just accept and appreciate that he’s back. But a bigger part of me, the part that realizes he’s different, is telling me to kick him out. This isn’t his home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.
It hasn’t felt like my home either. Without him, this place was more of a time capsule, sitting stagnant in Mama and Roman’s memory.
“I’ll be home soon,” Isaac says, pulling my attention away from thoughts of his son. I swallow thickly and look up at him, nodding slightly.
“I know,” I say, forcing myself to smile again. I’m proud when my lip doesn’t wobble.
I want to ask him to define our relationship again, just one last time, before he leaves. But I don’t want to start a fight. I just hate that he’s leaving and he’ll be around other women, not that I think he’d do anything with them.
But what if Mary calls again? He won’t turn her away or ignore her calls. And if they really talk as often as she made it seem, then who knows if she’ll call him while he’s away?
Who am I kidding? Of course she will. She’ll probably call him while he’s on the road.
Jealousy is an ugly emotion, and it’s one Mama always told me to never feel. She knew how possessive I could get of things I loved and always taught me to share. It was to always share my toys, though. Never the man I was sleeping with.
What would she think if she were here?
She’d be disappointed. Would she hate me? Would she hate Isaac?
“I’ll be back soon,” he says, and I huff out a small breath.
“Drive safe,” I mutter. He kisses my cheek, and when he pulls away, I lean into him, silently begging for his lips. But he just steps back, moving to grab his bags off the table.
“Be good while I’m away,” he says tightly. “Don’t get into trouble with Olive again, and if he—” He cuts himself off, his face shifting to anger. “If he bothers you, call the police.” My eyes widen and I jerk forward a step.
“The police?” I breathe. “I wouldn’t call them on Roman.”
“If you have to—”
“We’ll be fine,” I say, shaking my head dismissively. “He’ll be fine.” His lips stay pressed into a firm line as he stares at me. “Isaac—”
