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“Okay.”
She swallowed her apology when she heard him turn to go.
She’d hurt him. She knew she had.
But some of her wounds were still raw and tender, even after all this time.
Rubbing the heel of her hand over the ache in her chest, she wondered what in the hell she was doing, staying in such close proximity to the man who’d devastated her so thoroughly years ago.
But she already knew the answer.
She still loved him. She’d never stopped.
Somewhere deep inside, she must have always been hoping they’d have a chance, even though she’d pushed him away the one time they’d seen each other after everything fell apart.
Maybe she was a fool.
Chapter 13
At just a little beforeeleven, Isabel stood in the doorway of the kitchen and studied the dishes still piled in the sink.
“Want me to help?”
She looked over at Storm, shook her head with a smile. “I’ll take care of them.”
“I don’t mind.”
“You helped cook. I’ll get this.” She wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulders, hugged. “Go on. I’m sure you’ve got a book you’re trying to finish reading before you get too tired to see straight.”
The pretty girl made a face at Isabel. “Like you can talk.”
“Yeah, but I’m not starting school in another week.”
“You still get up with us.” Storm kissed her on the cheek. “But since I don’t love dishes, I won’t argue with you.”
Isabel hated dishes herself, but for the most part, the kids in the house were pretty decent about cleaning up after dinner, scraping off the excess food, rinsing the plates off and loading the dishes up. It only left Isabel with the dishes used to cook, and those dirtied up by Jacob, Brooklyn and Mariah. Brooklynwastrying to get better, but she was only five—and she couldn’t see inside the sink to rinse her dishes off.
