Hunter had to strain to get the next words out. It was the worst bit of all—the part that kept him up at night torturing himself. “But from the time of night and the angle of her car—” His voice broke but he shook himself, determined to tell Isobel everything.
“She wasn’t leaving town. It was right before dawn. She’d driven about two hours away and had turned around. She was coming back. For me. She left because of me and came back because of me. She died because of me.”
Isobel’s hands went to his face. “No, Hunter, no, that’s not true—”
“I know,” he nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”
“Do you?” Her eyes searched his.
He huffed out a short, slightly bitter laugh. “Knowing in here,” he tapped his head, “and believing in here,” he put a hand to his chest, “are two different things.”
He breathed out, feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. “But I’m glad you know now. After Janine…” He shook his head. “I didn’t think I could ever feel that way again. That I’d ever want to.”
He reached up and covered one of her hands on his cheek. “But then you came to town. Even after that first night, I was already feeling so much for you. I’d been a dead man walking for a year and then—” He looked her in the eye. “It scared the shit out of me. You scared the shit out of me.”
Isobel smiled, her eyes full. She flipped his hand so she could kiss his palm.
“But I’m not scared anymore.” He moved back but still held her hands tight. “Bel, I love you. I can’t lose you. It’ll be August in a couple more weeks. I told myself not to think about the future, to just take this one day at a time. But dammit, Bel, I can’t do that anymore.”
“Because I want a future with you. I want it all. I want to wake up with you every morning and have babies with you and grow old together. I won’t make the same mistake twice. We can live wherever you want to. Whatever will make you happy. As long as it’s together.”
And then he dropped to one knee. “Isobel Bianca Snow, will you marry me?”
Chapter 22
ISOBEL
“No!” Isobel jerked her hand away from his. She didn’t mean to. It was just automatic.
But God, everything he’d just said, God. Growing old with her? Babies?
He had no idea. This man who’d already been so broken by the last woman he’d loved. He had no idea about her.
She saw the devastation hit his face at her rejection.
“Hunter, you don’t—” She scrambled for words to make him understand. The last month had been the happiest of her life. Of course she wanted a future with him.
But that didn’t mean it was something she had to give. God, look how obsessive she’d gotten after seeing the picture of his wife. All the old thoughts and insecurities had come roaring back in spite of the progress she thought she’d made since coming here.
She hadn’t even meant to snoop. She’d just opened up the glove compartment and found the picture frame, face down.
As soon as Isobel flipped it over, all the air had swooped out of her chest.
In the picture, Hunter stood side by side with a gorgeous, petite blonde. Isobel’s eyes had immediately zeroed in on the woman. She had such a tiny waist. Like impossibly tiny. Barbie tiny. And her clavicles. They were sharp, jutting out just like the models in magazines did. In fact, the woman might have well been a model.
The Hunter in the picture looked at the woman like she was his sun and moon and stars.
Like she was his life.
And Isobel’s head had immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusions. Which was why she had to refuse his ridiculous proposal.
Didn’t he see how screwed up she was? How crazy?
The furrow in Hunter’s brow moved from pained to confused. But God, how did she even begin to explain? Apparently he was running out of patience, though.
“Talk,” Hunter demanded. “Tell me why we can’t have a future together. Do you not feel the same way about me? I know this is fast.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I can slow down. Shit. I’m sorry. We can—”
“Hunter,” she cut him off, pained. “Stop. There are things you don’t know about me. About my past.” She looked down at the sidewalk. “And my family.”