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“I think you’re making a big mistake,” he said.
“Breaking up with you?”
“Yes! You’re trading a physician who could give you a great life, everything you could ask for, for an ex-con who probably doesn’t have two nickels to his name. He has no family to speak of, either—just a history of violence. Do you really want to tie your future to his? He can’t take care of you like I can!”
What Bo had been through was terrible, and he probably had some deep scars that would inform his worldview. But maybe his past had taught him a few good things, too—made him humble and kind and more aware of what really mattered in life. Maybe, unlike Remy, he wouldn’t take so much for granted. At least he seemed capable of true feeling. With Remy, she’d never connected on a deep level, not like she had with Bo, especially when they were making love. Bo had made her feel that those moments were precious beyond measure.
Bottom line, Bo made her feel valued, and she wasn’t sure any feeling could be better than that. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me, Remy. I’m an attorney. I’ll be fine. And you’re not so innocent yourself.”
Remy stiffened. “What are you talking about?”
“Your affair with Sam, your so-called study partner, for one. The underwear in that duffel bag in the wall of your closet for another. And the cheap jewelry. Where did all that come from?”
His eyes began to glitter—with anger, she supposed. He wasn’t used to anyone calling him out on anything, especially her. She typically did what she could to avoid a fight, because he was always willing to go further than she was. “I still can’t believe you didn’t ask me about it,” he said. “That you took it to Bo instead?”
“I was pretty freaked out. I still am.”
“I had nothing to do with that,” he said. “Until you mentioned it, I had no idea it even existed!”
“It’s gone missing, so I figured it had to be Bastian’s, especially because a pair of my underwear suddenly went missing, too. Only he could’ve taken that stuff. But now that I think about it, maybe he took my underwear to upset me or scare me. Lord knows he likes to get under people’s skin. It’s possible he was even imitating you. But I don’t think he’d leave that bag in your room. Why would he leave it outside his control? And it was withyournotebook. So what’d you do—tell him to get it for you?”
“I didn’t tell him anything.” He whipped around to face his brother. “Did you put that stuff there?”
Uncertainty flashed across Bastian’s face. He looked cornered, frantic. But he quickly masked those emotions. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted.
“Youhaveto know.” Jack joined the conversation even though he’d been making an effort to stay out of it. “You’re the only one who could’ve taken it—and Ismay’s underwear.”
“It wasn’t me,” he said. “I didn’t take either one!”
Remy’s eyes narrowed. “Bastian, if you’re up to your old tricks—”
“Stop it!” Bastian broke in. “Shut up, or you’ll be sorry!”
Ismay didn’t know what that meant. Was she wrong? Did those things belong to Bastian or Remy? “One of you is very sick,” she said. “You should seek help.”
“It’s not me,” Remy said emphatically. “According to my mother, you’re willing to believe Bo didn’t murder his father, even though he was convicted of it and served time, and yet you won’t believe I didn’t stick a duffel bag of underwear in my closet?”
Ismay rubbed her forehead. She couldn’t say who had done what. But she knew one thing. Bo was the man she wanted. “Forget it,” she said. “This isn’t even about that.”
“Then what’s it about?” he asked. “Why have you broken off our engagement?”
The memories of everything they’d shared over the past three years flashed through her mind as she looked at him. A certain nostalgia came with it. They’d had good times and bad. But when she thought of going back to Remy—she knew that wasn’t the path she wanted to take. “Because I’m in love with someone else,” she replied.
He looked like she’d slapped him. “You’ve only been here a short time!”
She got the keys to the truck from the kitchen counter and gave them to him. “I know,” she said. “I can’t explain it. But I can’t deny it, either.”
“You’re making a big mistake. Huge!” he snapped and might have pushed her on his way out if Jack hadn’t yanked her to one side. “This isn’t over,” he added.
Bastian looked surprisingly rattled as he followed his brother outside. “This isn’t going to end well,” he muttered.
“All you have to do is leave us alone, and it’ll end fine,” Jack called after them. But they didn’t respond. They didn’t bother to shut the door, either, so Ismay could hear both engines when they flared to life and reached the front stoop in time to see Remy squeal the tires of the Jeep as he backed out of the drive and went flying down the road.
When his phone dinged, Bo glanced down to see Ismay’s name pop up with a message. But he didn’t dare read it. He couldn’t take having her turn on him, making him feel the way Matilda had made him feel fourteen years ago, as if he had no chance of being heard, let alone believed.
When Ismay didn’t respond to him the day he was fired, he almost blocked her—not because he didn’t want to hear from her but because he was afraid he’d never hear from her again. If he blocked her, he’d never have to know. He thought it might be easier that way.
But he couldn’t bring himself to go through with it, couldn’t quite extinguish the hope that he might’ve established enough credibility with her that she’d give him a chance to explain.
