Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(79)

“Both of those things are true, but—”

I’m on my feet, furious. With him. With myself. I’m an idiot.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

I whip around. My shaky finger points down at his shocked face. “This is what happens when you love people. They leave.”

Isaac stands quickly, knocking me off balance. He grabs my arms above each elbow, catching me. He’s in my face, and the shadows make it so that I can barely see his features. His nose presses to mine.

“I turned it down, Aubrey.”

Turned it down.

Turned. It. Down.

The words penetrate, and my anger slides away. What replaces it is no better. “For Claire?” My voice is tiny. For me, I think. Say you did it for me.

“Yes,” he breathes. And although I love how much he loves our daughter, there was a part of me that thought maybe he loved me too. But that was foolish. Isaac and I are a collection of hours. And the very best one was the first hour we spent together.

“I understand,” I whisper. And I do. I really do.

I try to smile, but it feels funny on my face, and I’m certain it looks even more painful to him.

“Aubrey, why aren’t you happier?”

The tears show up out of nowhere, and it’s mortifying. I hate crying. I just have to hope the darkness from the tree keeps them hidden.

“I’m very happy. Claire would be devastated if you moved away.” And me too. But I don’t say that. Especially not now.

“And you?” Isaac tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Would you miss me too? Or would you—” He stops. His hands have come to my face, and my tears have been discovered. “Are you crying?” He pulls me away from the tree so I’m facing the faint light from the building. His big brown eyes pour into mine. “Aubrey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.” His fingers flick the tears off my face, and now there are new ones to replace those and I’m so embarrassed I wish I could run away, but that would only make this worse.

“I’m very happy you’re sticking around for Claire.” I smile through the taste of salt on my lips. “It’s important. A girl’s dad should be her hero.” That’s something I know all about.

“I agree. But it’s not only Claire I’m staying here for.”

My breath catches. “No?”

One side of his mouth turns up. He shakes his head. “I met this woman once, a long time ago. For a while I thought maybe she was just a figment of my imagination. An hour of time I made up. But then one day she appeared out of nowhere. She came, and she brought more than just herself. A piece of me was with her. She’d kept it safe for all those years we were apart.” His hand slides to the back of my neck, where his fingers curl through my hair. “She brought me a hand that needs holding. A heart that needs to be loved. And a body that needs to be touched. And I want to do all those things for her. Forever.”

He leans further toward me, softly kissing the corner of my lips. My exhale is thick. I turn my head, crushing his lips with my own. I’ve heard his words. Like a spear, they’ve sliced through layers of hurts, past the lies I’ve told myself, and reached their target.

He grabs my waist, pulling me against him. I feel his need, his desire, his love. We fit together. There have never been two bodies more meant to become one. Which makes this so much more painful.

Isaac cannot fix me. I am not a body with a broken bone. Tools cannot mend me.

My reaction when I thought he was going to take that job… It tells me just what I’ve been too blind to see. For years I’ve been living with a battered and bloodied Band-Aid over my heart, ignoring the pain and hoping the decrepit bandage would keep the pieces together. But it’s not my heart that’s the problem.

I’m a soul with a wound.

And that wound needs to be healed. It needs to be loved, and cared for, and given the attention it has long been neglected.

I push Isaac away. It takes all the strength I have. I could stay in his arms, and let it happen. It would be so easy.

But I can’t. If I know anything about old wounds, it’s that they do not go away. They fester and resurface until their infection is systemic. I have to stop that from happening. If Isaac and I can have a future, I have to confront my past. Claire and Isaac deserve that.

“Isaac,” I say, the tears dripping from my chin, “I need to go. I need to see…her.”

He reaches for me, but there’s already too much space between us. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” I shake my head, taking another step back. “I need to do this alone.”

“You’re not alone anymore, Aubrey. Let me be there for you. Let me take care of you.”

“I’m fine,” I say out of habit. My fingers hit my lips as I realize what I’ve said.

Isaac’s eyes challenge me.

“Give Claire a kiss for me.” I choke out the words. “I’ll see you both soon.”

“You’re going now?”

I’ve been suffering from this wound for eighteen years, but suddenly waiting even one more second to heal it seems inconceivable.

“I can't stand it anymore, Isaac. I have to figure this out. I have to end it.”