“Laughter and smiling are emotions.”
“And?”
“I don’tdoemotions.”
She started to retrieve her hand, but he placed his own down on hers and held it against his skin, craving the connection, knowing he would have to have that connection, her strength, to have this conversation.
“But...why? Why in the world would you do that to yourself?” She was honestly confused, didn’t understand what would warrant exiling one’s self from joy.
“I killed my middle brother. He died right in front of me.” The confession spilled out of him without his consent, as if he’d been bound to tell her and suffer the consequences. And maybe he was.
“H-how did you kill him, exactly?” She took a deep breath, visibly slowing herself down as she controlled the exhale. “What happened?”
Isaac cursed his subconscious choice of words, no matter their accuracy. He’d scared her, and he was an ass for doing so. Even if what he’d spoken was the truth.
“I was home from college for spring break. New York had seen a lot of rain, so the creeks and rivers were swollen. I loved the outdoors, loved hiking, camping, rock climbing.” He swallowed again, fear making the action painful. “Kayaking. I wanted to run the rapids on a local river, and Mike asked if he could go with me.” He paused, and she waited in silence, seeming to understand he could only tell the story in fits and starts.
“Mike wasn’t as strong a kayaker, didn’t have the experience I had, and he was a little nervous, but I told him he could come along. I said we’d use the tandem kayak—one made for two people—and I’d let him lead or sit in front. I’d be there to—to...” Looking up at the ceiling, Isaac took a moment to slow down, counting backward from twenty to zero, inhaling and holding his breath for a count of eight and releasing it on a count of ten.
“Short version of the story is that the kayak flipped. I got out and he got trapped in the rapids, upside down, the kayak stuck against a boulder. I couldn’t get to him to flip the kayak and he didn’t have the skill to do it. I watched him drown. I stood there as he died because I wanted to conquer the rapids. I was arrogant, Rachel. I knew he wasn’t experienced enough, but I was certain—so damncertain—that I was better, stronger, more capable of overcoming anything that came up. It never occurred to me that he could die. But he did. Mike died because I didn’t keep my promise. I didn’t keep him safe. I lost control of the situation, and he died.”
Rachel sat perfectly still, unspeaking, for several moments as Isaac fought the rising panic that he had kept at bay for so many years. No more. It all came rushing in. Right here. Right now. He would suffer, would lose any hope he had with this woman, and he would accept that. It was just one more penance he would pay for taking his brother’s life.
She started to speak, then stopped, and Isaac saw it for what it was.
The end.
Rachel had to choose her words carefully or risk alienating Isaac forever. He hadn’t killed his brother, but that wasn’t what he’d spent a lifetime telling himself. He believed he was responsible, and that had shaped the man he had become and the burdens he had carried since the tragic loss. Giving in to her urge to pull him close and cuddle him would only drive a wedge between them. After all, he had flat-out told her he didn’t “do” emotions.
Caution. She had to proceed with caution.
She must have taken too long because Isaac started to move away from her.
Reaching out, she grabbed his hand and yanked. Hard. Hard enough to spin him around and force him to face her. “Don’t walk out on this, Isaac.”
“Don’t pretend to understand.”
“I’m not pretending anything.” She refused to let go of his hand, knowing there was no way he’d physically shake her off. Even angry or hurt, he wasn’t that man.
“Please sit down and talk to me, Isaac. I want to be clear about a couple of things.”
He sank down on the very edge of the mattress, as far away as he could be and still hold her hand. The choice wasn’t lost on her, even though she was relatively sure he didn’t realize what he’d done.
Rachel closed the distance between them, tightening her grip on his hand when he tried to retrieve it. “I haven’t asked for much, Isaac, but I’m asking you for this. I need you to listen to me. Please.”
Isaac eyed her with something far too close to distrust for her liking, but it wasn’t enough to deter her.
“I know you think you killed your brother.”
“I did.”
“No. Your brother drowned.”
“Under my care.”
“Yes.”
Her agreement stunned him into silence. If that’s what it would take, fine. She’d run with it.