Page 100 of Dust to Dust

“Maybe not physically.”

“It’s okay.”

Isla stared intently into my eyes. “One day will you tell me about what happened?” she questioned softly.

“I’ve never talked about that night to anyone.”

Her eyes widened. “Never?”

With a shake of my head, I replied, “When I was recovering in the hospital, many psychologists tried to get me to open up, but I refused. There’s been times I know my brothers have wanted to ask me questions, but they never have. The only one who has ever come close to getting me to talk was my sister, Maeve.”

“What was it about her that made you want to open up?”

Maeve’s haunted eyes in the hospital after her rape flashed in my mind. Even though our trauma was very different, our pain bonded us. She’d also refused to talk to anyone about what had happened. We still hadn’t heard the story in her words. Kellan and Eamon had said little as well.

“She experienced a horrible incident. I thought we could share our pain, but neither one of us was ready to be that vulnerable,” I finally replied.

Isla pressed a tender kiss to my scar. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to tell me.”

I drew in a ragged breath. In my mind, I felt like I was racing towards the edge of a cliff. In the past, I’d always skidded to a stop at the edge, but tonight…tonight I was ready to leap and free fall. “No. I want to tell you.”

“You do?”

“Aye.”

“Why me?” Isla questioned softly.

I brushed the long strands of hair from her beautiful face. “I just fucked you bare. I should do the same with my emotions. There shouldn’t be anything between us.”

“But I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“You won’t.”

And I knew she wouldn’t. It was time to unburden myself of the horrors I’d experienced that night. With Isla, I knew I’d chosen the perfect person. She wouldn’t judge me or think less of me as a man. There was only care and concern radiating from her eyes.

After sucking in an anguished breath, the words I’d kept wrapped so tightly within me began to flow. The longer I spoke those tightly woven threads of anguish, grief, and guilt unfurled.

As Isla listened, she remained so still to where she could’ve been a statue. The only movement in her came with her tears. They started flowing almost as fast as my words. Their salty sorrow dripped onto my chest.

When I finally finished, Isla threw her arms around me. Although I knew she wanted to comfort me, her little body shook so hard I wrapped her in my arms to soothe her.

“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry,” she murmured against the scarred flesh of my neck.

Normally I loathed that word in relation to my scars. I despised any kind of pity. But not from Isla.

“Shh, don’t weep, Little Dove.”

My words only caused her to sob harder. “Isla, don’t waste your tears on me.”

She sniffled as she pulled her face from my neck. Staring up at me, she said, “My father used to say that with each tear we shed for someone’s suffering, it eases their pain.” She cupped my cheek. “I would cry an entire ocean for you.”

Her words caused a shudder to ripple through me. After the bombing, I’d never thought I would find a woman I could love, but in the short amount of time I’d come to know Isla, I knew I could love her.

That I already loved her.

But she couldn't know that yet. It was too soon. It made no sense. We hadn’t known each other long enough.

“Tá mo chroí istigh ionat,” I murmured as I stared into her eyes.

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