Page 23 of Rescuing Tobias

If she’d had any doubts that Becca taking Connor back was the best thing for both of them, then watching Connor dote on his fiancée would have erased them.

“Still,” she said as she put the roller back in the paint and resumed painting the nursery walls, “if I knew that the doctors knew whether I was having a boy or a girl, that the information was just sitting there in some file, no way would I be able to hold off finding out.”

Becca chuckled again. “I really just don’t care. The only thing I want in the whole wide world is for this baby to be born healthy.”

Hearing the pain and loss in her friend’s voice, Isabella set the roller down and crossed the room to wrap Becca in a hug. She’d been there in the aftermath of Becca’s miscarriage all those years ago. Held her friend while she sobbed over her loss,talked with her through her anger at Connor’s abandonment, and was with her every step of the way as she healed.

“Everything is going to go smoothly this time,” she said, praying she was right. “Everything is looking good, your OB-GYN is happy with how the baby is growing and developing, everything is normal, and there is nothing to indicate that’s going to change. Besides, with how good Connor is taking of you, I can't imagine anything going wrong. In just a few months, you're going to be holding your new little son or daughter in your arms, and they are going to love this nursery regardless of whether it’s a boy or a girl. I mean, who wouldn't love a woodland theme? I think it’s utterly adorable and I'm thirty-one.”

Hugging her hard, when Isabella pulled back, Becca glanced around the room. At the soft green walls they’d been busy painting, at the mural on one wall, with a giant tree, and a few woodland creatures gathered around it. At the crib under the window, the rocking chair in the corner, the toys and books already sitting on shelves, and the fear in her best friend’s eyes receded, replaced by pure joy.

“You're right, I know you are. There’s nothing to indicate this pregnancy will end the same way my last one did, I guess I just need to hear it said out loud a few more times before I’ll believe it.”

“Happy to say it as many times as you need me to,” Isabella assured her friend. After all that was the least she could do after Becca let her stay in the guest room for as long as she needed.

Cocking her head to the side, Becca studied her with the kind of probing glance that had Isabella squirming. She hated it when Becca looked at her like that, with such knowing eyes. While her friend had gone through her own trauma years ago in college, and then again when the village in Cambodia was raided, it wasn't the same. Most of that time, Becca had her supportsystem around her. She hadn't had to spend months on her own, unsure if she was going to live or die.

Not that she was downplaying what her best friend had lived through, Becca was a warrior and one of the strongest people Isabella had ever met. It was just that Becca could never really understand what it was like to be held captive for months with no end in sight.

“What do you need me to say to convince you that you're safe, that you don’t have to hide what you're feeling, that I'm there for you, that Connor is there for you, that his whole family is there for you? Whatever it is, Izzy, just tell me. I’ll say it to you, I’ll say it till you believe it, just tell me what you need from me, because whatever it is, I can tell I'm not giving it to you.”

“No, Becca. There’s nothing. You're doing more than anyone else would do in this situation. You're taking the time you should be basking in the joy of planning a wedding and preparing for a baby and putting it on me instead.”

“It’s not like that at all, Izzy. I want to be there for you. After I was raped, you were there for me every step of the way. And then after I found out I was pregnant and Connor bailed, you were my rock. You’ve always been there, always had my back, and knowing that you suffered through that hell because of me, because Connor came back for me and inadvertently brought trouble to our village, kills me.”

Isabella froze. Was that really how Becca felt? That she was to blame for what had happened so she had to be there to fix it? That she owed Isabella something just because she’d done what any friend would do and supported her through her trauma?

She suddenly felt like the world’s biggest burden and took a step back. It was one thing to feel guilty about ruining what should be the happiest time of her friend’s life when she thought her friend wanted to be there for her. It was another to realizethat your friend was only supporting you out of guilt and obligation.

“It’s not yours or Connor’s fault that I was taken. Yes, I understand they were there to cause trouble for him and for you, to get their hands on you, but that doesn’t make it either of your faults. And I didn't support you back then so you’d owe me.” Isabella was aware that she was likely being overly sensitive, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Her friend’s words had hurt, rubbed salt into the festering wound she already had because she felt bad about intruding in Becca’s life when she had other things she should be focusing on.

“Izzy.” Becca took a step forward, but Isabella took one back, needing a little space right now. Becca’s blue eyes widened, then filled with regret. “Whatever I said that upset you, I'm sorry. Iwantto be here for you, I don’t think I owe you anything, I just want to be there for my very best friend in the entire world. You're like my sister, Izzy, and you're hurting. You're barely eating, I know you hardly sleep, we hear you pacing around the house at all hours. You need help. More help than I can give you. Will you please consider speaking with a therapist?”

They’d talked about it before, but she’d always rejected the idea.

Of course, she’d had to talk through her entire ordeal with the agency that had originally started the investigation into the organ trafficking ring, but that was different, she’d been able to focus more on facts rather than her emotions.

Talking to a therapist would be different.

It would be all about emotions.

“I'm not ready to talk about it,” she said. She’d already told Becca a little of what had happened to her, but she’d also kept a lot of it to herself. Partly because she wasn't ready, and partly because she didn't want to bring up Becca’s own trauma since her friend had also been raped.

Taking a slow step toward her, Becca reached out tentatively, like one might to a spooked animal, and when Isabella didn't back away again, she grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I understand that, Izzy, but you need help. You're wasting away right in front of me, and I hate that I can't find a way to help.”

“Not your fault, Becca.” The only person to blame for her getting worse instead of better was herself.

“Please. I only just got you back, I don’t want to lose you again. Can you just think about it? Prey has people you can talk to, they’ll already know the details of what happened, so you won't have to talk about them until you're ready. You can go at your own pace, but you need something. Please, Izzy, promise me you’ll think about it.”

How could she deny her best friend that promise?

She couldn’t, and Becca knew it.

“I promise I’ll think about it. That’s the best I can give you right now.”

“It’s enough. Can I hug you, Izzy?”

Her earlier hurt about feeling like Becca was only helping her because of guilt and obligation had faded, and when she nodded, Becca immediately folded her into an embrace.

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