Page 71 of The Wexley Inn
After Wade left, Thomas stood slowly. “What happened at the bank?”
“You tell me,” she said, crossing her arms. “You tell me what happened at the bank, Thomas.”
Understanding - and then guilt - flashed across his face. “Gerald told you about the loan guarantee.”
“Gerald told me, because apparently everyone knew except me, that you co-signed on my loan. That you’re personally liable for $350,000 if anything goes wrong. And that you did this two weeks ago without mentioning it to me once.” Her voice was rising despite her efforts to stay calm. “Did I miss that conversation, Thomas? Did I somehow forget discussing that you put your entire financial future at risk for my project?”
“Isabella, don’t?—”
She held up a hand. “Don’t you dare tell me you were protecting me. And don’t you dare tell me how you were helping me. Was I supposed to find this romantic?”
“I was helping. Grayson’s threats could have destroyed this whole project. The bank was panicking about timelines. My guarantee gave them confidence to maintain your original loan terms.”
“Instead of what? Instead of telling me what was happening so I could make my own decisions? Instead of treating me like a partner who deserved to know about major financial commitments made on my behalf?”
“Well, you were already stressed about the complaints. I didn’t want to add more burden.”
“Burden?” Isabella’s laugh was harsh. “You didn’t want to burden me with decisions about my own business? About my name? About financial risks that could ruin both of us?”
Thomas’s jaw tightened. “I had connections to solve the problem, and the bank trusts me. I’ve been doing business with them for years. My guarantee removed their objections. I did what needed to be done.”
“You did what you thought needed to be done, without asking me.” Isabella’s control was fracturing. “You made decisions for me instead of with me. You treated me like I wasn’t even capable of handling my own business.”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
“Then what were you doing, Thomas? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you went behind my back, used your connections to make guarantees that I never approved, and then hid it from me, because you assumed that I couldn’t handle the truth. And that is not a partnership. That’s not trust. That’s control, dressed up as protection.”
“Control? I was trying to help you.” His voice rose to match hers. Thomas hardly ever yelled. She couldn’t even remember a time she’d heard his voice raised this loud. “You called me terrified about Grayson’s threats. You asked for my help navigating the crazy island politics. I used my resources to solve the problem before it became a full-on crisis. How is that control?”
“Because you didn’t tell me what you were doing. You let me believe that you were making some phone calls and having some conversations. You never once mentioned you were going to put your own money on the line. You never gave me the option to say no. I don’t want you taking that risk for me. You decided, all on your own, what was best for both of us.”
“Because I love you.” The words erupted from him with raw emotion. “Because I couldn’t stand watching you struggle with something that I could easily fix. Because I have relationships and resources to protect what we’ve both built here, and I wasn’t going to let Grayson Williams destroy your dreams through harassment.”
“My dream. It’s my dream, Thomas, not ours. Mine. You don’t get to make decisions about it without my consent just because you love me. Love doesn’t give you the right to control my business or my finances or even my life.”
They stared at each other across the dining room. Thomas’s phone rang and Emma’s name flashed on the screen. He silenced it. It rang again immediately, Emma calling back.
“Answer it,” Isabella said coldly. “Maybe she knows something else about my life that I don’t.”
Thomas hesitated and then picked up. “Emma, this isn’t a good time…”
But Isabella could hear Emma’s voice, urgent and worried, cutting through the attempt to defer the conversation. Thomas’s expression shifted, looking at Isabella with something that seemed like dread.
“No, Emma, don’t—” He stopped, listened, and then slowly lowered the phone.
“What does Emma know that I don’t?” Isabella asked. “What does Emma know, Thomas?”
“She knows I co-signed your loan. I told her about it last week because?—”
“Because what? Because you needed to tell someone? Just not me? Not the person whose business you were making decisions about?” She felt hurt more than angry now. “You told your daughter, but not me. You told the bank, the county officials, you told everyone except the person most affected. Do you have any idea how that feels? To find out from my banker that my boyfriend secretly guaranteed my loan?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When? When were you going to tell me, Thomas? After the loan was paid off? After there was no more risk? Or were you going to keep it a secret forever and congratulate yourself on how well you protected me from knowing the truth?”
His phone rang again, and it was Emma calling back. This time he answered, voice tight. “Emma, I said I can’t talk right now.” But Isabella saw his expression change, saw guilt and conflict war across his features. “No, she doesn’t know about that either.”
The bottom fell out of Isabella’s world. “I don’t know about what. What else don’t I know?”
