Page 56 of The Wexley Inn
They fell into comfortable conversation as the storm raged outside, talking about the renovation, all the upcoming tasks, and some of the island residents.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to thank you,” Isabella said during a lull in the conversation, “for dinner the other night with Emma. It was great to spend time together outside of work. I haven’t really done a lot of social things since I moved here, other than the Ladies Club, of course.”
“We enjoyed having you,” Thomas said sincerely, “and Emma was particularly pleased to share her marketing ideas with you. She’s so grateful that you’re supportive of her potential career change.”
“She really has a remarkable talent.”
“Well, that’s a nice thing to say,” Thomas said with a smile.
A comfortable silence fell between them, with just the drumming of the rain on the roof and occasional rumbles of thunder. Now more distant, as the storm started moving past the island.
“Can I ask you something?” Isabella said, “About the past?”
Thomas felt apprehension, sensing they were approaching territory they had so far avoided in their professional interactions. But maybe it was the isolation of the storm or the natural intimacy that had developed by sharing the emergency response - he felt like the question was going to be more inevitable than intrusive.
“Of course,” he said, as his heart rate accelerated.
Isabella sucked in a deep breath and then slowly blew it out before asking her question. “Why did you really end things between us?” Her gaze was steady despite the vulnerability in the question. “It’s been thirty years, and I’ve made peace with what happened, but I’ve never understood why one day we were planning our future together and the next you were gone. Did you think our relationship was a mistake or something?”
The question hung in the air between them. Thomas had known the moment might come and even tried to initiate the conversation himself - with Emma’s encouragement, of course - but now it had arrived, and he found himself struggling to find the right words.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “What we had was real and important. I loved you, Isabella. That was never the issue.”
“Then what was?”
Thomas took a deep breath. “Shortly after you left for your internship, my father's business collapsed completely. Bad investments, mounting debts - he was facing bankruptcy and potentially jail time." He paused, the shame still fresh after so many years. "I was desperate. I called Sarah's family because they had money and had once been fond of me."
He met Isabella's eyes. "They agreed to help, but only if I married Sarah immediately after graduation. It wasn't a loan, it was a transaction. My father's freedom in exchange for giving Sarah what she'd always wanted."
Understanding dawned in Isabella's expression. "They blackmailed you."
"I told myself I was being honorable, doing the right thing. But the truth is, I had no choice. It was marry Sarah or watch my father lose everything, and possibly his freedom. Sarah never even knew what her parents did.” His voice dropped. "Emma came a year later, and she's the only part of that choice I've never regretted."
"So you sacrificed everything - your dreams, our future - to save your father." Isabella's voice was steady, but her eyes welled. "That wasn't abandonment, Thomas. That was impossible circumstances and people who manipulated your honor against you." She was quiet for a long moment. "I spent thirty years thinking I hadn't been enough, that you'd realized you'd made a mistake with me. Knowing the truth doesn't erase those years, but it... It helps me understand we were victims of circumstances, not failures of the heart."
"I should have told you then," Thomas said. "Should have given you the choice to wait or to walk away knowing the truth. Instead, I chose for you."
"You were twenty-two and terrified," Isabella said gently. "I understand why you did what you did. I just wish..." She trailed off.
"Wish what?"
"That you'd trusted me enough to let me stand beside you through it. Even if the outcome had been the same. Thank you for trusting me with this now," Isabella said. Then, more quietly: "I need you to know I'm not that twenty-two-year-old girl anymore who needed protecting from hard truths. I've built my career on handling crises and making difficult decisions."
Thomas nodded, though something in her tone suggested a specific concern. "Of course. I see how capable you are every day with the inn."
But even as he said it, part of him wanted to shield her from the challenges ahead - Grayson's escalating pressure, the financial complexities, the island politics. Old protective instincts died hard.
“Does Emma know all of this?” Isabella asked, surprised.
“Yes. We discussed it during your first visit after you arrived on the island. She was curious about our history. She’s been not-so-subtly encouraging me to clear the air with you ever since.”
“Well, that explains a few things about her interest in our dinner together,” Isabella said, amusement passing across her face.
“She’s not exactly subtle in her matchmaking efforts,” Thomas agreed.
“You know, I appreciate your honesty now, even if it was long delayed,” Isabella said. “I understand why you made the choice you did. Emma is clearly the center of your world, and you’ve been an extraordinary father to her. I can’t imagine you being anything less.”
The generosity of her response, free from recrimination or bitterness, touched Thomas. “Thank you for that. It means more than I can express.”
