Page 316 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
He gave me a stern look, impressing me with his gall. Most men quiver in their boots at the sight of me, but he stood his ground, determined to protect his mother from the stranger lurking in her kitchen.
“Isaac.” I offered him my hand to shake.
His stern scowl deepened before he accepted my offer. “Bobby.”
When he moved to the fridge to remove a carton of orange juice, Ophelia glided past me to aid him with filling a plastic cup before giving him two cookies out of a jar on the counter. Even though her composure didn’t allude to any discomfort, the tremor of her hands conveyed her deceit.
“You can take your snack to your room, Bobby, and watch some TV.”
Bobby stared at his mom, seemingly confused before he shrugged his shoulders and ambled into the hallway. Once he was no longer in earshot, I questioned, “You named him after your brother?”
When she nodded, my throat worked hard to swallow the lump formed there. “How did you hear about Roberto’s death if you have no connection to your previous life?”
“My husband was in law enforcement.” She cringes. “Isin law enforcement.”
My eyes shot down to her left hand, even knowing it was void of a wedding band as it was the first finger my eyes zoomed in on when she enclosed her hand around mine.
“We're separated.” Her right hand covered the missing ring on her left hand.
I jerked my head to the hallway Bobby walked down minutes ago. “Is he my son?” My tone was calm, even though I was anything but.
Ophelia’s eyes glossed over, but she held my gaze. “No. Bobby is only five. He's just tall for his age.”
An entanglement of emotions hit me at once. Relief. Unease. It all hit me. “I want a DNA test.”
Ophelia’s eyes darted between mine. Her lips moved, but no words came out of her mouth.
“You deceived me for years, so you can’t expect me just to take your word that he isn’t mine. That would be ludicrous.” My tone came out harsher than I anticipated.
My breath hitched when the image that had been haunting my dreams for the past six years emerged in front of my eyes. Ophelia was crying.
I seized her wrist and pulled her into my chest. Her sobs were quiet, but the dampness on my shirt was all the indication I needed to know she was still upset. My heart pummeled my chest for every silent tear that escaped her eyes.
I don’t know how long we stayed standing in the kitchen, huddled together, before she mumbled into my chest, “Bobby’s dad was the FBI agent assigned to my case when I moved here.” Her head popped off my chest to peer up at me. “Because Tobias was still undercover, he assigned a rookie agent fresh from the academy to my case. It was a real love-hate relationship from the get-go, but as the months went on, our relationship blossomed into something magical.”
“Then why aren’t you together now?”
Her gaze drifted down to my chest. “Because he wanted more than half a heart. He knew part of my heart still belonged to you.”
She cupped my jaw, her eyes darting between mine, appearing just as surprised as I was that we were standing across from each other, cuddled together. She was so close, her tea-scented breath was fanning my lips.
“It still belongs to you.”
Her eyes gleamed before she balanced on her tippy toes to seal her lips over mine. Her tongue stroked my lips before she plunged it into my mouth. My hand slithered up her back, pulling her closer before I weaved my hand through her hair to deepen our kiss. My mouth trapped the soft purrs that rumbled up her throat when I gripped her thighs to guide her legs around my waist.
With our lips attached, I paced toward the wooden table to lay her on top of it. When my eyes opened, I took a step back, startled when her light brown eyes peered up at me. Her breasts were thrusting up and down, and the golden highlights in her hair glistened in the morning sun streaming through the window. She was undeniably beautiful, but nothing could stop me from taking another step back.
I took another, and another, and another until I was back onto the footpath where our reunion commenced.
I tilt closer to Isabelle, so close I can feel her blood pumping through her body. “I thought I wasn’t remembering her right, that my memories had failed me, but it wasn’t that,” I mutter into Isabelle’s ear. “When I was looking at her, all I could see was you. I was comparing her to you.”
Before Isabelle came into my life, all I could see in the women I liaised with was Ophelia. I constantly compared them to her, judging them on how closely they resembled her, and what she had that they lacked. It was only when my gaze was roaming over Ophelia on the dining room table did I realize her eyes hadn’t changed color, the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips hadn’t shrunk. She just lacked Isabelle’s seductive curves, dark, straight locks, and big beautiful chocolate eyes. Although Ophelia was as beautiful as I remembered, she wasn’t Isabelle.
She wasn’t mine.
I’ve always said my feelings for Isabelle are prodigious and unexplainable. On the flight back to Ravenshoe, I realized why that is. I can’t explain my feelings for Isabelle because I’ve never experienced them before. I was twenty when I began dating Ophelia. Our entire relationship was based on the thrill of the chase and what adventures we could undertake instead of establishing a proper long-term connection. We dated for months and never said those three little words to each other—not until the night of the fight. We could go days without seeing each other, and neither of us were bothered—it just seemed natural. But Isabelle is on my mind all the time. Every minute that she isn’t with me, she invades my thoughts.
When Ophelia died, the guilt of her death clouded my perception of love even more. Although I loved Ophelia, only now do I realize it was more a fascination based on lust. It was nothing compared to the feelings I have for Isabelle.
