Page 129 of The Prodigal Son

Immediately, I’m assaulted by guilt for what I put him through today—or yesterday, or whenever it was. I hate that he had to endure that, not only finding me in that state but for almost losing me. I can’t explain or even fathom why I did what I did right now, but I know the reasons are buried deep within me. Seeing Derek triggered me in a way I can’t explain away.

I won’t put Isaac through this again. Which means I have a long road ahead of me.

I clear my throat, and he immediately stirs. Pulling his legs down from the couch, he lifts his cowboy hat and stares at me across the room. His eyes grow misty at once.

Then he’s rushing toward me to stand by my side.

“You’re awake,” he cries quietly as he holds my hand.

My mouth opens to utter something trivial, but I can’t find the ability to speak. There is too much to say. Instead, my eyes sting and moisten. Just staring at him, I try to convey every unspeakable thing I’m feeling.

He nods as if he can read my mind. As if he knows every little thing I want to say without me having to actually say it.

Then he launches himself at me until his face is in my neck and I can lift my heavy arms to hold him.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble as tears leak from my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Isaac.”

“That was the scariest moment of my life,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Words evade me. They’re just not enough.

I’m sorry is just two words. Three syllables. Seven letters. It will never be enough to convey this feeling in my chest. It couldn’t possibly express the different shades of remorse I need it to.

After a moment, Isaac pulls away and stares down at me. He has dark circles under his swollen eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days and has been to hell and back.

“Isaac, listen to me,” I say, gripping his hand tight in mine.

“Please don’t,” he says, stopping me. Then, to my surprise, he climbs onto the hospital bed so he’s seated next to me. “Whatever you’re going through, I understand it’s a lot, but please, please, please don’t push me away again. Let me be here for you.”

Suddenly, I wish the physical pain were worse to distract me from how much it hurts to see that look on his face.

I try to sit upright and pull him closer. Touching his face, I swallow down the emotion building in my throat.

“I’m not pushing you away,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for doing that to you.”

“Then help me understand,” he begs. “Open up, Jensen. Tell me what happened.”

Opening up isn’t something I do easily. There is too much darkness hidden behind the fake smiles and confident facade, but I know Isaac is right. If I want to keep him, then I have to let him see everything that I am.

So I tell him everything. From the visit with Derek to the terrible things he said to me. The accusations. The blackmail. The slimy way he weaseled into my subconscious and knew all the right buttons to push.

I even confessed to going to Eternal Harmony four years ago. Donating church funds. Speaking at their conference.

I’m not proud and I expect him to walk out the door, but he doesn’t. He touches my face and sees the good in my soul, latching on to it like a raft out in a dark, endless sea.

“I’m so sorry he did that too, but he was wrong, Jensen. He can’t hurt you. Not really.”

“Yes, he can,” I argue. “He can hurtyou. And nothing would devastate me more.”

“Can he tear us apart? Can he take away the one person in my life who understands me? Can you honestly say thatone fucking guycan break us up?”

My brow furrows as I stare up at him. “No, of course not.”

Isaac leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. “Then he can’t hurt me. Not really. My job is just a job. Your job is just a job. But this…” He looks down at our clasped hands. And I see what he sees. Love. Family. Forever. “This is all that matters to me.”

My throat stings worse now, but for different reasons. Latching a hand around his neck, I pull him against me, wrapping him up as tightly as I can.

“I love you,” I whisper.

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