Page 67 of Isabelle & Jason
“Worse?” Charlie asked. “What happened?”
“He broke up with me.”
Charlie gasped, her eyes flashing with ire. “You’re kidding.”
Isabelle shook her head. “And before you suggest that we sic your brothers or your husband on him, he was probably right.”
“What?” Charlie had been asking that question a lot. “What gives him the right to?—”
“He thinks that I’m digging a deeper hole. He wants me to call this therapist person.”
Charlie remained silent this time.
Isabelle wanted to scream. Heaven knew she wanted to blame him for the disaster she felt her life had become. But she couldn’t. Maybe it was the numbness she felt. Maybe it was the inkling of logic that remained in her heart. Or maybe it was the utter exhaustion.
Yeah, that was probably it.
She swallowed hard and stared at her friend, waiting, holding her breath. This was the point where Charlie might finally look at her differently—like a victim. Because that was what she was, right?
Her friend worried her lower lip. “You know who it is, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Isabelle said.
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. “He’s here. In Copper Creek.” Yet again, not a question. Charlie was too smart for her own good.
Isabelle nodded.
“Who?”
“Charlie—”
“Who is it, Izzie? You can’t just let this guy roam free when he had intent. Just because Jason stepped in doesn’t mean that this monster hasn’t followed through before or after.”
Isabelle blanched. What Charlie said made sense. The fact that he’d attempted it with her meant the probability was high that it wasn’t his first time.
“We should do something about it. I mean, it’s been a long time, so it might be difficult to do much more than report his behavior to his boss or the community, but still. Women should be warned.”
Why was it so hard for Isabelle to utter his name? Charlie had made several good points. This wasn’t about protecting him. This was to prevent it from happening again with someone else. What held her back?
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Dillan,” she whispered.
“Dillan?” Charlie repeated. “As in the new guy at the fire station?” The question was uttered with a gasp.
Isabelle nodded.
Charlie rose to her feet. “We have to tell Ash!”
“Charlie, no?—”
Her friend leveled her with a pointed stare. “Remember what I said. We can’t let him get away with it.”
The fear Isabelle had buried deep down flared to life and her breathing came in short spurts. “But what if people treat me differently?” There it was. The deep-seated worry that she’d be looked at as a victim. Or something worse.
“Isabelle,” Charlie whispered, dropping down in front of her. “No one is going to think that. You didn’t ask for him to violate you that way. But that doesn’t mean you’re the victim, either.”
“It doesn’t?” Isabelle hated the hope that tinged her voice.
“Of course not. You’re a survivor. Always have been. You just need to look at things from a different perspective.” Charlie made it sound so simple. Of course it wasn’t, but the way her friend was framing things made Isabelle believe that things could change. “I know it’s easier said than done, but what you really need to do is start living for you. Stop listening to the doubts in your head. Stop believing in the unknown assumptions you have about others. Find your happiness again. Seek joy.” She gave Isabelle a crooked smile.
