Page 10 of Isabelle & Jason
And this morning was not one of them.
She might as well toss the covers aside, get up, and ease the tension that hadn’t left her body since that fateful morning in the hospital.
Five years.
Five years and she was still just as broken.
Five years and there was no end in sight for her suffering.
A dull ache settled in her upper arms, where she’d been gripped hard.
That happened occasionally when her brain wasn’t willing to make sense of her memories of the night in question and the injuries she woke up with. They were phantom pains. At least that was what she chose to call them.
Phantom because if she hadn’t seen the bruises with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed what had happened to her in the first place.
Isabelle huffed a breath and groaned as she tossed her covers aside.
How much longer did her psyche need to finally accept that there was no changing the past and that the only option for her was moving forward?
She grabbed her tennis shoes and pulled them on. Then she yanked her brother’s hoodie from the spot on the floor next to the door. No one would be up right now. Just like most nights when she couldn’t sleep, Isabelle went for a run. It didn’t matter if it was one or three in the morning. She’d rather push her body to the limit than lie in her bed going over that night again and again.
Her memories were so spotty. There had to be more to it—a sign that something was off about her date. How could she have been so blind?
Once outside, Isabelle’s feet hit the ground with a quiet thud, and she took off running.
Steering clear of men had been no small feat. She’d managed to never be alone with a guy, except recently. Camilla’s fiancé, Dallas, had been an exception. There was something about him that she knew she could trust. Maybe it was his obsession with Camilla. That didn’t mean she’d been comfortable with him. She’d put on a brave face to confront him, for Camilla’s sake.
Camilla’s friend had sabotaged everything in her life, and for once, Camilla deserved happiness. So Isabelle had stepped in.
Sweat beaded on Isabelle’s brow as she darted up the trail and around the wranglers’ cabin toward the trails. It was dark, calm. Out here when there weren’t any other people, she could finally breathe and pretend that everything was different.
She was a cloud, floating aimlessly in the sky with nothing and no one to tether her to the ground.
Her legs propelled her forward as she continued her run. Heavy panting filled the air as she continued to push herself all for that little bit of relief. She needed this—the exhaustion, the numb tingling sensation that came with exerting herself. If she couldn’t force herself to remember that night, then she’d do whatever it took to make it fade away.
Tears streamed out of her eyes, but she didn’t bother wiping them away.
No more.
No pain.
No confusion.
No more frustration.
If only repeating the words in her head would be enough to make it true.
A flash of dark eyes flickered in her mind, and she gasped.
Isabelle had made her way up the trail, around to an intersecting one, and had been heading back to the house when that flash of memory accosted her.
She stumbled, turning her ankle painfully enough to land her on the ground. On one side was a tall leafy shrub. On the other side was a building. Isabelle winced, shutting her eyes tight.
Those eyes. They belonged to him. Pain and terror enveloped her, and she got to her hands and knees to throw up at the side of the path.
Her heart pounded angrily in her chest, furious at her decision to run it into the ground. Throat dry and scratchy, Isabelle gulped in breath after breath. She reached for that memory again.
Why torture herself?
