Chapter 59

Isabella ?" He spoke her name softly when he noticed the moist trail of tears that streaked her face. "Would it help any if I told you I was sorry?" He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but it was apparent he’d hurt her, and knowing that didn’t sit right.

She stopped and looked up at him through narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it," he tried once more.

"You don’t remember?" She sounded incredulous.

"No," he admitted, reaching for her hand. "Come back to the house and we’ll talk about it. All right?"

She seemed to be trapped with indecision. He raised his hands to her face and gently rubbed the tears from her cheeks. Each one was an accusation against him. His heart constricted at how pale her features were, how fragile she looked. It demanded every ounce of control he possessed not to take her in his arms and beg her forgiveness. He was a reckless bastard to inflict his drunkenness on so delicate a soul, and he silently vowed never to do it again.

"Com