keepsmiling-7 Thank you for the compliment. We love Isabel's relationship to her mother. It was strong throughout the series and we enjoyed writing them here.
The memory of that first love remains indelibly printed upon the heart, and when that stamp is tarnished by the pain of such deep loss it carries so much more weight. For Isabel it's made it difficult to let go, to allow the good memories to override the pain of that loss. By sharing her past with Travis, Diane helped her daughter to see that it is possible to not only love again, but to open herself to the possibilities and embrace a new relationship.
Eva- Thank you! We love Isabel and her mother's relationship and we enjoy writing them especially now that they're together without secrets.. There is more....
sarammlover We're glad you liked the update.
Diane knows her daughter well and knows how to pose questions to help her sort things out. We love their relationship and enjoy writing them. As for Isabel and Kyle....Please keep reading.
Author’s Note: There are just a few lines in this part from the song ‘The Gambler’ – obviously we don’t own it!
Part 5
Kyle’s gaze flicked to the clock over the bar. Ninety more minutes and he’d manage to survive New Year’s without her. He was a grown man. He didn’t need anyone to hold his hand through the holiday just because she wasn’t interested in moving forward. With him. Or anyone really, but he wasn’t noble enough to want her to move forward with just anyone. He sighed and ran a hand though his hair. No, he wasn’t that noble, but if that’s what it took for it to happen then he could suck it up. He wasn’t so small that he wanted her to be miserable. He just couldn’t stay here and watch her move on with someone else.
“I get that you need some space,” Michael said, interrupting his thoughts yet again.
“No, you don’t get it,” he bit out as his gaze swung to the other man. “If you got it you’d get outta here and leave me alone.”
“Valenti, you’re talkin’ about leavin’ and I – “
“Michael, drop it.”
It was rare that Kyle called him by his first name so that immediately had his attention. Usually he called him by his last name or by that stupid nickname he’d given him, El Capitan. The first name was generally reserved for those times when he wanted to make sure he had his attention.
“Look, whatever happened, it’s between me an’ Isabel. It’s not anyone else’s business. You mean well and I appreciate that, but you’re not helpin’ things by pushin’ me on this.”
“I don’t know how else to get you to talk to me.”
If his mood had been anywhere other than the toilet, it would’ve made him laugh. Michael Guerin wanting to talk? Who could’ve ever seen that one coming? “Then do us both a favor and don’t strain yourself. Go back to Maria, tell her we bonded or whatever, and I’m fine.”
Michael emptied his glass and set it down before dropping his feet to the floor. “You’re not fine, Valenti, and she’d see right through the lie.” He shifted to pull his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the caller ID before waving it in front of his friend’s face so he could see Maria’s name on the display. “I’m gonna step outside and get this and when I get back in here we’re gonna get your head screwed on straight so I can get outta here.”
He waved a hand dismissively and turned back to face his half empty beer, sighing tiredly as he rubbed his hands over his eyes. Would he go back and do things differently if he could? Maybe handle the situation without crossing a line that could never be uncrossed? He shook his head, unable to see things unfolding any other way. And selfishly he couldn’t let that night be wished away no matter how much pain it might have prevented.
Might have? He snorted at that. There was no might about it.
How many times had she had a date pick her up at their place? She’d never brought them back home afterwards but she’d come home well after midnight on a few occasions. She’d been shocked when she’d stopped by his room and run into Holly Barrister bouncing around his room like the energizer bunny with fresh batteries. Wearing an old football jersey out of his closet and what appeared to be nothing else. Her expression had turned decidedly frosty when he stepped out of his bathroom, a towel knotted around his hips while he ran another one over his hair.
“What’s up?” he asked as he tossed the towel across the room where it landed over the back of his desk chair.
“I just wanted to let you know breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”
“Okay, well – “
“Oh, I’d love something to eat,” Holly enthused as she ran over and threw her arms around him. “Thank you sooo much for last night!”
He hadn’t missed the eye roll or the look of irritation on Isabel’s face as she turned and stormed out of his room. He started to go after her but she made it out of the house and then ducked him all day on campus. He managed to work himself up into a pretty dark mood of his own by the time he came home, making it a point to get there early enough to catch her before another one of her dates.
She was surprised when she saw him but she was quick to hide it. He didn’t want any part of that particular denial game and when she made a smart-mouthed comment about his date the night before he turned around and threw the pot into the sink without bothering to take the food out of it first.
“You got somethin’ you wanna say let’s hear it,” he snapped. “For the past year you’ve paraded more guys through here than I’ve been able to keep count of and the one time I bring someone home you’re all over me about it. You’re the one that said I needed to get out and date more or have you forgotten that?!”
“I said date them, not bring them home for an overnight stay.”
He was completely lost and utterly confused. “Why the hell does it matter to you?” He leaned on the counter separating them, his hands locked around the edge because at the moment he wanted nothing more than to throttle her.
“I just think you can do better.”
“Uh-huh, and what the hell’s wrong with Holly?”
“Her name’s stupid to start with.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “That’s your argument? Her name’s stupid?” He threw his hands up in the air. “This from the girl who set me up with a girl named Bitsy?” He rounded the counter and stood toe to toe with her as he got in her space to make his point. “You have no right to say anything about who I choose to bring home.”
“I don’t bring any of my dates home and I sure as hell haven’t let any of them run around the house half naked.”
He was seething inside. He hadn’t even done anything wrong. Hell, he had even slept on the couch because he was that guy, the guy that never got the girl because they never wanted the one that was decent and wanted to stick around. Not that it even mattered. Holly had only come home with him because she’d had a couple drinks too many and she’d managed to lose her keys. Her roommate was out of town visiting family over the holidays so she’d had no way to get into her apartment until the office opened the next morning. There would be no convincing Isabel of that but he didn’t care to make his case for celibacy at the moment. Frankly, it was none of her damn business.
“Okay, so let’s talk.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Let’s not.”
“Maria said Isabel hasn’t showed up at the pub.”
“And what would you like me to do about that?” he snapped.
“I’d like you to get your head outta your ass and tell me what happened. Beyond the obvious,” Michael clarified, “because whether you wanna admit it to me or not, we both know the two of you got it on.”
“What’re you, like fifteen? You’re obsessed with this situation and you’re using up more than your quota of juvenile terms to talk about sex.” He made a face and reached for his beer.
“Don’t you feel better now that you’ve admitted it?”
“God, you’re like a dog with a bone.” He was exasperated and frustrated and about a dozen other adjectives he could think of just off the top of his head. “I’m not the guy she wants, okay? So it doesn’t matter.”
“It does if she slept with you.” He grabbed a handful of peanuts when the bartender set a fresh bowl on the counter in front of him. “She’s not exactly the casual type.”
He was not sitting in a bar discussing his sex life with Michael Guerin of all people. This was not what his life had come down to. “How do I get it through your thick head that she’s stuck in the dream?” He waved his hands wildly, the gesture easily conveying his frustration. “I’m not the guy in the dream, got it? And I’m not sitting here feelin’ sorry for myself. Sometimes you gotta know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em.”
“Say what?”
“The Gambler? Know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em? Know when to walk away, know when to run?” He rolled his eyes when Michael just stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.
“You should sing with the Sheriff, you’d fit right in.”
“I’ll pass, thanks.”
“So you’re just gonna fold? Just turn tail and run because she’s got some issues.”
“We’re not talkin’ about her… I dunno, wearin’ her socks to bed, man. I’m talkin’ about the fact that she’s hung up on somethin’ I can’t fight. And I won’t. I’ve waited around for years, hoping she’d finally see me,” he thumped his fist against his chest, “that she’d open her eyes and see that I’m right here, and when she did – when I thought she did, she turned and ran right back to the dream.”
Michael was getting a headache, something that was an unusual occurrence for him, and he blamed it on this conversation. “Look, man, Maria can drive me around the bend to insanity sometimes but – “
“It’s not the same thing! Why can’t you understand that? When that guy, what was his name, Billy, came back into the picture…” he nodded when his friend’s features went taut at the reminder. “Yeah, but you know what? You could’ve fought him. You could’ve put your fist in his face and got your point across.”
“Fat lot of good that would’ve done,” he muttered, wondering how mad Maria would be if he just went to the pub and left Valenti here.
“Well, imagine havin’ to deal with him as a ghost. You know he’s there, you know there’s a bond there, and you know no matter what you do you can’t make her let either of them go.” He lifted his head to look at Michael. “You had to let her go to figure out what she wanted and you lucked out. She came back to you.” He took a drink of his beer. “I don’t have that advantage. Isabel was never mine to begin with.”
“Okay, first off, don’t ever bring Darden’s name up again,” he said with a glare. “Second, I get what you’re sayin’ and I agree that you can’t fight a ghost or a dream or whatever, but the thing is it’s not your fight. If she’s caught up in the dream,” this conversation was seriously taking a lot of work to keep track of, “then she’s gotta be the one to let it go. Sometimes we can’t fight their battles for ‘em no matter how much we want to.”
“That’s great, Obi-Wan.” He leaned forward to thump his forehead on his fisted hands. Michael really wasn’t helping. At all.
“That’s it for the game!”
He sighed when he heard the announcer on the television above the bar shout out those two words. He tuned out the rest of them as his mind shut down, shifting back to a couple of nights ago and the argument that had set their tempers off like a tinderbox. They had ignited like a spark on the dry prairie, engulfing them in flames hotter than anything he’d ever experienced or expected.
He still didn’t know which of them had moved first. They had been arguing and admittedly it had been a pretty stupid argument, spiraling further out of control with every word until they had come together, their lips fusing in an incendiary kiss.