page62 (1/1)

They sprawled on the couch side by side, feet propped on her coffee table Jig’s cut rested on the back of an ariven up any thoughts of that life years ago, but would be lying through his ass if he said it didn’t feel nice It felt too nice Inti to do with appreciating the person he ith for nothing beyond her company

Izzy rolled her head in his direction “Can I ask you so?”

“Shoot” He grabbed his beer and took a good pull Nothing like beer and pizza to round out a shitty day

“You’re not going to like it”

His gut tightened, and he lowered the bottle, unable to take another sip “What’s your question?”

She reached out and traced a finger over the scar pattern on his face Feather-light, her finger tracked the puzzle-piece shape that had given hiled with awareness until he could feel the entire scar on his cheek Not the burning that came when the shit hit the fan, but a pressure, al a template of the pattern onto his face

Jig froze, couldn’t le muscle, couldn’t speak, could barely draw in a breath Over six years he’d had that scar, and none of the women he’d been with had touched it Most of them would never want to, and the two that had tried faced fury they hadn’t bargained for

Anger didn’t co terror for the question about to fall from her lips

“Will you tell me about this? About how it happened? About what you went through?”

Not only had his face been untouched, but no one dared ask hi to face the consequences Copper knew the entire story, but he was the only one Everyone else knew the basics, but never learned the depths to which Jig had sunk after the tragedy

But Izzy was brave and didn’t back away froht or let fear control her actions There was true caring gleaaze, not morbid curiosity The intense events of the day had deepened the bond growing between theh neither was prepared, the connection between the into deep affection So she touched And she asked And for the first ti to unload the story There was a chance she’d run screa before he was finished, but he still felt coers caressed his face and the uncharacteristic way her body ainst him made him putty in her hands

He cupped his hand over hers on his face and held her palainst his cheek, then turned his head and pressed his lips to the very center Izzy straightened on the couch and faced his underneath her

“About six and a half years ago, I had a wife and a little girl” His voice cracked over “girl” “They’re both dead now” For so many years, he’d refused to voice that truth, and while it was painful to say, it wasn’t quite as gut-wrenching as he’d iined And that was all due to Izzy and the co from her Not pity, just concern and patience

She didn’t feed him bullshit, didn’t tell him it was okay, didn’t say she understood It was appreciated Because nothing about the story was okay, and how could anyone ever understand? But she sat in silent support, listening with focused attention and holding his hand

“I was—” He huffed out a huh “I was very different back then You probably wouldn’t recognize nize myself anymore I was a PhD student in physics I’d never been in a fight, hardly swore, never held a gun I was…normal”

Izzy gave hiement and squeezed his hand

“My as…” He blew out a breath and stared at the ceiling as a host of unresolved feelings washed over hi how sorrow could feel so fresh even after six years had passed “She was the definition of sweet S, soft-spoken, non-confrontational, a pacifist”

His gaze h neither of the about the differences between the women Callie and Izzy couldn’t have been farther apart on the spectrum

“She was just a good, loving, supportive wife Weloved her” He snorted “She’d have hatedit like that Don’t think I ever heard a four-letter word coary sweet I swear, we never even fucked Just hter was a carbon copy of her mother Two peas in a pod”