Lust, Love And The Investigator

CH3

Adeline’s POV

It all makes sense now.

The voice from the rain last night, the racing of my pulse as I raced back home. My chest aches, but for a different reason now. My lips fall open and close again, yet no word comes out.

“No,” I whisper, more to myself than him. Is it strange that the first thought that comes to mind is the fact that I should have worn something a little prettier?

I feel bad instantly. I feel bad that my eyes drink him in, tall, controlled, his dark hair a little longer than I remember. It falls across his forehead, the curls teasing his lashes.

The years have sharpened his face, but those eyes….they haven’t changed a bit. The dark pools, hard to read, are crawling through every inch of me.

In this moment, I forget how to breathe.

“Adeline.”

He still calls me the same way, that fervent breath, as if pleading for something. It breaks every inch of me. I want to be upset about that night; that he left without a trace, that I had to figure it out all alone.

Instead, I breathe in his scent, the combination of earth and wood coursing through me.

“I….” My heart thuds hard against my chest, and I shake my head. It is hard to think. Hard to do anything. “Isaiah. You…”

Something clicks in his eyes. Realization.

“It’s you,” he murmurs. “Mrs. Hawthorne. You booked an appointment last night.”

My tongue has refused to work, so I nod instead, a slow movement that makes my head feel heavy. His eyes scan my features, and I just stand there, letting him. It has been years. I should leave it in the past.

Yet, it feels like nothing has changed. Like the world still fades away each time he is in a room.

“You got married.” It sounds like an accusation, sharp enough to snap me out of whatever I was in. When I look back into his eyes, it is still difficult to read him.

I purse my lips and nod again. “Yeah, Mr. Reed. I got married. It’s the reason I am here.”

“Mr. Reed,” he chuckles, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. Stepping away from the door, he motions me inside. “Forgive my manners, Mrs. Hawthorne. Come in.”

I step inside the cosy space, taking it in as the door quietly closes behind us. The office smells faintly of coffee and rain.

Rain.

It thrashes hard against the windowsill, overlooking the whole of the city. His shadow darkens it when he walks forward, moving towards his desk. I bring my gaze back to him, searching for any signs that he knows it was me outside last night.

Any signs that he has an inkling about what happened after he left.

“You can have your seat,” he murmurs, gesturing toward the chair opposite him.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

I don’t know if that makes me relieved or angry.

Lowering myself into the chair, I bring my purse to my knees, clutching onto it like a lifeline. The session is supposed to last an hour, yet time seems to crawl very slowly.

“You … this is unexpected.” I should be talking about anything else. Anything other than him. Yet, I refuse to listen to all rationality in me. “I thought you wanted to go into the army.”

Silence grows between us. He shifts slightly, pulling his computer towards himself.

“Seven years is a long time,” Isaiah murmurs, his eyes flicking to me for a fraction of a second. “People change.”

I hear the hidden meaning in his words. The jab at my marriage. I should be the upset one. Not him. But apparently, seven years isn’t a long enough time, because my heart is still reacting the same way it used to.

Reckless.

Stupid.

“Let’s not do this, Adeline…Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“Do what?” My voice comes out in a whisper, throaty and raw.

“Talk about me,” he says. “You don’t have to. I understand you are here because of your husband, so why don’t we just get into it?”

I trap my bottom lip between my teeth, and his eyes follow my actions. His lips part slightly, but then, he looks away, taking in a deep breath. “I can assign your case to another investigator. He is equally as good…”

I shake my head. “I need your help. I need to find out the truth about my husband.”

I might be imagining it, but I think I see him flinch when I say that word. Husband. But Isaiah has never been a simple man, and assuming he is now will be to my detriment. I need to focus on the reason I am here.

“He is nothing,” I tell myself for the umpteenth time, taking deep breaths. “He is just my private investigator.”

The room breathes when he picks up a pen and a writing pad. “What happened…with your husband?”

“He’s….” I feel a lump in my throat, and I push it down. There’s nothing wrong with my being married. It is like he said. Seven years is a long time.

“He has been acting distant,” I blurt, scooting to the edge of the chair. “He goes out really late and doesn’t return until odd hours of the morning, he calls late at night, and he goes for meetings that I know don’t exist.”

Isaiah nods, scribbling something down in his pad, his eyes furrowed in concentration. “Go on.”

I hate this situation, but I can’t seem to walk away from it.

“I just need to know if there is someone else. If he is cheating on me.”

“And if there is?” he asks softly, looking up at me.

“Then I’ll deal with it,” I respond, not sure I sound as certain as I think I do. “But I need proof first. I just might be making things up in my head.”

Isaiah closes his notebook and leans back in his chair. His hair moves again, and I am filled with the strange urge to push the curls back. I clutch my purse harder.

“I’ll take the case.”

Outside, the rain has reduced to a drizzle. It doesn’t whip harshly at me when I step out. I tell myself it’s just business as I pull my coat tighter to my frame.

A car rolls to a stop beside me, a stone's throw away from the building, and my husband’s head darts out. He doesn’t look pleased.

“Get in, Adeline."