Stiletto Sisterhood

Original Edition: Isobel | I am whole

Isobel slammed the door to it suite and it cracked behind her, sharp as a gunshot.

A fraction of a second later it opened and Cait sauntered in, a wicked smirk on her face. "Careful. Hotel management may evacuate thinking that was an earthquake and not you in a snit." She eased the door shut behind her, wiggled her brows. "See, now that's how you close a door."

Caught in the maelstrom of her own thoughts, Isobel spun where she stood, snatching her suitcase and heaved it on one of the two beds. She'd had the forethought to check return flights on the way over and knew there was an early morning one that would see her home before early afternoon. She didn't need to be at the airport for at least a couple more hours, but the thought of spending another minute in this hotel turned her stomach.

God, she was so angry she was vibrating.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, but I can't be around anyone right now."

"We're roommates. Where else am I supposed to go?"

Isobel wrenched open drawers and hauled out armfuls of clothes. She hadn't unpacked much, thankfully, just a few items that she'd planned to decide between for the trip to Spain. Her toiletries and makeup kit in the bathroom. A couple of pairs of heels. The newest fantasy novel she'd started last week..."Twenty minutes, please. I just need to be alone to pack and then the suites all yours."

Ignoring her request, Cait dropped to the edge of the second bed, crossed a leg. "Going somewhere?"

"Home. I'm going home, where I should've stayed instead of coming all the way out here to—" To what? She'd come hoping against hope that she was wrong—about Shayne, about everything, only to discover it was so much worse. Exasperated, Isobel heaved the clothes to the bed and set shaking hands to her face.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"What's the talk about?" Isobel pulled her hands away, held them in the air for a moment before letting them fall. "You were there."

"Yes, I was," Cait agreed, elbow set on her knee and chin propped on her fist. Attentive as a fashion editor scrutinizing an affluent designer's spring line sashaying down the runway. "But you had an axe to grind before she dropped the messy K-bomb. What's going on?"

Don't be angry with her, Bel. Those words had looped in her head, an endless song that was slowly driving her to a point of blinding rage she didn't know she was capable of until this moment as she relayed the entire venomous truth to Cait.

She had every reason to be angry. It was bad enough when all she had fueling her hurt was the thought that Shayne had slithered behind her. Or that her father would sneak around instead of discussing it with her plainly before ink dried on paper. The two of them in cahoots while she remained blithely unaware and in the dark.

But now Kyle? How the hell was she supposed to process this kind of betrayal?

"You're not angry with Shayne," Cait said when Isobel ended with that very same string of maddening questions. "Not completely."

A stunned laugh seeped out of her. "Then who am I angry with if not—?"

"Your mother."

That stopped her cold. "What does my mother have to do with any of this?"

"Hear me out." Cait reached between them, took Isobel's hands and pulled her to sit down. Dragging a knee up, Cait swiveled around to face her more directly. "For as long as I've known you, all you've wanted was the picture perfect family life. That's what Kyle was for you. The great guy with the promise of a house full of kids and a puppy or two."