marriage or like I’m not the guy in love with you.”
Her mouth falls open, and she stares at me.
Oh, Christ. I really said that, didn’t I?
But I’m not taking it back. In fact, I take a step closer. “Izzy, I love you. If you feel even a fraction of the same, we can figure this out together. We can find a way for you to stay.”
“Oh, Bradley.” A fresh wave of tears descends as the crumpled tissue falls from her hand. She starts to reach for it, but I close the gap between us.
Catching her by one elbow, I reach up to cup her cheek. “Iz, what? Tell me all of it. Please, you owe me that much.”
I feel her stiffen, and wish I could take back the word “owe.” That’s not what we’re about, especially now that I’ve laid out my cards. I love this woman, and unless I’m nuts, she’s not far from feeling the same.
“I—I can’t.” She whispers the words, then closes her eyes. “I care about you so much—a million times more than I expected to. But that’s not enough.”
She didn’t say love, but she didn’t run screaming from the room at my declaration. “The hell it’s not enough.”
“Bradley, no.” She opens her eyes again and shakes her head, tears shimmering on her lashes. “My brother, he was supposed to marry Stefano’s sister.”
“Your brother.” I stare into her eyes, trying to understand. “Not one of your Bracelyn brothers?”
She shakes her head and swipes a sleeve under her eyes. “My brother, Oliver. He was born when I was twelve and he was the best baby in the world. Always laughing and smiling and grabbing my hair in his little fist.”
There’s a dimness to the light in her eyes, and I reach up to swipe away a freshly fallen tear. “What happened?”
“He died,” she whispers. “He was only a baby, and he died. But before that, the Duke promised him to Caroline. Stefano’s sister; she was four at the time, though they wouldn’t have married for many years.”
“Okay,” I say, struggling to follow. “So this was a strategically arranged marriage, like you said.”
“Right, but more significant because Oliver was the biological child of my mother and the Duke. They both come from powerful bloodlines, but together—” She shakes her head, not bothering to complete the thought. “Once Oliver died, it fell to me to carry on the legacy. It’s my duty as their only daughter.”
She sways a little on her feet, so I reach for her again. I expect her to flinch, but she leans into me like my touch might be the only thing holding her upright.
“So it’s about duty.” Some selfish, egotistical part of me likes hearing it’s not a love match. That Izzy’s not enamored with her fiancé. “What about duty to yourself? Making yourself happy and chasing your own dreams.”
Her eyes search mine, still glittering with tears. “Is it ever really that easy?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t it be?”
“You’re asking me about duty?” She shakes her head slowly. “If it were that simple, you’d be an Army doctor. Your sister might still be stuck in an unhappy marriage, and your mother—your mother would have faced your father’s death alone. You do understand duty, Bradley.”
Her words land like blows, but soft ones. I get her point, and yet— “Changing career plans isn’t the same as sacrificing your own happiness for someone else,” I say slowly. “I’m happy as a private practice doc. I’m glad I came home to Oregon.”
Glad because it means I met Izzy, which I don’t say out loud because the last thing she needs is more guilt piled onto her sagging shoulders.
“You don’t understand.” Shame twists her features like she’s heard my thoughts. “I owe them. My family, it’s the least I can do.”
“Why?” I ask. “You’re technically not even the Duke’s heir, and your mother—surely she wants you to be happy?”
She shakes her head, searching my face like she’s waiting for me to get it. Like this should all make sense. “It’s my fault he’s dead,” she says softly. “My brother. I killed him.”
“What?” I trip over the word, recognizing its inadequacy in the face of so much pain in Izzy’s eyes. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true,” she says. “I was in charge. I was watching him when he died, and everyone knows it’s my fault. My mother, the Duke—”
The sobs that seize her this time are unlike the ones before. She’s wracked by huge, heavy waves of shame, crying