IMOGEN'S POV
I pulled away from Isaac's embrace, wiping the tears from my face with the back of my hand. My legs felt weak, but I forced myself to stand tall.
"You should go," I said, my voice steadier than I expected.
Isaac shook his head. His eyes dropped to my hand. "That's a gun."
I slipped it back into my waistband, covering it with my shirt.
"Who was that man?" he asked.
"None of your concern." I turned toward my door, fumbling with the keys. My hands were still shaking.
Isaac stepped forward, placing his palm flat against the door as I tried to open it. "Talk to me."
"No." I kept my eyes on the door handle. "I cannot fuck up your life again."
"That's what pushing me away does," he said quietly.
The guilt hit me like a punch to the stomach. I looked at him properly then – his hair damp from the rain, water droplets clinging to his shoulders. The croissants in the box were probably getting soggy.
I sighed and stepped back, opening the door wider. "Fine. Come in."
