Crying.
Disbelief.
He had imagined dropping to his knees and holding her until neither of them could stand.
Instead, he stared at her from six feet away.
She looked older.
Still beautiful.
But changed.
Her hair was shorter now, falling just past her shoulders.
There were lines beside her eyes Isaiah didn't remember.
She wore gray sweatpants and one of his old college T-shirts.
Or what used to be his shirt.
Seeing it hurt more than it should have.
"Isaiah."
She whispered it again.
The stranger appeared in the doorway behind her.
Isaiah's eyes moved immediately to him.
The man stopped.
No one spoke.
Lena started toward Isaiah.
He stepped back.
She froze.
"Don't."
The word came out lower than Isaiah intended.
Lena's eyes filled instantly.
"Oh my God."
Isaiah laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"That's what you're going with?"
She stared at him.
"You're alive."
There it was.
Isaiah looked at the stranger.
The man lowered his gaze.
Isaiah's jaw tightened.
"You sound disappointed."
"No."
Lena shook her head violently.
"No. God, no."
She stepped toward him again.
Isaiah raised one hand.
"Stay there."
Her face crumpled.
The stranger spoke for the first time.
"Maybe I should leave."
Isaiah looked directly at him.
"That would be a good idea."
"Isaiah," Lena said.
He ignored her.
The stranger grabbed a coat from a hook.
Then he hesitated.
"Lena, I'll—"
"Don't say her name."
The kitchen went silent.
The man's expression changed.
Not anger.
Understanding.
That made Isaiah hate him more.
"Isaiah, please," Lena whispered.
He looked at her.
"Who is he?"
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Isaiah nodded slowly.
"Okay."
He bent, lifted his duffel bag, and turned toward the driveway.
Lena ran after him.
"Wait."
He kept walking.
"Isaiah!"
She caught his arm.
Training took over.
He spun.
For one fraction of a second his body reacted before his mind did.