Only You
Page 44
At first I didn’t think Nate was going to give in, because he didn’t move a muscle. But then he slowly walked toward her and allowed her to take the baby from his arms. “I’ll be right down with the affidavit. You can fill out part of it now.” He went directly to the stairs and headed up into his bedroom.
Rachel and I made eye contact for one brief, uncomfortable second before she looked down at Paisley again. “So are you his girlfriend?” she asked.
I didn’t even know how to answer that question, not that it was any of her business.
“I think it’s only fair to know who he’s bringing around my child.”
“I’m Emme. I live across the hall.”
She looked up at me, eyebrows raised. “Interesting.”
My temper sparked, and I reminded myself I wouldn’t be doing Nate any favors by causing trouble with the mother of his child. It was better if everyone got along.
“I didn’t figure Nate for the type to have a girlfriend,” she said.
“I guess you don’t know him very well.”
She shrugged. “Or he’s got you fooled.”
Channeling my inner Maren, I took a few deep breaths and searched for a peaceful place within myself. There had to be one in there somewhere.
“I’ll admit, he’s taken to this whole fatherhood thing much better than I thought he would.” She looked around at all the baby gear. “I figured he’d be desperate to get rid of her by now.”
“You figured wrong. He adores her.”
Nate came down the stairs with papers in his hand. “I’ll get a pen.”
“I’ve got one,” I said, glad to be useful in any capacity that sent this woman on her way. From my purse I dug out a Devine Events pen and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He went over to the counter separating the kitchen from the living room and set the pen and papers down. “You can do it right here,” he said to Rachel. It was clear the matter was not up for discussion.
Rachel walked slowly to the counter. After reluctantly handing Paisley over to Nate, she filled out the paperwork. After a moment, she said to him, “We need a notary for the signatures.”
“I know that.” He paused. “How long are you in town? We have one at my firm. We could get it done on Monday.”
“I can stay in town until then. I took a leave of absence from work.”
“Fine.” He walked to the door and opened it. “I’ll text you a time and the address.”
Biting her lip, she set the pen down. “Are you sure I can’t take her with me? I’m not trying to keep her from you permanently.”
“I’m sure. You’ll see her on Monday. And then two weeks after that.”
Rachel looked defeated, but she nodded. “Can I kiss her goodbye?”
“No.”
“Nate,” I said softly. Not because I liked Rachel or was remotely on her side, but because as a child of divorce I appreciated the effort to compromise where children were concerned.
He met my eyes, and for a moment I thought he was going to tell me this was none of my business—he’d have been right, too. But instead he closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine.”
Once more, he handed Paisley over to her mother. The poor little thing was probably wondering what the heck was going on the way she was being passed like a basketball back and forth between them, although she wasn’t fussing about it.
Rachel hugged and kissed her, promised to see her the day after tomorrow, and gave her back to Nate. Then she picked up her purse from the floor and walked out.
Nate shut the door behind her and stood facing it.
I felt like I’d been holding my breath for hours. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“That was…a surprise.”
“Yeah.” He held his daughter close, kissed her head.
“Want me to get a bath going for her?” I asked.
“Sure. Thanks.” All the life had gone out of his voice.
We bathed and fed Paisley, ordered dinner in, and ate it sitting on the floor while she played on a blanket—although Nate didn’t eat much, and he still wasn’t very talkative. When Paisley started to get tired and crabby, Nate took her upstairs while I put the leftovers away and loaded the dishwasher. I kept telling myself not to read too much into Nate’s mood, that it had nothing to do with me, but it was hard not to internalize it at least a little.
When he came down, he made us each a cocktail, and we spent the evening watching Bond on the couch like we used to. Only…it wasn’t as much fun.
Nate was shutting down on me—I could sense it. He remained silent the entire time. He didn’t laugh at any jokes or comment on Connery’s superior Bondness or make any attempt to touch me. Half the time, he wasn’t even looking at the screen. I’d look over and see him staring into space, his expression troubled. Something was really wrong.
When the movie was over, I turned off the television and scooted closer to him, slipping my arm through his and laying my head on his shoulder.
“Hey, neighbor. What’s going on with you?”
“Sorry. I’m not very good company tonight.”
He didn’t answer the question. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s been kind of an emotional day. The visit home, and then Rachel showing up wanting to take the baby back.”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay. Well, I’m here if you do.” I put my head down again, totally baffled. This was not the Nate I’d been with last night. It wasn’t even the Nate from Coney Island earlier today. I tried to think of when he’d started putting the walls back up—was it at his mother’s house? On the ride home?
And why?
“I want you to know, I was really proud of you today,” I told him.
“For what?”
“For not giving up on your mother. For standing up to Rachel. For not letting Paisley go early.”
“I didn’t even consider it. In fact, when Rachel threatened to take her, something in me went a little caveman. I was not going to let her take my daughter away from me.”
“Of course not.” I loved the ferocity in his voice. And he looked so handsome sitting there, with that stubborn jaw set just so and his hair all tousled.
I put my hand on his thigh and spoke seductively. “Want some help working off all that tension?”
He looked at my hand and cleared his throat. “I’m not really in the mood.”
Hurt, I pulled my hand away. “Oh. Okay.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay. It’s been a long day. You’re probably tired.”
“Yeah.”
An awkward, awkward silence followed. What was going on? “I’ll head home, I guess.” I wanted him to argue. I wanted him to put his arms around me. I wanted him to tell me that last night wasn’t just a dream, because at this point, I was beginning to think I’d imagined it.
What he said was, “Yeah, that’s probably best. I think we could both use some space.”
I froze. “What?”
“Some space. I think we’ve been…rushing things.”
I stared at his profile. Was I hearing him right? “You want space?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I’m feeling a little crowded, okay? You probably are too.”
“Crowded?” I parroted. This had to be a joke. Was he fucking kidding me with this? He felt crowded? After asking me to stay over last night, inviting me to come with him to his mom’s house, and making me come in when Rachel was here when I’d offered to go home, now he felt fucking crowded?
With my face burning, I got off the couch, felt around in the dark for my sneakers and tugged them on. I needed to get home before I lost my temper or burst into tears.
How had this day gone so terribly wrong?
Eighteen
Nate
Let her go.
She doesn’t really want you. She wants some version of you that doesn’t exist.
Let her find someone who can make her happy, someone who can make her his everything, someone who will give her the future she deserves, because you can’t.
Rachel and I made eye contact for one brief, uncomfortable second before she looked down at Paisley again. “So are you his girlfriend?” she asked.
I didn’t even know how to answer that question, not that it was any of her business.
“I think it’s only fair to know who he’s bringing around my child.”
“I’m Emme. I live across the hall.”
She looked up at me, eyebrows raised. “Interesting.”
My temper sparked, and I reminded myself I wouldn’t be doing Nate any favors by causing trouble with the mother of his child. It was better if everyone got along.
“I didn’t figure Nate for the type to have a girlfriend,” she said.
“I guess you don’t know him very well.”
She shrugged. “Or he’s got you fooled.”
Channeling my inner Maren, I took a few deep breaths and searched for a peaceful place within myself. There had to be one in there somewhere.
“I’ll admit, he’s taken to this whole fatherhood thing much better than I thought he would.” She looked around at all the baby gear. “I figured he’d be desperate to get rid of her by now.”
“You figured wrong. He adores her.”
Nate came down the stairs with papers in his hand. “I’ll get a pen.”
“I’ve got one,” I said, glad to be useful in any capacity that sent this woman on her way. From my purse I dug out a Devine Events pen and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He went over to the counter separating the kitchen from the living room and set the pen and papers down. “You can do it right here,” he said to Rachel. It was clear the matter was not up for discussion.
Rachel walked slowly to the counter. After reluctantly handing Paisley over to Nate, she filled out the paperwork. After a moment, she said to him, “We need a notary for the signatures.”
“I know that.” He paused. “How long are you in town? We have one at my firm. We could get it done on Monday.”
“I can stay in town until then. I took a leave of absence from work.”
“Fine.” He walked to the door and opened it. “I’ll text you a time and the address.”
Biting her lip, she set the pen down. “Are you sure I can’t take her with me? I’m not trying to keep her from you permanently.”
“I’m sure. You’ll see her on Monday. And then two weeks after that.”
Rachel looked defeated, but she nodded. “Can I kiss her goodbye?”
“No.”
“Nate,” I said softly. Not because I liked Rachel or was remotely on her side, but because as a child of divorce I appreciated the effort to compromise where children were concerned.
He met my eyes, and for a moment I thought he was going to tell me this was none of my business—he’d have been right, too. But instead he closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine.”
Once more, he handed Paisley over to her mother. The poor little thing was probably wondering what the heck was going on the way she was being passed like a basketball back and forth between them, although she wasn’t fussing about it.
Rachel hugged and kissed her, promised to see her the day after tomorrow, and gave her back to Nate. Then she picked up her purse from the floor and walked out.
Nate shut the door behind her and stood facing it.
I felt like I’d been holding my breath for hours. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“That was…a surprise.”
“Yeah.” He held his daughter close, kissed her head.
“Want me to get a bath going for her?” I asked.
“Sure. Thanks.” All the life had gone out of his voice.
We bathed and fed Paisley, ordered dinner in, and ate it sitting on the floor while she played on a blanket—although Nate didn’t eat much, and he still wasn’t very talkative. When Paisley started to get tired and crabby, Nate took her upstairs while I put the leftovers away and loaded the dishwasher. I kept telling myself not to read too much into Nate’s mood, that it had nothing to do with me, but it was hard not to internalize it at least a little.
When he came down, he made us each a cocktail, and we spent the evening watching Bond on the couch like we used to. Only…it wasn’t as much fun.
Nate was shutting down on me—I could sense it. He remained silent the entire time. He didn’t laugh at any jokes or comment on Connery’s superior Bondness or make any attempt to touch me. Half the time, he wasn’t even looking at the screen. I’d look over and see him staring into space, his expression troubled. Something was really wrong.
When the movie was over, I turned off the television and scooted closer to him, slipping my arm through his and laying my head on his shoulder.
“Hey, neighbor. What’s going on with you?”
“Sorry. I’m not very good company tonight.”
He didn’t answer the question. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s been kind of an emotional day. The visit home, and then Rachel showing up wanting to take the baby back.”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay. Well, I’m here if you do.” I put my head down again, totally baffled. This was not the Nate I’d been with last night. It wasn’t even the Nate from Coney Island earlier today. I tried to think of when he’d started putting the walls back up—was it at his mother’s house? On the ride home?
And why?
“I want you to know, I was really proud of you today,” I told him.
“For what?”
“For not giving up on your mother. For standing up to Rachel. For not letting Paisley go early.”
“I didn’t even consider it. In fact, when Rachel threatened to take her, something in me went a little caveman. I was not going to let her take my daughter away from me.”
“Of course not.” I loved the ferocity in his voice. And he looked so handsome sitting there, with that stubborn jaw set just so and his hair all tousled.
I put my hand on his thigh and spoke seductively. “Want some help working off all that tension?”
He looked at my hand and cleared his throat. “I’m not really in the mood.”
Hurt, I pulled my hand away. “Oh. Okay.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay. It’s been a long day. You’re probably tired.”
“Yeah.”
An awkward, awkward silence followed. What was going on? “I’ll head home, I guess.” I wanted him to argue. I wanted him to put his arms around me. I wanted him to tell me that last night wasn’t just a dream, because at this point, I was beginning to think I’d imagined it.
What he said was, “Yeah, that’s probably best. I think we could both use some space.”
I froze. “What?”
“Some space. I think we’ve been…rushing things.”
I stared at his profile. Was I hearing him right? “You want space?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I’m feeling a little crowded, okay? You probably are too.”
“Crowded?” I parroted. This had to be a joke. Was he fucking kidding me with this? He felt crowded? After asking me to stay over last night, inviting me to come with him to his mom’s house, and making me come in when Rachel was here when I’d offered to go home, now he felt fucking crowded?
With my face burning, I got off the couch, felt around in the dark for my sneakers and tugged them on. I needed to get home before I lost my temper or burst into tears.
How had this day gone so terribly wrong?
Eighteen
Nate
Let her go.
She doesn’t really want you. She wants some version of you that doesn’t exist.
Let her find someone who can make her happy, someone who can make her his everything, someone who will give her the future she deserves, because you can’t.
