For more than an hour, he’d lain there, in the bed they’d shared, on the pillow that still smelled like her, his mind turning over everything she’d said. Her body language had been off, her words hadn’t been right… He’d never seen her fake a smile for him, but he was sure she’d done it tonight.
His phone buzzed with an incoming call, and he grabbed it, hoping it was Nat. Instead, Nash’s face stared up at him from the screen. He blew out a sigh and closed his eyes, knowing exactly how this was going to go. He’d want to know if Asher had bucked up and talked to Nat, told her how he was feeling.
No. No, he absolutely had not. He could’ve, when she’d asked him about the song he’d been playing, with lyrics he’d written about her. Or when they’d started talking about what they were going to do now that the hearing was over. But nope. He couldn’t bring himself to when he already knew where she stood.
The call clicked over to voice mail, and fifteen seconds later, it buzzed with a text.
Pick up, asshole.
He hadn’t even finished reading the message before the phone buzzed again. From experience, he knew Nash would keep this up for hours if he needed to. Which meant Asher should just skip ahead, avoid a lot of irritation, and answer now.
“What?”
“Is it true you told her it was time for her to go?”
He blew out a heavy sigh. At least she hadn’t led with him suggesting divorce. “That wasn’t exactly what I said, but it doesn’t change that itistime.”
The line was silent for long moments before Nash said, “And that was it?”
“What else was I supposed to say?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe, Nat, I love you? Please stay?”
“Why the hell would I ask her to do that when shewantsto leave? She loves her job and she loves not bein’ stuck in one place and she loves—”
“You, you jackass.”
“You read it wrong, Nash.”
He huffed out an incredulous laugh. “Right. You didn’t see her when she came over here, but somehowIgot it wrong. Look, I’m gonna give you a little more leeway than I would any other guy who broke her heart—”
“Her heart’s not—”
“Shut up. I told you earlier you needed to figure out how this could work, and I meant it. I’ve got a chance to have both my best friends here again, at least some of the time, and I’d appreciate it if you assholes didn’t ruin it for me.”
“What the hell am I supposed to figure out, Nash? She doesn’t belong here.”
“Then maybe you don’t either.”
“You know it’s not just about me anymore.”
“I know, but don’t try to tell me those kids don’t love her, too.” He was quiet for long moments and then finally said, “Thought you should know I’m drivin’ your wife to the airport tomorrow. Figure this shit out, Asher.”
And then the bastard hung up on him.
Figure it out. Right. Like it was so easy. If it were just him and Nat, itwouldbe. They could city-hop all over the world, never staying in a place for more than two days for all he cared if it meant he’d be with her. But it wasn’t just the two of them anymore, and they never would’ve become a them if it weren’t for the kids who were now his.
He lost track of time as he lay there, tossing and turning and trying to sleep. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw that flash of hurt he’d sworn he’d seen in hers when he’d told her she could leave whenever she wanted. He saw that damn fake smile. Even when June had migrated in during the night for a snuggle, it hadn’t been enough to keep his mind occupied.
June didn’t always slip in during the night, but it had happened enough that he hated how much room there was in the bed. Hated that his fingers weren’t linked with Nat’s. Hated that their eyes weren’t meeting over the tops of the kids’ heads. Hated that she wasn’t there to talk about absolutely nothing with him until he finally fell asleep.
He had no idea how to do this without her. Worse, he didn’t want to. The only way he’d been able to manage any of it had been because she’d been by his side. Not because she’d done things for him—if anything, they’d screwed up right alongside each other—but rather, because she’d never doubted him for a second. Never doubted that he was the best place for June and Owen, though he’d doubted plenty enough for both of them.
He hadn’t even had time to come to grips with it, really. He’d assumed they’d at least have until the original flight she’d had scheduled, but instead, she’d packed her bags, written a note for June, and had been out the door fifteen minutes later.
If that wasn’t answer enough about whether or not she’d been itching to flee, he didn’t know what was. She couldn’t have said it louder than if she’d chartered a helicopter to land in their backyard and whisk her off to the airport even faster.
He must’ve dozed off at some point because he woke to Owen’s babbles on the baby monitor and June bouncing on the bed.
