Nathan was a cook when she first started here. She remembers when I describe him—dark hair, dark eyes, and smaller build than Jude. But she’s shocked to learn I’m still with him.
Aren’t we all.
“You mean, you really aren’t with that hot rocker guy, DC? The one who always waits for me to leave first?” She scrunches her brows at me. “I thought you were kidding when you calledhim a friend.You haven’t mentioned Nathan, and DC’s always here for you. I don’t even know him, and I can tell he’s a good one.”
A lot of uncomfortable questions follow, because she thought she had witnessed the end of Nathan and me weeks ago. Hot shame fills my face when she brings upThe Incident.
I’ve tried to forget about it. Nathan didn’t seem to have any trouble wiping it from his memory.
There’s a fine line between forgiving and being an idiot, and the shocked look on Lainey’s face tells me I’ve crossed it. She looks up to me. What kind of example am I setting for her?
Anyone who so much as thinks unkind thoughts in her direction would have me throwing hands. They’d be on the receiving end of some scathing verbal warfare and vicious attacks to their shins. Yet I allowed someone who claimed to love me humiliate me while she watched.
And I did nothing.
It should’ve been the end, and at the time I believed it was. But like everything else, I made excuses to myself and pushed it out of my mind when he acted like nothing happened. It didn’t occur to me how weak that incident mademelook.
A few days after the baby news erupted, Nathan went completely ballistic. I must’ve pushed too hard. I asked how this baby mama situation was going to affect our plans, and maybe I hadn’t given him enough time to process it himself.
I was worried about our income going to childcare, and what if we disagreed on parenting and discipline? Would he expect me to quit school? Should we just put our relationship on hold?
I was already a live-in babysitter to my siblings most of my life, and I needed some reassurance. Maybe it was self-centered, but I needed to know what he was thinking.
If I can think of all the ways to handle a problem, I can minimize the risks before the problem runs me over like a truck.He wasn’t ready for that discussion, so maybe I brought the whole thing on myself.
Nathan and I had argued the night before, and by that evening at work, though I never said another word about it, he was stoic, pouty, and not speaking. He was being rude to Lainey—not even responding to work-related questions. The other cook kept asking me what his problem was, and since he knew we were dating, he assumedIwasthe problem.
So, when Nathan walked outside with the trash, I followed him to the dumpster.
I didn’t yell or call him names. I didn’t call him out in front of anyone. I only said, “You can stop being a jerk now. Lainey and Mark didn’t do anything to you. Grow up and quit making everyone miserable.”
I know I’m blunt, but it wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have said to a friend. I’m sure I’ve said worse to Jace.
I must’ve triggered something, because he screamed F-bombs, female anatomy, and dog references at me for a solid ten minutes, even following me inside to continue his tirade as he physically backed me across the kitchen into the hard steel door of the walk-in freezer.
He never hit me, but spitting and flailing in a full-blown rage is an image I’ve worked hard to block out. I’d never been spoken to that way before, not even by my dad or the most crackbrained customers, but I held it together.
No one defended me. No one said anything to him. Dave just rolled his eyes, and Mark and Lainey stayed out of it. When I finally escaped, I went to the bathroom to pat my face with a cold, wet paper towel and finished my shift like nothing happened.
I don’t know how long I sat in my car, staring straight ahead like a zombie when I got home. Jude pulled into the parking lot right behind me. He said he waited for me to walk with him, butI didn’t move. I remember getting a text asking if I was okay, but when I didn’t respond, he walked in front of my car and tapped on the hood, giving me a little distance to look up and see him.
I think everyone has experienced getting separated from a parent as a kid. One minute you’re mesmerized by a Barbie Jeep and the next you’re alone—frozen in panic. Breaths come quick and shallow, your chest tightens, and there’s a cold, lightheaded sensation of distress that washes over your body from head to toe. It’s a bone-chilling physical fear.
But when you finally spot them and you know you’re safe, that icy panic melts into a warm rush, and the release of emotion comes hard and fast.
That’s the only way I can describe what happened when my eyes focused on Jude that night. One tear escaped, then the whole dam broke.
He was at my door in two strides, calmly but insistently telling me to unlock the door. My blurry eyes found his bracelets—one black, one with colors.
Safe.
“Lu,hey. I’m right here. I got you. What happened?” He reached in and brushed his palm against my cheek, gently urging me to talk to him in the most patient tone I’d ever heard as he scanned me from head to toe looking for injuries. “Is your family okay? Is everyone safe?”
I nodded, unable to speak, and desperately wishing I could collapse into his arms and not talk at all. I could. He’d let me.
“I-I’m sorry, but I have to ask … did Nathan, or anyone, force you to do something you didn’t want to do?”
Nathan tested my boundaries on a regular basis, but that wasn’t the case. I cringed as I shook my head no.
