I’m at work after 7, but just call whenever. Okay, gorgeous? Love you.
Nate glared at the phone, the same rage boiling up in him as the moment he’d walked in on Samantha.
This ‘Dave’ wasn’t just some guy. Dave loved Jess. She had a serious relationship with a guy who loved her. All that “He’s not my boyfriend” rubbish. What? So he was her fiancé? Her husband?
Liar. Cheater. And he’d let her cheat—on her maybe husband—with him.
A bitter taste filled his mouth. He dropped the phone and leapt out of bed. His first impression had been right. She wasn’t to be trusted.
Grabbing the clothes on the line, he dressed in a hurry, not even caring that they were damp. He grabbed his keys and almost ran for his car, slamming the door behind him.
Thank goodness they hadn’t done anything more than kiss last night. She’d probably run away out of guilt. How far would she have gone the next time if he hadn’t found out? All the way, he guessed. Leading him on like an idiot. A plaything. No consideration for his feelings or Dave’s. And what if Dave had turned up at the cottage? He’d probably get blamed. Who knew what kind of guy Dave was? He might have punched him, or worse.
Nate reversed down the driveway far too fast, and then tried to calm himself as he pulled onto the long country road into Rangiora. Back to the initial plan. Ignore Jess. Get a room on his own.
When he reached the old hospital, he pulled out his phone and booked the first bed-and-breakfast that came up on the booking site. It was only available for two nights and was expensive, not one Tom had decided was affordable for the film crew clearly. And he’d have to pay out of pocket, which probably wasn’t a smart move, considering his current situation with Samantha. All the wedding bills he may not be able to recuperate pressed briefly on him like a hundred-pound weight, but who cared at this point? He wasn’t spending another minute sharing a house with a cheater.
NATE MANAGED TO AVOIDJess most of the day, only bumping into her once on set and exchanging an awkward glance. She’d blushed, embarrassed.
And so she should be. Embarrassed and ashamed of herself. He nursed his bitterness and refused to let it soften, a now familiar protective shield firmly up. He should never have let it down; he could see that now. Not wanting to encounter Jess at the cottage, he headed straight to his new bed-and-breakfast accommodation after filming.
The room was attached to the main house, but private, with its own little kitchenette and ensuite. The large windows, silk sheets, and tall bookshelves reminded Nate of his apartment, and for the first time since arriving in New Zealand, his chest ached with homesickness. He sat in an elegantly upholstered chair near the window, staring out at the garden and tree-lined section, and sipped at a cup of tea.
He hated that he’d let Jess get to him. But holding her in his arms had felt so good. Not just good, but beautiful. Without warning, the walls around Nate’s heart slipped and all the pain of the last few weeks rushed at him.
His phone rang and ‘Dad’ flashed up on the screen. Nate placed his tea down and answered the call, suddenly desperate to know what was happening with the apartment and, like when he was small, desperate to hear his father’s comforting voice.
“Dad?”
“Nate, glad I caught you. I wasn’t sure what time you finished work for the day. Is it going well?”
Nate rarely cried. He was too busy for that and hadn’t had a lot of reasons in his life for tears, to be honest. Things, until now, had all gone fairly smoothly. The only time he could remember crying as an adult was at the birth of twins. They’d been born early, and he’d lost both of them. He’d cried then, and he cried now, clutching the phone with his father’s voice in his hand like it was a lifeline.
“Son? Oh, son. I’m so sorry. This must be so hard.” Of course his dad understood without explanation. He always did.
“I just can’t believe she’d do this,” Nate said, catching his breath between sobs. Was he talking about Samantha or Jess? Or both. Both had let him down. “I didn’t expect…she had an affair, dad.”
“I’m so sad to hear that.”
“Maybe it was my fault? Maybe—”
“No, son. You can’t blame yourself for other people’s choices.”
Was his dad right? He had no idea, but in that moment he allowed his father’s words to comfort him. She’d made her choice. She was responsible for her actions. Both of them were.
He wiped at his cheeks, his voice cracking down the phone. “I thought this was it, you know. I thought I was building what you and mum have. Doing everything right.”
He’d tried to emulate his parents’ life in many ways. They had what he considered a perfect life. He’d followed in his father’s footsteps, quit the soap opera, quit acting, and headed to medical school. Then he’d pursued consultancy, just like his dad, and met an intelligent, strong woman. It seemed inevitable, that happy path: wedding, kids, buying a bigger home in the suburbs when the kids were older, hosting summer lunches next to the pool with their friends. He’d have a steady, well-paid role at the hospital, she’d be happy in her job too, and they’d build this beautiful life together. Assumptions that shattered when he’d found his fiancée with another man. What was left?
“Is Samantha still at the apartment?”
“She is,” his dad said. “And she says she wants to buy you out.”
Nate’s tears instantly dried up. No way he was losing that, too. “No, that’s not happening. She had the affair. She doesn’t get to take the apartment.”
“Are you sure you want to get into that fight, son? It could get complicated.”
“I’m completely sure.”
