He waved a hand. “It’s not going to be that bad.”
“What about in Palmer City? Did you check?”
“My flight is on,” he said firmly. “My car will be here in a few minutes.”
“Do you have big plans or something?”
Nathan turned and picked up his bag from the floor. “No—”
“Then what’s the big deal?” I tailed him as he walked down the steps. “You could reschedule for another time. You’re going to fly back during peak Thanksgiving travel.”
Thanksgiving was less than a week away. We’d been preparing at the café, hoping to have an influx of families buying coffee and eating breakfast that weekend. We even made an agreement with Gemma to sell some of her baked goods.
Nathan spun to face me, immediately halting my descent. “The big deal, Brenna, is I need to be somewhere else. I need a weekend to myself.”
The words burned like a slap. “You need a weekend away from me, you mean.”
“I need… a break.”
“I thought we were getting along?”
“We were… we are…”
“Is this because I went to lunch with Derek?” I blurted out, desperate to keep him talking, worried if he left before we got to the bottom of this, we might never talk about it again.
“What?”
“It’s not… like that… if that’s what you’re worried about,” I sputtered, tracing circles in the carpet with one socked foot.
An emotion flickered over his face before his expression quickly slipped back to frustrating blankness. “I’m not flying home because you had lunch with Ellis, Brenna.”
“Then, what is it?” I flung my arms out wide, frustration seeping into every bone.
He stared, his head tilted, waiting for me to finish my thought.
“What is your reason for pushing me away?”
“I’m not—”
“You are,” I insisted, trying to fight the sting in my eyes. “You know you are. Just tell me why.”
A car horn sounded outside. Nathan pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, his eyes scanning the screen. “I’ve gotta go.” He turned, taking the last few steps to the front door.
“Nathan!” I called, stopping on the bottom step.
He stood in the open doorway. A crease formed between his brows. “What happened to your engagement ring, Brenna?”
He stepped toward me until we were so close, we breathed the same air. My fingers twitched at my side, longing to reach out to him, to wrap my arms around his neck, to pull his mouth to mine.
I could. I wasn’t promised to anyone.
My lips parted, readying to answer, to say something, anything. But no words came.
“I’ll see you in a few days, Quinn,” he whispered before he walked out of the house, leaving me behind.
My hands rustled through the nightstand drawer before I could stop myself. I never opened the letter Gordon left for me. I didn’t want to see his last words. I held onto people, experiences, feelings for far longer than other people. Endings were never easy for me.
As soon as Nathan closed the front door of the house, all I wanted to know waswhyGordon did this to me. He knew I was highly sensitive. He knew I’d always loved his son, agonized over his loss. Gordon also knew the depth of Nathan’s stubbornness and pride. What made him think we’d get it right this time?
