She put the socks back in the dresser drawer and wandered into her living room. The Christmas tree sparkled at her with white lights and decorations. Another gift from her parents. She wanted to be independent, but helping her seemed to give them so much pleasure. A Christmas tree wasn’t a necessity, but it made it that much nicer.
Alone at Christmas.
It didn’t scare her as much as it once might have. She sat down in the rocking chair, another gift, and placed her hands on her tummy. She felt a kick first to her hand, then insideagainst her bladder. She winced, thought about going to the bathroom, then decided she didn’t really need to. Those kicks to the bladder could trick you.
She slowly rocked, the rhythmic motion soothing, the lights of the tree hypnotizing. Outside, rain drizzled down in the darkness, running in rivulets down the windows. In the four months she’d been on her own, she’d settled into herself. Many of the stronger emotions that had tormented her had faded—the sense of betrayal, the anger, the guilt, the confusion.
What hadn’t faded was the intense feeling of missing Nate, of yearning for him, needing to talk to him, to share with him what she’d learned, and especially to share with him the joy of the baby they’d created together. But four months out of a lifetime wasn’t long and given enough time, she’d get past that too.
After Christmas she was going to have to ask Derek if he knew how to reach Nate. If he didn’t, she’d have to track down his parents in L.A. That was going to be weird. But she wouldn’t have to tell them why—although they’d find out eventually.
She thought about Nate all the time. About how he must have felt when he’d found out what Derek had done. Why he’d looked so obliterated the day he’d left. How he’d never dealt with Lauren’s death or betrayal, had just closed himself off to everyone who cared about him.
She hoped he’d reconciled with his parents. After that breakfast in L.A., she’d seen him relax and open up to them. Maybe that’s where he’d gone when he left.
Maybe he’d been traveling the world, taking beautiful pictures. One day she’d Googled him, but couldn’t find anything recent about him.
She rose from the chair, her center of gravity a little different now. She’d have a bath, then time for her and baby to go to bed.
She filled the bathtub with steaming water—but not too hot because she’d read that wasn’t good for the baby—and slipped into it blissfully. Steam curled around her face. She lay her head back on the bath pillow and took a long, slow breath,letting the warmth of the water and the scent of the peach bath oil she’d added relax her.
She’d almost drifted off to sleep, which was not a good thing, when a pounding on her door jarred her to wakefulness. What the hell?
She’d ignore it. Maybe one of the neighbors checking to make sure she wasn’t lonely. They invited her to join them all the time, and sometimes she did, but she didn’t fit in with the crowd of young partiers.
Another burst of knocking. She huffed out a breath. Jeez. She was trying to relax here.
At the third knock, she heaved herself out of the water, grabbed her terry robe and fought to get it on over damp skin. She’d clipped her hair up and little tendrils curled around her face.
She stomped to the door, annoyed at the interruption, and put her eye to the peephole. She drew back sharply. She blinked. She couldn’t have seen right. She looked again.
Nate.
He stood outside her door, scowling at the peephole as if he knew she was there, as if he thought she’d been there the whole time not answering her door. Rain glistened in his shaggy brown hair and on the shoulders of the black jacket he wore.
Her tummy did a little flip and adrenaline raced through her, causing her heart to speed up. Her fingers went to the lock of the door, and she hesitated. Why was he here? Did he know? This wasn’t exactly a good way for him to find out. Oh dear God.
She fumbled the door open with shaky fingers.
His eyes snapped to hers in the opening of the door. She kept it mostly closed, peeked out through the opening. “Nate.”
Nate studied the pretty face that appeared in the opening of the door. Cheeks flushed and glowing, dark hair curling around her face, she apparently had been having a shower or something.
“I came at a bad time.”
“Um…” She bit her lip, looking adorably uncertain. She stayed behind the door. He could see she wore a robe, thick pink fabric bunched at her throat, covering her completely—so why was she hiding?
“I’m just surprised to see you.”
“Yeah.” Hell, he was surprised, too.
“What are you doing here?”
He glanced behind him. “Uh…do we want to discuss this in the hall?”
Her eyes closed briefly. “No. Of course not.” She looked almost…afraid. Was she afraid of him? “Come in.” She stood back and pulled the door open. He walked in, looked around him at her apartment.
The only light in the small room came from the Christmas tree sparkling in the corner. It illuminated the leather couch, which he recognized from their house, and a rocking chair he didn’t recognize. The place was nice, just…bare. And small. A far cry from the huge five-bedroom house on the beach she and Derek had occupied. Something poked at his heart to see her living like this.
