I nodded, though I was on high alert now.
Nathan sighed again, and then tried to smile and tease me. “Although, I don’t see why you had to go get groceries thismorning, if this was the plan.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you lost your key.”
“I found it,” I said, hoping that would cheer him up. I ran over to my purse and dug out the key for proof. “See? It had slipped between my seat and the console when I grabbed my purse to go into the store. I didn’t realize it. But once I got home and unloaded the car, I did a deep search. And here it is!” I dug back into my purse. “And here is yours. I’ll put it in the dish for you so you have it for tomorrow.”
His posture softened, and he shook his head on a smile. “You are adorable, you know that?”
My smile felt forced as he crossed the room and pulled me into him for a hug.
“I know this has all been unexpected and fast — the move to Tampa, taking over the team. And I know you were sad to leave Sketch In behind.”
Sketch In — the nonprofit organization Nathan had not so subtly suggested I get involved with because it would look good for him. I did love the kids there, and I loved any chance I had to work with the community, but it hadn’t been my baby. It hadn’t been my choice.
Nothing ever was, anymore.
“But this is a big step, Ariana — for both of us. For our family. I want us ready. I want you to feel like you’re part of it.”
He pulled back and traced his fingers down my arms until our hands were clasped.
“You just need a little purpose again,” he murmured. “That’s all. I can help with that. I know what you need.”
My stomach dropped, twisting sourly as a tight knot spread low in my gut. Part of me recoiled. I wanted to pull away, to tell him he was wrong, that he didn’t get to decide that for me. But another part of me already knew it was useless. There was no winning here.
Shame curled through me like smoke, hot and suffocating, and I shoved it down, forcing my face into an expression of agreeable neutrality.
My throat tightened. “Nathan—”
“Leave it with me, my love. I’ll take care of you.” He hit me with the same smile that had swept me off my feet years ago, the one that promised safety. “For now, come to bed.”
I hesitated, but the air between us had already shifted. I knew we were dancing on that delicate line between calm and mayhem.
So I nodded.
He brushed a kiss against my forehead and led me down the hall. My nostalgic playlist crooned on, muffled by the closing door. And as his hands found me, I floated somewhere far away — thinking only of the shattered mug on the floor and the way I’d sweep it up when we were done, pretending it was the only thing that had broken tonight.
Back to Life
Ariana
2007
The next two weeks were the best two weeks of my life.
Shane was locked into hockey, the Eagles laser-focused on the possibility of clutching the championship. But any time he wasn’t on the ice, he was with me.
Growing up, I was used to being ignored. My dad left when I was a baby. My stepfather pretended to like me only long enough to get my mother to marry him, and then he promptly showed his true distaste for me and all children. He preferred I be in my bedroom once he got home from work so he could watch TV undisturbed. Sometimes, I’d go out in the living room and try to talk to my mom, and he’d scream at me, and then at her, and sometimes the screaming would evolve into something worse.
I learned to just stay away.
I was used to being on my own. I didn’t mind going to my room. It was safe there. I had my music and my books. I could make bookmarks and talk on the phone to the few friends I had.
But I got lonely sometimes.
When George was born, I spent a lot of time with him. My stepfather wasn’t exactly thrilled at his arrival, and he didn’t love when my mother doted over their son. He felt like the baby was stealing his attention.
So, most nights, I would be with Georgie — rocking him, feeding him, playing with him, getting him to sleep. He slept in a crib in my room, and I loved having him there.
“Sometimes I feel guilty for leaving him,” I told Shane one night. We were curled up together in my tiny twin bed, his long legs hanging off the end of it. He quietly ran his fingers over my back and gave me space to talk out what I was feeling. “I mean, he’s okay. Jay has never hurt him. But he’s older now, you know? I think he’s starting to understand what’s going on around him. He hears the yelling, sees what Jay does to Mom.” I shivered, tucking myself into a ball at Shane’s side. I’d never told anyone the real, raw truth of my family dynamics. It felt both terrifying and liberating to have someone to share with now. “He’s delayed in speaking. I think it’s because any time he hears someone talk, it’s bad.”
