And it had been a mistake.
At first, I didn’t think he cared. “You were gone and they invited me,” I’d explained, and he’d acted like it was no big deal. But after a long, quiet dinner, he’d started in on the questions.
“Where was it?”
“How long did you stay?”
“Who was there?”
Every question was careful and calculated, but it was enough for me to know he was building a story in his mind. Somehow, by the end of the conversation, I was backpedaling and trying to justify why I went. I felt guilty.
Me.
The one who was left behind while he went to Vegas for the holiday, who would have spent that holidayalonehad it not been for Shane’s invitation.
But Nathan didn’t care.
He’d have rather me been alone, if his tone was any indication.
And Ishouldhave felt guilty — not for spending Thanksgiving with friends, but for what I did after.
Except I didn’t.
I didn’t feel a single ounce of anything other than longing when it came to what happened with Shane. I wished for a world where I could have stayed right there in his arms, where I could have let him kiss me senseless, where I could have believed him and the notion that it could all be so easy.
“I’d take your hand and run. Tonight. Right now. Without looking back.”
A chain twisted around my heart and pulled tight at the memory of those words, at how desperately I wished for them to be true.
But for the first time since the day Shane McCabe walked away from me, I understood why he did it.
It was the same reason I couldn’t stay, the same reason I couldn’t entertain his offer.
I loved him. Even still, maybe always, I loved him.
And I loved him enough to not let him lose everything that mattered to him just for me.
If I would have let him take me home, if we would have crossed even further over that line between us, everything would have imploded. Nathan would have lost his mind — he already was just with the knowledge that I was in the same household with Shane for Thanksgiving.
“I told you to stay away from him,”he’d seethed.
“He was one of like fifteen people, Nathan,” I’d explained, exasperated. “I was invited and so was he. What was I supposed to do? Walk out because he was there and just spend Thanksgiving by myself?”
“I’m not angry because you went,” he’d said slowly, like he was meticulously picking each word to make sure they hit their mark. “I’m angry because you knew exactly how much it would hurt me — and you decided my feelings mattered less than your discomfort.” He’d tilted his head, looking at me as if he didn’t know me. “That tells me everything I need to know.”
If I were the woman I was even a week ago, he would have achieved his goal. I would have died from guilt and apologized and beat myself up for days, wondering what the hell I was doing.
As it stood now, I only felt suspicious and numb.
But his reaction did solidify the truth in my mind: Nathan would have come after Shane if I were to leave. He would fire him, at the very least, and kill him, at the very worst.
And he wouldn’t just let me go.
There wouldn’t be an easy divorce where we just sign a few pages and go our separate ways. He would make it drag. He would make it hurt.
He’d take everything — including Georgie’s tuition money.
I had nothing without him. I hated that fact, but it was true. My degree was old and unused. Every nonprofit I’d been involved with since we married had been under Nathan’s thumb, which meant he held the key to all my references of the last ten years.
