“Mase has the whole family on the approved list.”
I nod in understanding because that makes total sense. The Davenport-Morales family are still like a second family to Mase.
“So…I’m not sure where to start, Nate.”
He holds my eyes over his glass and sips it slowly before speaking. “Can we take one minute to talk like none of this is between us?”
“I don’t think?—”
“Tell me how you’ve been. Tell me something new.”
Tell me something new.
His words pull me back in time, to a younger us, when our only worries were loving each other from afar.
He must realize what he said. “Shit, Maddie. I didn’t mean to make this weird. I know I have a lot to explain, trust me. But I’m struggling here because I hate that the person in front of me is a stranger. I hate that I did that. I hate that you moved on.” Hisvoice cracks at the last part, and it’s a straight shot to my chest. “Forget I said anything. I’ll start explaining.”
He opens his mouth to continue, and I blurt out, “I still work with glass.”
Nate smiles softly.
I, of course, don’t tell him about my private career, but it feels nice to share something with him.
“That’s great, Mads. You’ve always been so talented.”
I lean back and get more comfortable. Sitting here with Nate is strange, but not in a bad way. Strange because it’s almost too familiar, as if ten years haven’t passed.
Last month, last week, even, I would have never thought this possible. I hated him with every fiber of my being, or at least that’s what I told myself.
Now, I don’t know if it’s because Mase took some of the blame off Nate, or maybe being together after all this time has healed something inside of me.
I’ll never know.
But one thing Idoknow is that, despite my earlier impression of Nate’s dominant presence, I’m happy to report that, from the few minutes we’ve spent together, I know in my heart that he is still the caring, beautiful boy I once knew.
“Do you still sail?”
“No. Not competitively, at least.” He mimics my comfortable position. I don’t miss the wistfulness that reflects in his eyes when he answers. “When we started M-Squared, I couldn’t find the time anymore. Maybe I’ll go back to it one day. I still have a boat, a better one from when I was younger, and I take Claud out often.”
“I saw a picture with a sparkly life vest on. She’s adorable.”
He nods, and an awkward silence hangs between us.
“This is fucking painful. I’m going to just explain my side and get it over with.” He blows out a deep breath. “You’d thinkI would have this memorized by now, with the number of times I’ve tried to talk to you.”
Suddenly, I feel guilty.
“Don’t make that face, Mads. You never had an obligation to listen. I always knew there could be a chance you’d never want to talk to me again. I never wanted to believe it, but I knew it.”
“So why?” My voice breaks, my emotions quickly unraveling. “You hurt me, Nate. You were the one person who was never supposed to do that.”
“It was a lose-lose situation. If you stayed with me, I would have hurt you, albeit indirectly, but you would have suffered because of me either way. You have to understand my only goal in life was to take care of you.”
“You’re making no sense, Nate.”
“God, hearing you say my name after so long does something to me, Mads. Feels fucking good.”
I know exactly what he means, but I don’t admit how much this short conversation has impacted me, how much it resembles something like home. Because, at my core, I might be feeling nostalgic, but the bandage holding my heart together could rip open at any point.
