“You can,” I assure him.“If you want to.We’re friends now, right?”
One side of his mouth quirks.“Yeah.Friends.”He sighs and meets my eyes.“Okay.I know this will stay between us.”It’s a statement rather than a question; he knows he doesn’t have to ask.That small act of trust makes me feel light and bubbly inside, even though I suspect I’m not going to love what he’s about to tell me.
He shifts his chair nearer to mine.He’s so close now, I can smell his cedarwood and peppermint scent, paired with apple and coffee.It’s an oddly tantalizing combination.
“Aneesha and I had a…friends-with-benefits thing for a while,” he says.“We kept bumping into each other, and eventually had coffee together.We commiserated about the minuscule dating pool in town, and how hard it was to date here when you’ve known just about everyone your whole life.After a few more coffee meet-ups, we agreed we had chemistry, but neither of us was interested in anything other than a bit of fun.It only lasted a few months, and it was a mutual decision to end things before they got potentially messy.”
“Messy as in feelings getting involved?”I ask.
“Mainly, yeah.She always made it clear that her daughter was her top priority, and I respected that.Especially…” He motions to where Thea was sitting earlier, and I understand what he’s implying: Thea and Liam’s mom was a single mother too, and never made them a priority.“We decided it was smarter and safer to stick with being friends.”
I make a quiet hum of acknowledgement.
“Does that make you see me differently?”he asks.
“What?No, of course not.”
And yet, in a weird way, it does.It somehow makes Nathan more…human?It also makes me realize how much Nathan has changed over the years.It’s nearly impossible for me to imagine him having casual sex.Mum always said Nathan and Liam were made for loving.They’re the kind of men who want to build something with a partner and create a family, whatever that might look like.
“You sure?”he asks when I fall silent without meaning to.He’s smiling slightly, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
“Positive,” I say firmly.“I’m just realizing how much you’ve changed over the years, and how much I’ve missed.I thoughtIhad changed, but you proved I’m still the same rainbow-loving, pizza-crust-first girl I always was.”He laughs under his breath, and the soft sound eases some of the tightness in my chest.“But there are all these big things I missed or had no clue about, like you learning to play piano or your trip to Ireland.Or the depths of your relationship with my parents.”
He nods, dropping his gaze to his hands, which are folded on the table.
“None of that isbadand I’m not placing any blame,” I say quickly.“You and I didn’t keep in touch, and my parents avoided talking about you because of our history.I often asked how you were doing, but they kept it surface level, so I only ever knew basic things.”
“I get it,” he says.“We were so young when we were together.We’ve both lived a lot of life between then and now.For what it’s worth, I’m basically still the same person.”
I stare into his familiar blue-grey eyes.I used to think nobody saw me in quite the same way Nathan did.Sitting here now, I realize that’s still true.“You are, and you aren’t.”
“Same goes for you.I guess that’s the whole point of this friendship thing, though, huh?Getting to know each other as we are now.”Before I can respond, his phone chimes in his pocket.“Duty calls,” he says without looking at it.
We rise from the table at the same time.The café has gotten busier in the last twenty minutes or so, and a trio of teens swoop in, hovering nearby until we move out of the way.Mum is no longer behind the counter, but I decide not to seek her out since I’ll see her later.Nathan places a hand on the small of my back as we weave through the crowd toward the door.
“Need a ride somewhere?”he asks as we step outside.
“Thanks, but I’ll walk.I’m stiff from sitting for so long.”
We stand and stare at each other for several long moments.I’m not sure which one of us cracks first, but suddenly we’re both laughing at our awkwardness.
“Okay,” he says.“Going now.”He turns toward where his truck is parked, but stops before he takes a step.“Maybe we could go for a drive or something some night?”
His words stir up memories of us as teens.Before we got together, an invitation like that would have sent my heart racing with excitement.Evenafterwe got together, there was always an element of anticipation at the thought of being alone with Nathan.With all the recent realizations of things that have both changed and stayed the same, I’m not sure how I feel about the butterflies currently taking flight in my stomach.
“Yeah,” I say.“I’ll bring the Hawkins Cheezies?”
“Only if you want to eat them with your head hanging out the window so you don’t cover my truck in orange dust,” he says with a grin that makes my stomach flip.Without waiting for a response, he waves and heads for his truck.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN ~ FIONA
I woke up to Nathan playing “Für Elise” on the piano again this morning.I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, and letting a cascade of emotions wash over me.It was a bittersweet mix of sadness and gratitude.The deep, indescribable ache of missing Dad, paired with appreciation for all he left behind, all he taught us, and a love that will never die.
I drifted off after the song transitioned into one I didn’t recognize, and woke again a while later to a quiet house and the scent of coffee.
Downstairs, I find Mum and Nathan sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast.Acookedbreakfast: eggs, bacon, and toast.Growing up, cooked breakfasts in the Murphy house were a rarity.Mum’s day at Sweet Escapes started early, and Dad always said his most productive time to write was in the morning, so he’d often be locked in his office from sunup until at least noon.Cooked breakfasts were reserved for slow Sundays, holidays, and special occasions.
For a second, I worry I’ve gotten my days mixed up, and it’s actually the twenty-first instead of the twentieth.A glance at my smartwatch assures me it’s the twentieth and thereforenotNathan’s birthday.
