Mila knows about my theory that Nathan has been avoiding me since the other night, so I’m sure this is her way of trying to lure him over here.At this point, I’ll take any excuse to see him, so I pull out my phone and text him.
Fiona:Mila made goulash for dinner.I’ve had a few sneaky tastes, and it’s amazing.Want to join us?
He replies almost immediately.
Nathan:Can’t tonight.Sorry.
That’s it.No explanation.Not that he owes me one, but I thought he might offersomething.I’m about to put my phone away when it vibrates again.
Nathan:Rain cheque?And I wouldn't say no if you ladies wanted to save me some leftovers…
Fiona:You got it.
Feeling bolstered by my successful conversation with Mum, I take a chance and type another message.Mila and I are leaving in a few days, and I need to talk to Nathan.
Fiona:Are you free later, say around 9?Could you meet me in the treehouse for a bit?There’s something important I want to talk to you about.
The little checkmark pops up almost instantly, showing he’s read it.I fidget with my phone as one minute passes, then another.Mum returns to the kitchen, and Mila starts dishing up the goulash.I’m about to put my phone away when it buzzes once more.
Nathan:I’ll be there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ~ FIONA
I’m so caught up in pacing around the treehouse, I don’t hear Nathan approaching until the door swings open.I nearly trip over my own feet at the sight of him filling the doorway.He lingers there for a moment, giving me the impression he’s debating whether to come inside or leave without a word.
Finally, he steps over the threshold and closes the door.I can see him more clearly now; he looks as tired as he did yesterday when I ran into him at the café.His hair is dishevelled, and his golden brown stubble is thicker.There are wood shavings and sawdust on his jeans and plaid shirt, which tells me he’s been in his woodshop.He told me once that woodworking is his form of meditation; when he’s working with his hands, the whole world quiets and narrows down to whatever he’s creating.
I want to eradicate the distance between us, to dive into his arms and breathe in his cedar and peppermint scent.I want to fuse my mouth to his and kiss him as if my life depends on it.But his closed-off vibes—hands jammed in his pockets, the way he’s shifting from foot to foot but not moving any closer to me—has me staying where I am.
“Thanks for coming,” I say.
“Sure.Sorry I’ve been…” He pulls one hand from his pocket and waves it around in front of him, then runs it roughly through his hair.
“Avoiding me?”
He stares steadily at me for a long moment before giving a jerky nod.“Guess there’s no use denying it.I thought putting some space between us before you leave would make things easier.Then I realized I need to be an adult about it and talk to you.”
I latch onto one main part of what he said.“Before I leave?”
He’s talked about me leaving before, even asked when I was going, but something about the way he said it just now hits differently.
His sigh sounds as weary as he looks.“It’s okay, Fiona.I heard you on the phone with Mila the night we…the other night.”
“Oh.Right.”I want to ask why he didn’t say anything that night, but then I remember him asking me to stay with him for a bit longer, and feeling certain the words had a deeper meaning.“It’s not what you think, though.I’m not taking off for the hell of it or because I’m tired of being here.Mila and I have been dealing with some stuff at On the Go, and we’re going to London to resign and pack up our stuff.Dad left us both money, and we’re planning to start our own travel business.”
A myriad of emotions race over Nathan’s face.The shock and disappointment aren’t exactly a surprise, but the pride that settles on his faceis.“Wow, Fi, that’s incredible.Good for you.”
I smile and try to thank him, but the words stick in my throat.My mind keeps going back to that flash of disappointment.
We both speak at the same time:
“I guess it’s time for us to end this—”
“I think we should stick with the pause—wait, what?”I ask, realizing what Nathan said.
“We need to end whatever this is between us,” he says.“It’s been…fun…” It seems like a struggle for him to get the word out, as if he’s saying it under duress.“But we need to hit the stop button permanently.No more pauses.We always knew your time here was temporary.This isn’t your real life, Fiona.It was a layover.”
The travel-related joke would be funny under different circumstances.Instead, it feels like a punch to the gut, especially when paired with the sad tilt to Nathan’s lips.
