“Well, I owe you. The least I can do is have some food ready for you.”
“Berry, you don’t owe me a thing. What else are friends for?”
“Sure,” I reply as I take his plate out of the microwave.
“Is that lasagna?”
“You know it.”
“Your parents do love us. There’s enough for both of us, right?”
“There is.”
“I’ve gotta tell them thank you,” he replies. “I’ll set the table.”
I can’t help but smile. This is so easy with him. Why the hell would I ever give it up? This, right here, is why I’m dealing with all the guilt. And it’s worth it.
By the time I bring both plates out, Nate has napkins and silverware ready to go.
“Want a Coke?” he asks. When I nod, he disappears only for a second and is back with our drinks.
“How was everything?” I ask coolly as I sit. My voice sounds almost normal, but I’m staring at the melted cheese on top of my lasagna, not him.
“Do you really wanna do this again? Last time didn’t go so well.”
I’d asked yesterday and nearly broke down in tears. “I’m doing better today.”
“Youseemlike you are,” he says.
My spine straightens. Of course he would pick up on the fact that I’m pretending.
“How mad is Andrea today?” I ask. There’s no better way to prove I’m fine than to talk about the woman who’s been a thorn in my side for months.
He blows out a breath. “As angry as always.”
My face falls against my will. I already want to run and hide at the mention of Andrea being angry.
Tapping on the table, I think about the run I’ll need to go on to process this. Who knew ending a wedding would fill me with such anxious energy?
“Maisie,” Nate says softly. “They’ll get over it.”
“I know,” I say. “Did you see Quinn?”
“For a moment.”
“And?”
“Quinn’s fine. Still not mad at you. She never would be.”
“I know. I just ... need the reminder.”
Nate reaches over and goes to put a hand on my shoulder. I pause as I remember when I’d been in his arms two days before. A hand on the shoulder is nothing compared to a hug, but I’ll take it. But before he touches me, he stops and pulls away.
My stomach sinks. I want the contact, but now that I think about it, Nate and I don’t tend to touch very often. When we were younger, things weren’t like that.
When did they change?
“Maisie, you’re doing the right thing. You know that, right?”
