He kisses me, and his cheek is smooth. He smells of shaving soap. “Sorry I’m late, but I went to the mall to get you a new phone.” He raises a small reusable shopping bag. “I set you up with a better plan than before, and I also got new phones for the kids. Believe it or not, it’ll be even cheaper than before.”
I blink a few times in astonishment. “You’re joking. They’ll be ecstatic.”
“Maybe it’ll earn me some points with them.”
“Oh, it will.” We start walking slowly while I wheel the IV pole beside me. “Thank you so much for doing that. I’ll be glad to have a phone again so I can keep in touch with them.”
“And your husband,” Nate reminds me.
“Of course. You too.”
An alarm goes off in one of the rooms, and a nurse exits a different room to attend to it. After she passes us, Nate says, “I didn’t go to the restaurant, but I was on my phone a lot in the mall, dealing with stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” I ask.
He halts abruptly, meeting my gaze head-on. “Martina emailed me her resignation.”
Stunned, I freeze mid-step. “She did what? Did she at least give you two weeks’ notice?”
“No, but it’s fine,” he replies and drops his gaze to the floor. “Maybe this is a sign that I should take some time off and keep the restaurant closed. Maybe indefinitely. I don’t know yet. All I know is that I want to focus on us.”
My thoughts flash back to the early years of our relationship, when we were young and madly in love. We bonded over our dreams and ambitions. He supported me in mine, and I supported him in his. We were a great team. Until we weren’t.
“Why did she quit?” I ask, curious about her email.
“Because she’s a spoiled diva,” Nate replies.
I can’t help but laugh with satisfaction, hearing him say this. “Please, give me the dirt.”
Nate’s lips curl into a smile. “If I must ... when she announced her resignation on the group chat, a few of the employees sent me private messages, saying they were happy to see her go. Graham called her a manipulative attention-seeker, and one of the bartenders said she always had to be in the spotlight and that she took credit for other people’s accomplishments.”
“Interesting,” I say. “But why did she quit?”
Nate holds nothing back. “Because I called her last night and asked that she keep to a professional tone with her texts, and to not use heart emojis. I didn’t threaten to fire her or anything. I just wanted her to stop doing that. But I guess she was offended.”
I hate to admit it, but this news gives me immense pleasure. “She packed up her toys and stormed off?”
“Pretty much.” Nate and I start walking again. “Now I’m without a house manager.”
“I could do that job, you know,” I tell him. “I know how to run a business, and the kids are more independent now. It might be good for me to get out there in the world again. And good for us.”
He nods nostalgically. “We always did make a good team.”
We stroll the hospital corridor in silence for a while, and I think of everything we’ve been through over the past few days.
“I need to tell you something,” I say.
Nate regards me with a serious expression.
“I’m not sure if Amanda told you about this,” I continue, “but when I was in the water ... or after that ... I don’t know exactly ... I had a near-death experience.”
Nate stops short. A deep crease forms between his brows. “Oh, my God. What happened?”
I shrug because it’s impossible to explain, but I start walking again and do my best. “After I drowned, I saw a light at the water’s surface, and I swam toward it.”
He slowly digests this.
“It felt very real,” I continue, “but now that I’m back here, it feels like a dream. But it was a good dream.”
