Page 166 of At First Catch

The softness in his voice stops me.

“What?”

He studies me for a second, as though he’s trying to find the exact words, then he pulls my hand against his chest.

“Thank you for coming.”

His sincere look causes a tremor within me.

I squeeze his fingers.

“You don’t have to thank me for showing up.”

Something vulnerable flickers behind his eyes. Maybe a part of him still believes he does. Maybe it will take time before he fully trusts that loving him means showing up without needing to be asked.

So I step back into his arms and let him hold me for another quiet moment.

The investor meeting still happened. The decision still waits. Nothing has magically become easier. But standing there with Nolan beneath the dock lights, I know one thing with absolute certainty. Whatever he decides, he won’t have to protect this life alone.

Chapter Twenty-One

HADLEY

The first real crack appears on a Tuesday night. Small enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice it at all. But I know Nolan now. And loving someone means eventually learning the difference between quiet and hiding.

I sit cross-legged on the couch in the marina apartment, waiting for him to come upstairs, letting my thoughts run wild.

Again.

Rain rattles against the windows overlooking Back Bay while dock lights shimmer gold across the dark water below. The apartment smells like takeout growing cold on the coffee table and Nolan’s cologne lingering faintly from this morning.

Ten thirty.

Too late.

Especially considering he texted Be upstairs in 20, over an hour ago.

My stomach twists uneasily. Not because I think he’s avoiding me intentionally. Because lately, he sinks into stress rather than share it.

And every time it happens, I can feel him slipping emotionally just a little farther away before pulling himself back again.

Down below, voices drift faintly across the marina before a truck engine starts near the western slips, then finally—footsteps on the exterior stairs.

Relief loosens through me.

The apartment door opens a second later. Nolan steps inside, carrying paperwork and tension, as if both weighed the same, while rainwater darkens the shoulders of his marina jacket.

And guilt flickers through me for being upset at all. Because he looks worn down in ways he tries very hard to hide.

His eyes find mine.

“Hey,” he says.

Warmth spreads through my chest despite everything.

“Hey.”

Nolan drops paperwork onto the kitchen counter before scrubbing one hand across his jaw.