Down Too Deep (Dirty Deeds, #4)(18)

“You said you’re friends with Tori and them, so I’m sure you know what happened to my wife,” Nathan said, passing the bathroom and Marley’s nursery. “Did one of them tell you?”

“They mentioned how she died, yes.”

“I was upset at first, of course—my wife was dead. I found her. Then, almost immediately, I got really fucking angry.” He stopped at one of the closed doors.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “You found her?”

Nathan looked down at me, hand on the knob, not turning.

“I didn’t know that,” I quickly said. “I really don’t know much about what happened…hardly anything. I—”

“She took a bottle of pills while I was at work. I found her in the bathroom.”

Breath left my body. I suddenly felt dizzy.

“God, Nathan, I’m so sorry.” Instinctually, I reached out and wrapped my hand around his wrist, nearly touching his hand, but then I second-guessed my action and swiftly pulled back. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

His eyes narrowed slightly and his gaze intensified, as if he were examining me. Then he looked away and pushed the door open, stepping inside the room. I followed behind him.

It was a bedroom, although I could barely see the bed. Boxes were everywhere—on the floor, covering the bare mattress, stacked high beside the dresser. None of them labeled and all of them overflowing.

“Like I said, I got angry after Sadie died. This is all her stuff. There are pictures in one of these boxes.” Nathan rubbed at his neck, a short, deep chuckle leaving him. “I think I knew I didn’t have any fucking right being mad at her, and that’s why I kept everything instead of getting rid of it. Even her clothes.” He gestured at a box with a shirtsleeve hanging out over the side. “I kept everything. I shut it up in here so I wouldn’t have to look at it.”

I moved beside him, looked around the room once more, and then stared at his profile, waiting. I knew he had more to tell me. He didn’t make me wait long.

“She never told me she was depressed,” he shared. “I didn’t even know she was taking medication until I found the empty bottle. Apparently, she started going to a therapist right after Marley was born. I was angry with her for not telling me.”

“Are you still angry with her?”

“No,” he answered immediately, meeting my gaze.

Relief filled me, not just for Marley but for Nathan as well. I didn’t know much about depression, or mental illness for that matter, but I did know one thing. And I needed to make sure he knew it too.

“I think there’s this stigma attached to depression, where the person can feel ashamed or embarrassed, and maybe that’s why they suffer alone. Not that they should feel that way. They just do.”

“She tried to tell me.” His voice grew quiet. “In a way, she did. I just didn’t listen to her.” His jaw twitched, as if he was clenching his teeth or grinding them. He looked out at the boxes again. “I didn’t realize it at first. I know now. I’ve known, and this shit is still in here. I’ve avoided everything because I’m terrified to deal with it. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

His vulnerability drew me nearer. I stepped closer, fingers knotting together at my stomach so I wouldn’t reach out. The urge to hold on to him again overwhelmed me, but I didn’t know if I could do that. I didn’t know if I should. I considered us friends at this point. Or at the very least friendly. If I needed comfort and Nathan offered it, I wouldn’t think it was strange or wrong. So why was I holding back with him? I shouldn’t. Still, I did. I kept hesitating. But I wouldn’t stand there and remain silent. I knew how I felt about this, and I wanted him to know it too.

“You’re dealing with it now, right? You’re changing your schedule so you can spend more time with Marley—”

“After avoiding her for most of her life,” he interrupted. Our eyes met. “I checked out, Jenna. You see how much I’m gone—I’ve done that for nearly two years.”

“There’s no rule book on how you should grieve, Nathan. You did it the right way for you.”

“How was this the right way?”

“You made sure Marley was taken care of. She had your parents, right? She’s a very loved little girl. I can tell. You cared enough to make sure she was getting that when not all fathers go to those lengths. Some don’t even ask about their kids. I understand being angry or ashamed about how long you took to get here, but you’re here now. And that’s going to be what matters to Marley.”

Nathan’s chest heaved with slow, heavy breaths. He didn’t speak, and I wondered if he was waiting for more, for something else to reassure him. I thought about his humiliation when I asked about the pictures, about the boxes still being in here. How he couldn’t answer every question I had about Marley yet.

I knew what he was waiting for.

I quit fighting and second-guessing and finally reached out, squeezing that same spot on his wrist I’d touched before.

“You’re not too late. Not for any of this,” I said.

He blinked hard after I spoke, dropping his head.

“I promise, Nathan. You aren’t.”

“I want that to be true,” he nearly whispered.

“I know. And that’s another thing that’s going to matter. Not all fathers would be worried they’d missed their chance.”