Down Too Deep (Dirty Deeds, #4)(90)

Like he always did, Nathan walked us to the door. I hit the button on the key fob once I stepped out onto the porch, unlocking the car for Olivia.

“Bye, guys!” she hollered, sprinting across the yard, her duffle bouncing against her hip.

I faced Nathan when he stepped outside and considered what I wanted to say to him. I still felt caught in this weird state of shock. I replayed our conversation, obsessing over it as words stuck to my tongue. Why was it suddenly so difficult to talk to the one person I never had any difficulty speaking to?

“You don’t need to keep Marley for me on Saturday,” Nathan said, saving us from the awkward silence we were being swallowed up in. “I’m going to take off work for a few days. Maybe more, I don’t know. I just need some time with her.”

I nodded tightly. “Sure. Of course.”

I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. I wanted to help him. Not just in terms of watching Marley. I wanted to help him through this. Despite how things transpired tonight.

“Nathan, I know tonight was…difficult and didn’t…I mean, I know it didn’t help, but you can always talk to me.”

He tilted his head. I didn’t know if he was about to turn down my offer or ask me to stop talking altogether at this point, but I kept going. I had to get this out.

“You can talk to me about anything. I just need you to know that, okay? I don’t want you thinking you need to go through this alone, or anything alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here. What I said upstairs—I didn’t mean that. I would never mean that. Ever. I—I…” My voice broke. “I’m so, so sorry. I hate that I said that to you.”

Tears pricked at my eyes and spilled onto my cheeks. I couldn’t help my emotions. I felt raw and exposed, like I’d been split open. That conversation had kicked the shit out of me.

Nathan didn’t contest what I was saying. He didn’t speak at all. He stepped in, wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, and pulled me against his chest. His breath pushed through my hair.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

His arm tightened around me.

I molded to him, gripping his shirt and back. I’d never hugged him so tight, and I wanted to stretch this out, but he wanted me to go. When I anticipated the end of our embrace and tried to pull back, Nathan shocked me by holding on, prolonging our hug.

I clung to him before. I could’ve sworn he was the one doing it now.

“Nathan.” I peered up at his jaw. “I can stay. I don’t have to go yet.” I held my breath. Please ask me to stay.

He shook his head and let his arm drop. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” My heart took another hit.

Stepping back, I regarded him. I felt like I was suddenly wearing a mask, hiding my disappointment and the hurt filling me. It took everything inside of me to pretend I was okay with leaving, when in reality I felt the furthest from it.

“Jenna, wook. See?” Marley held out her hand, showing off her nails.

It was hard to believe that was how today had started—Shay taking the girls to get manicures. The hours with Nathan I had that followed and everything we’d shared. How loved I’d felt and how in love with him I’d fallen.

Our day together felt like a lifetime ago.





Chapter Twenty-Two





NATHAN




I stood on the porch until Jenna’s car disappeared. Then I carried Marley inside and fought every urge I had to pull the phone from my pocket and call Jenna to come back.

But I couldn’t. It was bad enough forgetting the anniversary of my wife’s death, but having Jenna know I’d forgotten? Having her be the one to remind me? I’d never felt shame like this, and I’d felt it on an unbelievable level when it came to Sadie.

I didn’t want to see anyone tonight. I didn’t want to speak to anyone either. My parents had offered to come over when I returned my dad’s call earlier. Davis had as well. I’d declined everyone.

The only person I could be around right now was Marley. I carried her upstairs and sat with her in the rocker, reading story after story until she pulled me to the floor. Marley collected toys and dropped them in my lap. She smiled and giggled as we played.

For a moment, I think we both forgot how badly I continued to let her down.

That night, I barely slept. I sat in Marley’s room long after she’d fallen asleep. I didn’t want to leave her. And I didn’t want to close my eyes anyway. I was certain of the dream I would have, but when I drifted off, seated in the rocker, it was Marley I dreamed about.

I saw my daughter years from now. Older and able to understand what today was. I pictured her grief and the overwhelming anger she would feel. I watched her grow up and go through it alone, because in this nightmare I continued to forget.

Fear became my motivation. I stirred awake at four in the morning and lifted Marley out of her crib. I spoke promises to her as she slept. I told her how sorry I was for not making today about her and shared memories of Sadie as the sun came up.

Marley woke hours later with my voice in her ear. She rubbed her sleepy face against my chest, then wiggled out of my hold and guided me to play.

I should’ve felt relieved. She wasn’t angry with me or sad. She didn’t act disappointed, and over the next few days we became closer. Inseparable. I spent every waking moment with my daughter and prolonged our time together until sleep became a necessity. I cut off everyone but her. I ignored every call and text. I got coverage for work and made arrangements so I didn’t need to leave her. I did what I should’ve been doing all along…I made Marley my life. So I didn’t understand why I still felt like I was messing up. I couldn’t shake my failure. I held on to it.