Last Summer(76)

“I’m scrapping my dinner and jazz club plans. I think I’ll take her to Lucky Strike, then the Metreon.”

Ella grins. “Bowling and a movie.” A date right up Andrew’s alley. “You and Corey will have a blast.”

“Think so?”

“Know so, because she’ll be with you.” Ella stands and helps her brother out of the blazer. “Go pay for these so you can get ready for your date. When you want to introduce us, Damien and I would love to have you and Corey over for dinner.”

“Thanks for your help today. I know you’re busy and all with your deadline.”

“No, thank you.” Andrew showed her what she should have done with Damien since day one. But first, someone else needs her honesty.





CHAPTER 33

One Week Later

Mid-April 2019

She thought about meeting him at a café near Union Square. She considered a restaurant off Highway 80, somewhere in Roseville, midway between them. He doesn’t like crowds and she doesn’t want to draw attention and invite media speculation. The photo of her and Nathan at Alpine Mountaineering might be last week’s news, but it’s still circulating. It surfaced in her news feed just yesterday morning. In the end, Ella settled on going to him.

A patchwork of snow decorates the ground around Nathan’s house like a winter quilt. The scent of pine and dirt with a hint of woodsmoke saturates the cool afternoon air. Nathan meets her on his porch, decked in his standard issue of jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt.

“Hi,” he says when she reaches the top step.

“Hi.” She musters a smile, keeping a polite distance. Despite how they left things in Alaska, she still wants to feel his arms around her. But that’s not why she’s here.

“About Alaska,” she begins, ready to get this over with. She has a flight to catch. She also doesn’t trust herself around him.

“I’m sorry,” he says in earnest.

“Me too.”

A breeze ruffles her hair. Nathan smooths it away from her face. His touch is fleeting, unexpected, and her body reacts immediately. He smiles, knowing exactly what he’s doing to her.

“Do you want to come inside?” he invites, gesturing at the door behind him.

“Sure. I promise not to take up too much of your time.”

She follows him into the house. Fred and Bing greet her with lolling tongues and wagging tails. Ella doles out some affection before they wander over to the fireplace and collapse on their pillow beds, resuming their afternoon nap.

“Coffee?” Nathan asks.

“No, thanks.”

He gestures at the sectional. He settles into the chair opposite her. A restless energy rolls off him.

“So, um . . . why are you here?” he asks.

“I finished your article. My editor has it now. The issue’s printing as we speak. You’ll be on the cover.” She fishes in her shoulder bag for the manila folder she brought with her. Rising from her seat, she gives it to him. “I wanted you to read it before it hit the newsstands.”

“You could have emailed it,” he says, taking the folder.

True, but she didn’t write it to appeal to Stephanie as Nathan had wanted. She wrote it for him, and she wants him to know that before the magazine is published.

Nathan flips open the folder and skims the title page. Adventure’s End: A Grieving Father’s Tribute to His Son. He snaps the folder closed and tosses it aside.

“Aren’t you going to read it?”

“Later.” He regards her coolly. “I want to talk about us.”

“Us? There can’t be an us.” She holds up a hand when his mouth parts and continues before he can challenge her. “I’m sorry about Alaska and everything that I let happen between us, but we’re married to other people.”

“I’m divorcing my wife. I want to be with you.”

“I don’t know what promises I made to you before, but I’m not leaving my husband. I love him.”

“And me? Do you . . .” He falters, looks down at the floor before trying again. “Do you love me?”

“I . . .” She stops, catching herself before she says the words I don’t love you. Almost the exact words her mom shouted at her dad that fateful Thanksgiving night.

Bite your tongue, Ella.

Nathan watches her expectantly. Ella realizes there’s no easy way to tell him. There’s never an easy way when it comes to matters of the heart, especially when one’s heart is being worn on his navy-blue flannel sleeve, as in Nathan’s case.

Ella chooses her words carefully, and she chooses to be honest. “I care about you, Nathan. I care about you a great deal. More than I should.”

He makes a pained sound deep in his throat. “Then why not follow through on it?”

“I can’t. I mean, I won’t. I believe you when you say I loved you once. But I don’t remember how I felt about you. I don’t feel that way now.” She whispers the last admission.

He watches her quietly. He looks as if he doubts her. She shifts, uncomfortable under his gaze.

Ella looks at her hands in her lap.

“Simon was yours.”

When she doesn’t hear a response from Nathan, she lifts her head to make sure he heard her. He did. His face has gone white. He squeezes his clasped hands so tightly together that Ella can see the whites of his knuckles from where she sits.