Chapter Twenty
Cory
IhearNatecursing in the kitchen when I step into the Ball House. I thought I was ready to talk to him, but now that we’re alone, and after watching him outside, I don’t know why I’m here. Actually, I know exactly why I’m here, but I’m not sure why I thought it was a good idea. I need to leave.
The back door slams shut, drawing Nate’s attention, and I freeze. Emotion plays out all over his face, and I feel my heart start to crack. Taking a deep breath, I walk toward him, watching him closely as I mentally prepare myself for everything he’s going to say. But when I’m standing in front of him, the only word that leaves his mouth is… “Cory.”
I hold my emotions at bay, offering him a “Nate” in return, and when he opens his mouth to speak, I cut him off, wanting to be the first to talk.I need to know if this is all my fault.
“I know we have a lot to say to each other, but first, I’m sorry if I’m the one that caused the mess you’re in.”
Nate stares at me in confusion.
“If I caused you to… ah… take something.”
His shoulders drop a little, but I can’t tell why. “Nah, that’s just my stupidity. You know… Embracing single life and all that.” He shrugs.
Ouch! He’s moved on. I knew it was a possibility, but I’d hoped... My chest tightens as my pulse quickens. I somehow manage to keep my cool on the outside, maintaining my indifference, while inside, I’m hurting. “Yes, of course. Okay. Well, that’s all I wanted to say, then.” Total lie and he knows it. “I’m going to go.”
I turn away before my facade cracks and walk toward the door, only making it halfway across the room when Nate calls out, and I break.
“Cory, wait! Please. Don’t go.” His voice wavers with emotion, but all I can do is stand frozen in place, in complete limbo.
“Please,” Nate says again, making me jump when I realize he’s suddenly right behind me, so close that he’s almost touching me. His warm breath blows across my neck and my traitorous body shivers at the feel of it. “Please don’t go. We need to talk.” His voice breaks again and I give in.
I turn around, and my breath hitches at the sight of him up close. His bloodshot eyes mixed with disheveled hair and a pale face make him look ill. But it’s the pleading look he’s giving me, and the shallow breathing that really has me concerned. He’s in no state to talk. Of that, I’m sure.
“Nate, I think anything that needs to be said should wait until you’re sober.”
He runs a hand down his face, shaking his head. When he looks back at me, his eyes are glassy. “I know. I know! But I’m so fucking scared that if you walk out that door, I’ll never see you again.”
My heart clenches and I swallow a lump in my throat. With everything that happened, I wanted to hate him. Hate him for the pain he caused, hate him for making me question our relationship, hate him for not fighting for us when I called it quits. But, as much as I tried, I couldn’t hate him because I love him so much.
“Nate,” I start, not really sure what I’m going to say. “I—”
“Stay, please. It’s not that late, and the party’s still going. Let me sleep it off.”
Tears prick my eyes as I stare at the devastation in his. “Sleep it off? Nate, I need to go home so I can sleep. It’s late for me. I’m emotionally burnt out. I can’t...” I turn to walk away before the tears fall.
“Sleep here!” Nate calls desperately. “Take my bed, lock the door. I’ll sleep on the couch. Please. Just don’t walk out that door.”
If I was made of glass, this would be the moment I shattered.
“Okay,” I whisper before I’ve thought it through.
His eyes rise to mine in shock, causing my chest to tighten at the glimmer of hope I see there.
Without another word, Nate links our fingers and walks towards his room. He unlocks the door, holding it open for me to step inside before placing the key in my palm. The room is exactly as I remember it. In fact, nothing has changed. A photo of us is still displayed on his desk, and a pair of my shoes lay on the floor at the foot of his bed.
I can’t do this. Why did I think I could do this? My throat constricts, and I clench my teeth, hoping to stop the flow of emotion. Walk away, Nate. Please, walk away.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, and I almost sigh in relief.
“Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The second the door shuts, I drop onto the bed and burst into tears.