The Crush

When I opened the door, I froze.

Shit.

Standing before me was the last person I ever expected to see.

I blinked several times. “Nathan…”

His eyes were piercing. “Hi, Jace.”

I swallowed. “Hey.”

“Long time no see.”

My body was rigid. I didn’t know whether to hug him or brace myself for a punch.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Still in shock, I nodded several times before the answer came out. “Uh…yeah.”

Moving aside to let him enter, I immediately noticed he was limping. One of his legs was pretty much dragging the other. Nathan had also gained some weight and looked…rough, for lack of a better word.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

Still struggling to make it to the other side of the room, he said, “I got into an accident two years ago.”

I tensed. “Accident? What kind of accident?”

“I was drunk and got behind the wheel. Stupidest thing I ever did. I was lucky, though. Didn’t kill anyone. But I fucked myself up, and I’ve been out on disability ever since.”

Damn. Things started to add up. My chest hurt. It pained me that I’d had no idea what he’d been through.

“Man, I’m sorry.”

“It’s my own fault. Nothing to be sorry about.” He looked around. “Anyway, I came to tell you that I’m very sorry about your mom. I was shocked to hear.”

“Thank you. We’re still in shock, too.”

He walked over to the couch. “Can I sit?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

As cordial as he was, I waited for the bomb to drop, waited for him to lose it on me. Although, this person didn’t seem like the same Nathan who’d raged at me the last time I saw him.

After he sat, I took a seat on the chair across from him. I stayed silent until he spoke.

“Where’s your dad?” he asked.

“He’s napping.”

Nathan nodded, rubbing his palms together.

A clock ticking in the corner of the room was the only sound. This was awkward as fuck.

“I’m sure you’re…surprised that I’m here,” he finally said.

“That’s an understatement.”

“When Farrah told me she ran into you, I couldn’t believe you were back in town, and when she told me why, I felt horrible.” He shut his eyes. “Well, I’ve felt horrible when it came to you for a long time.” He let out a long breath and started to bounce his knees up and down.

“Take it easy. I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

He stopped bopping his legs. “I handled everything all wrong with you, Jace. I messed up big time, and I need to apologize.”

Wow. I didn’t know how to respond. My first inclination was to tell him it was okay, because he’d apparently been through more than enough to make up for whatever he did to me. But another part of me wanted to tell him to fuck off. I’d never been more confused in my life.

“Nathan, I don’t know—”

“Hear me out,” he interrupted.

“Okay…”

“I never should’ve used what happened to my parents against you the night I caught you and Farrah. I’d promised you I would never tell anyone what you confessed to me, and instead I used it as ammunition. I was angry at you for messing around with my sister. What I did was downright cruel. I want you to know that I don’t blame you in any way for what happened to them.”

Again, I didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved to hear him say that. It felt like too little too late. “It would’ve been nice to know that three damn years ago,” I said loudly. It seemed the anger had won out.

“It wasn’t clear to me then. It took a while for me to see things the way I do now. My biggest fear back then was losing Farrah. I was sure you’d end up hurting her—or worse, taking her back to Charlotte with you. I was selfish more than anything else. When I caught you sneaking around with her, I felt betrayed. But over time, I’ve realized my anger was a reflection of my own struggle, not a reflection of you or anything you might have done.”

“When did you figure all this out?”

“Unfortunately, being out of work for so long, I’ve had a lot of time to think and reflect on my life. I started going to church, believe it or not.”

“Really? You’d never stepped inside a church, from what I recall…”

He chuckled. “I know. I was depressed and desperate. Just walked in one day in the middle of the week. It was me and a bunch of old people. But they were friendly, and I kept going on Sundays after that. There’s this counselor I met through the parish who volunteers his services. I’ve had a lot of meetings with him. He’s not a doctor or anything, but he’s become a good friend and helped me realize that all of my actions came down to a fear of being alone, of abandonment. My dependence on Farrah wasn’t healthy, and neither was my attitude toward you. It was more than just being angry at you for sneaking around behind my back. That shit went back to childhood.”