Chapter 21 – nate
NATE
Sweat trickles down between my eyes, making them sting even after I wipe it away with the back of my hand. My T-shirt is soaked, sticking to my back and chest like a second skin. I’ve just run on the treadmill for over an hour, running until I saw black spots in the corner of my eyes.
I haven’t eaten this morning. I burned through my energy reserves, and if I kept going, the odds were good I’d pass out.
I finished the mile anyway. Because for six precious minutes, I didn’t think about the unanswered texts on my phone. My mind and body were completely consumed with keeping me upright, keeping me running toward a landmark I’ll never reach.
Now that I’m sitting on the weight bench with my legs trembling, it’s obvious what an idiot I was.
Running like that was self-destructive and dangerous.
If my legs went out from under me, I would have gone flying backward and hit the floor like a rock.
I could have ended up with a sprained ankle or worse.
I swipe my phone open to my texts, hoping I somehow missed a notification. But there are just the same messages I’ve been staring at for days.
Nate
I understand. Hope everything’s okay.
Did everything turn out alright yesterday?
I’m free tonight if you want to reschedule.
How are you? Have you been by the shelter recently?
Do you have the confirmation for my meeting with Gabriel at Edmonton next week?
Cat
Yes, forwarded it to you again! All the details are on your calendar.
She’s only responded to work texts and emails. Anything personal, and she doesn’t reply.
Fuck, what did I do wrong?
When Cat canceled our date last minute, I assumed she wasn’t feeling well. But when she didn’t explain the next day, I started to suspect something was up. Her behavior since has all but confirmed it.
I thought things were going so well between us. When I close my eyes, I can still see her satiated face after she swallowed my cock. Was she upset that I left her asleep alone on the couch? Her texts from that morning made it seem like she didn’t mind. Did she reconsider after she had a few hours?
There has to be something she isn’t telling me. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that everyone has secrets—even the people you trust the most.
I just wish I could get an answer from her in person. Unfortunately, the UPS Thanksgiving schedule means she won’t be back in the office until after the holiday. For the first time, I regret giving our employees such a generous holiday package.
Maybe I should go down to the shelter and see if she’s there. I can always say I’m checking on what they’ve done with my donation. But what if I show up, and she ignores me there, too? I can’t stalk Cat into dating me.
Enough. I can’t keep staring at my phone, pathetically hoping she’ll say something.
Taking a gulp from my water bottle, I move over to the weight rack and start loading plates on the dumbbell. I wasn’t supposed to lift today, but I need a distraction. Once I’ve got 300 pounds on the bar, I lie down on the bench.
The first rep makes my muscles light up, sending a burst of energy through my body. Endorphins flow through me, and I grin. This is exactly what I need.
My second and third reps are tough, and by the time I get to the fourth, I’m straining to push the barbell up. Fuck, I’ve overestimated myself. I’m drained from the cardio, and I don’t have any fuel in my system from breakfast. I should rack the weights and end the set early.
But I don’t.
Some punishing impulse tells me to keep going and get to six reps.
I press the barbell up again, and halfway up, my muscles fail. The weight falls on my chest, knocking the wind out of me and making my vision go black for a second. I scramble to lift the weight off me, but I can’t get my arms to work. My lungs burn as I gasp for breath.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Ryan says.
Then he and James are next to me, lifting up the dumbbell and putting it back on the rack.
Ryan pulls me up to sitting, putting his arm around my shoulders to keep me up.
James rummages in his gym bag, pulling out a bag of electrolyte gummies.
He shoves it into my hand, watching me until I put one in my mouth and chew it.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I rasp. “I’m fine.”
“What the hell were you thinking, lifting like that without a spotter?” Ryan demands. He doesn’t even bother hiding the worry in his expression. I might give him shit about his love life, but part of me admires the way Ryan can be so openly affectionate, to women and to his friends.
How can I tell him that I was giving into self-destructive impulses, overworking my body to try and forget about a girl who isn’t even interested in me?
“I wasn’t thinking. I figured I could handle it,” I tell him.
James narrows his eyes, and I know he doesn’t buy it. He just points to the bag of gummies in my hand and says, “Eat up, Walsh.”
“Oh wait, what happened with your mom and Cat?” Ryan asks.
My brow furrows. “My mom? What’re you talking about?”
“Yesterday, Luke and I were coming back from happy hour and Eleanor practically ran us over on our way in the building. She looked like someone pissed in her corn flakes.”
Oh, fuck.
I have a horrified suspicion where this is going.
“Then when we went over to the elevator, Cat came out, and her whole face was red,” he continues. “I tried to ask what made her so upset, but I don’t think she even heard me. I figured one thing was related to the other.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me till now?” I growl.
Ryan holds up his hands. “Hey, I thought you knew. Cat’s not my girlfriend.”
Of course. Mom would have to butt her head in and ruin the best thing that’s happened to me in months. It’s classic her. I don’t know what she said to Cat, but I’m guessing there were enough snobby, cutting insults in there to chase my girl off.
“Do you remember anything else?” I ask Ryan.
“Uh, Cat was holding a bunch of bags, and this big bouquet of pink flowers. That’s all I know.”
She brought me her favorite flowers. The ones I always see her stop to smell on her way home. She’ll never buy them for herself, but she bought them as a gift for me. She’s too generous, and too fucking good for me.
I push to my feet. “Thanks for telling me. I have to go make a call.”
As I’m leaving the gym, I hear Ryan call after me, “I notice you didn’t deny she was your girlfriend!”
I dial Mom’s number the second I get in the elevator. Just as the doors open to my apartment, I hear her archly mannered voice.
“Nathaniel! Finally. I must have left you six messages.”
“I’ve been busy.”
If she can hear the reined anger in my voice, she ignores it. She just rambles on like she didn’t even hear me. “I’ve spoken with the caterers, and they say Thanksgiving dinner will be ready at six. The family will all be at our place at four for drinks. Your aunts are all so excited to see you.”
“I’m not coming to Thanksgiving, Mom. Not after what you pulled.”
She pauses. “I’m not sure what you mean, Nathaniel.”
“Oh, yes, you do. How dare you talk to her like that? What the hell did she do to deserve you being so rude to her?”
“I assume you’re talking about your assistant.” Every word is careful, calculated. “We did meet when I stopped by your apartment, but our conversation was perfectly polite. I didn’t say anything untrue or inappropriate. Why, what did she tell you?”
“She didn’t have to tell me anything. I know you well enough to have a pretty good idea of what you said. Did you say she wasn’t good enough? That she was wasting her time with me? That she doesn’t deserve to be in my life?”
Mom lets out a long breath. “I’m just concerned for you, sweetheart. You’ve been distracted, and the board has been discussing you. First the Crown Hotel Group deal fell through, and Eric tells me this Cat was the reason.”
“No, their sexist pig of a CEO was the reason,” I snap. “You know what happened. I gave the board a full report. I would have done the same if I saw him behave like that toward any woman.”
“Now is just not the time to lose your focus. The Edmonton Security acquisition is coming up, and I don’t want to see that fall apart, too.
This girl has taken up far too much of your attention, and I can’t watch it continue.
Your father would never have let himself be distracted by something so trivial. ”
Cruel laughter bubbles up in my chest. Mom already stepped all over my relationship with Cat. If I wanted to hurt her back, I’ve got a poison dagger that I could stab right into her cold heart.
But no matter what Mom does to me, I could never be that heartless.
Dad had distractions, alright. He had a whole other fucking family he never told her about. A wife, a house, children.
When he went away on business trips, at least half the time, he was with them. He molded me to lead his company, but saved his love and affection for his illegitimate children.
I found out his secret when I was sixteen. A folder on his desk full of children’s art that I didn’t recognize. Photographs of him, toddlers on his lap, kissing his cheeks while he smiled at them like he never smiled at me.
Dad swore he’d tell Mom if I just gave him time.
Out of youthful stupidity, I believed him.
I swallowed my threats to tell her the truth and let him come up with the perfect way to break the news to her without breaking her heart.
He waited for weeks, which turned into months.
Before he could make good on his promise, he had to go and die.
His stroke changed everything. All his ruthlessness in the board room was forgotten.
He died young, so he has to be remembered as a saint.
Mom and the whole UPS board still act like Dad was some gold-hearted genius who led our company into a new century with forward thinking and old-fashioned morals.
A legacy he only gets to have thanks to me. Thanks to all the money I pay Dad’s shadow family for their silence. What do I get in return? A secret that feels heavier than that barbell on my chest, one I can never tell another soul.
A bitter taste fills my mouth. If Mom had left Cat alone, maybe I would have spent another holiday with her, mired in my own guilt. Now, I can’t bear the thought of it.
“You know what? No,” I say, my voice empty of emotion. “I don’t think I’ll make it to Thanksgiving dinner, but thanks for the invite.”
I hang up and throw the phone at the sofa as hard as I can. It bounces off a cushion and lands on the floor. I see Mom’s name on the screen, trying to call me back. I have no intention of answering.
Instead, I go straight to my home office and open my laptop. It only takes a few minutes for me to find the florist Cat likes online. I’ll call them and ask about those pink flowers. I’ll make them deliver every goddamn one they have.
The flowers are a start. But I want to do something more—something permanent. Something she’d never dream I could do for her.
I open my email and start composing a message.