47. Nate
FORTY-SEVEN
NATE
It’s not easy trying to figure out what’s going on in her head. Noah’s better at that, at coaxing out her feelings. I’m not good at talking or showing my emotions.
She glances between us, chewing her bottom lip. She best not be trying to get rid of us. No way I’m leaving her to feel like this. I can’t do it, even if I have to sit in a different room to give her privacy.
Noah drops his arm over her shoulder, and I shut the door, closing us in with her. As they sit beside one another on the sofa, I drop down on her other side, sandwiching her between us. But she doesn’t say anything. She keeps her head down, focusing on her hands twisting together in her lap.
It gives me a second to watch her, to let myself sink into her skin.
It’s felt like fucking torture being away from her, not having my eyes on her.
Her hair is up in a messy bun atop her head, with pieces haphazardly escaping around her face.
Her face is pale but blotched with pink, not in the way she blushes for me, from dried tears.
“Rosy, if we’ve done something to hurt you, please let us know?” Noah breaks the silence.
I wait, needing to hear what she says so I can figure out how to fix this. Her body freezes, and she turns her head to Noah.
“What? No, no, you haven’t done anything. Either of you. None of you,” she says quickly, her head swinging between me and Noah.
I grip her hand, and my thumb circles back and forth over her knuckles. I need to touch her, to help somehow.
Noah cups her face, stilling her shaking head. “Okay, so if not us, then what is it? It’s obvious you’re not okay, and we want to be here for you.”
A tear slips down her cheek, and my heart wrenches. Noah’s hold on her tightens, then he leans in and kisses away each tear that falls.
“Talk to us, please? Seeing you hurting is hard to bear,” he tries again.
I don’t hesitate to raise her hand and brush my lips against it, needing her to confess whatever’s hurting her. Her tears fall faster than before, and Noah swipes them away with his fingers.
Rosy pulls away from us both, and I have to hold back the snarl at the sudden loss.
She doesn’t need me growling at her. This moment is about her and what she needs.
Her head falls into her hands, and her shoulders shake.
Time slows and stretches. I need her to answer, but I have to wait.
I can wait. Clenching my fists in my lap, I take a deep, calming breath.
“Nothing’s wrong. Well, not really. Nothing that can be fixed,” she finally whispers, so fucking quietly.
Taking a deep breath, her hands fall to her lap and her gaze focuses on the floor. “Nanna died today. Three years ago. She was my…everything. So I…I take this day off every year to let myself be sad and miss her.”
Seeing and hearing Rosy break in front of us is the fucking worst. I wish there were a way I could take on her pain and grief.
Squeezing my eyes shut briefly, I take a deep inhale and push the helplessness down before turning my focus back to the woman beside me.
She’s my everything. I couldn’t cope if I lost her, so I can't imagine how she must feel in her loss.
Not able to sit back and do nothing, I pull Rosy onto my lap so her side is pressed to my chest. Noah rotates to face her, his knees pressing into hers. Taking her hands into his, he drops a soft kiss onto the back of each one.
“Rosy, it’s okay to feel sad and to let your heart grieve.
You don’t need to feel bad or to hide it.
We’re all here, wanting to be a part of your life, whether it’s to embrace the happiness you feel or to be beside you in the sadness.
This is what we all do for each other. Would you let me be sad alone? ”
Before he can even get out the last word, she shakes her head.
“No, of course not. I’d want to be there for you. I don’t want you to be alone,” she stutters between her sniffles. Her words aren’t surprising; my girl loves unconditionally like that.
“Then we’re staying,” I grumble, not wanting to give her the chance to get rid of us.
She swings her face to mine, and gives me a beautiful, tear-stained smile.
Her body melts into mine, and she tucks her head beneath my chin so she’s pressed against my heart.
Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my racing pulse so she doesn’t feel it.
She’s not ready to hear everything I want to confess, to feel everything I feel for her.
“Okay, that’s settled. We’re having a cosy night. I’ll go next door and get dinner from Bry. Is there anything specific you want?” Noah says, rising to his feet.
“Are you going to listen if I say you don’t need to trouble him?” she sasses, and even though I can still hear the tears clogging her throat, it makes me feel lighter.
“Not even a little.” Noah wink back. “Bry has made the food, so it either gets wasted if we don’t eat it, or we’ll make everyone happy if we do.”
“Okay.” She nods. “If…if he has something sweet, I wouldn’t say no.”
Leaning down, he tugs on her chin. “I can ensure that,” he says, placing a kiss on her lips before heading out to get the necessities needed for my girl, our girl.
She’s mostly mine.
But I can agree that we all give her something she needs. She does the same for us too.
And if she needs us to just sit with her, we can do that. There might be nothing we can say, nothing to remove or fix her grief. But this? Being with her, offering her company and comfort to remind her that no matter how consuming the grief may feel, she’s not alone in it.
I’m all-fucking-in.