Chapter 60 Evan
EVAN
Istep out into the cold night air, the hospital doors sliding closed behind us and I let out a breath.
Nate walks beside me, pulling the keys from his pocket. “Where are you parked?”
“Down here.” I point to the right. “You?”
He points to the left. “I’m over here.” He stares at the keys in his hand, then back at me.
I shove my hands in my pockets, digging for my own keys. “Listen, I…” I chew on the inside of my cheek, not really knowing how to say what I want to say, but I made Nora a promise. “You want to go somewhere?”
“Yeah. I want to go home.” His hand tightens around his keys as he studies me with a tight jaw.
I nod, dropping my head, defeated, fingers curling tight around my keys in my pocket.
“With you,” he adds.
My head snaps back up. I swallow. With me?
He drags a hand over his tired face. “I don’t want to go home alone. Not tonight.”
I nod again, unable to speak. There’s so much I want to say, but the emotions clog at the back of my throat. After a beat too long, I manage, “I’ll follow you in the car.”
“Good. I’ll see you at home.” Nate wanders to the left, clicking the fob on his keys.
Home. I stand there for a second after he moves, the cold biting through my jacket, trying to steady the mess inside my chest. The hospital lights glow behind me.
Pip’s heartbeat still echoes in my ears, steadying the rhythm of mine.
I almost believed it was home. Waking up next to Nora, holding her in my arms. Nate’s warm body at my back. It was home.
I drag a hand through my hair and head for my car.
The drive back is quiet. Streetlights smear across the windscreen, rain threatening overhead. Nate’s car stays just ahead of me the whole way, me chasing his glowing lights that I don’t deserve to catch.
I’ve put Nora and Nate through so much. I didn’t think all the stress could affect the baby like this.
I’ve been such a selfish bastard. I thought I was doing what’s best. I’ve caused this.
They must feel it too. I should turn off and head to my place on the other side of town, but the thought of going back to my lonely shell is worse than whatever I’ll face at Nate’s.
Nora’s face in that hospital bed. Nate’s voice breaking down the phone.
Pip’s heartbeat. Nora telling me she still loves me after everything I put her through.
How can she love me? I don’t deserve it.
I don’t deserve any of this, but I keep driving, following Nate’s taillights, because hearing him say he didn’t want to be alone tonight broke me completely.
He’s so strong all the time for everyone, and I should have had his back at his parents’. I’m not making the same mistake. Tonight I’ll be there for him and do whatever it takes to put things right.
The house is dark when we pull onto the drive.
Nate kills his engine but doesn’t get out straight away. I park behind him, watching his silhouette through the windscreen, shoulders heavy, head bowed forward over the steering wheel. Then he straightens, climbs out, and I follow.
Neither of us speaks as we make our way to the door. The familiar click of the lock sounds louder than usual, the house giving me the silent treatment as I step inside. But the smell of Nora’s unlit vanilla candles linger in the air, welcoming me home.
Nate drops his keys into the bowl by the door and shrugs out of his jacket. “I’m gonna shower.”
“Yeah,” I say, shrugging off my jacket. “Okay.”
He hesitates at the bottom of the stairs, like he wants to say something else, then just nods and disappears upstairs.
The sound of running water replaces the silence a minute later.
I stand alone in the kitchen, unsure what to do with myself. Nora’s mug sits beside the sink. A sketchbook lies open on the table with a drawing of the nursery, a pencil resting exactly where she left it.
I trace the sketch, my finger outlining the cot in the centre of the room, the sofa bed against one wall.
This must be how she’s planned the nursery.
We bought the paint and the cot as it was on sale before I left, but we never got around to decorating.
My feet take the stairs two at a time, desperate to see what they’ve done to the room. I’ve missed so much.
I walk past Nate and Nora’s bedroom, the en suite shower pattering against the tiles. The nursery door is ajar and I push the door open, expecting to see the sketch brought to life, fresh paint on the walls, Nora’s doodles covering the fitted wardrobe doors with vinyl like she talked about.
But as I stand there taking in the scene, it’s just as it was when I left. A tin of paint in the corner, a flat-packed cot still in the box. The sofa bed moved to one side of the room.
It’s as if time stopped the day I left. Like the house has been holding its breath.
I rub the ache in my chest. They didn’t carry on without me. I slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor, staring at the unopened cot as if it’s waiting for someone brave enough to build it.
Footsteps sound behind me. A door creaks, and a moment later Nate appears in the doorway, hair damp, joggers hanging low, and a t-shirt clinging to his shoulders. “You, er…” He scrubs a hand over his face. “You want a beer?”
I shake my head. “Not in the mood, mate, but don’t let me stop you from getting one.”
“I stopped drinking. Wanted to be more present and keep a clear head for Nora since… you left.”
His words stab me in the chest. I should’ve been here. I wave a hand around the room. “You didn’t finish it.”
“Couldn’t,” he says, his voice rough. “Didn’t feel right without you.”
Silence lingers between us again.
“I thought leaving would make things easier,” I say, staring at the floor. “For you. For Nora. For the baby.”
Nate leans back against the opposite wall, sliding down until he’s sitting across from me, knees bent, exhaustion written all over him. “Today,” he says with a crack in his voice. “I thought I was gonna lose everything.”
My throat closes up.
“I wasn’t there.” He focuses on a box of baby things Nora finally let herself buy after the twelve-week scan. “And you were.” His eyes finally meet mine. “You stayed.”
“Of course I stayed.” I rest my elbows on my knees, cracking my fingers. “I nearly told myself not to come tonight,” I sigh. “Thought maybe you’d be better off if I just… kept my distance.”
Nate lets out a humourless laugh. “Yeah? Because that’s worked out great so far.”
I huff a breath.
“I can handle my parents. I can handle gossip. I can handle anything.” His voice drops. “But I can’t do this without you, Ev.”
The open wounds in my chest bleed out.
I’ve only ever seen Nate cry twice. Once was at his brother’s funeral and the other was when we were kids and he broke his nose during a rugby scrum, though that time wasn’t real tears, I think it just made his eyes water like that time I dared him to eat a chili pepper.
But now, his eyes pool with so much emotion swirling around his dark, blown pupils.
He blows out a trembling breath. “If anything happens with our baby, I don’t think Nora will survive it.”
“She will. Because she’ll have you.”
He shakes his head. “She won’t want me, Ev.” He rubs at his eyes as if willing the tears back. “I can’t offer her anything. It’s not like we can try again.” His breath stutters. “This is it for us. She’s been distant since you left. Our marriage is hanging on by a thread here.”
“That’s bullshit.” I narrow my eyes, not quite sure what I’m hearing.
“You’re the strongest couple I know. All she wanted today was you.
I was helpless. She wanted her husband, the man who protects her, the man who fixes everything.
The man who makes everyone feel safe. She wanted you.
It’s why I left, so the two of you could be stronger together, without me complicating things. ”
“Don’t you get it?” He drops his hands to the floor, his body sagging against the wall. “You’re the glue that holds us both together. Nothing’s been the same since you left. Nora’s withdrawn. I’ve been doing my best, but today, I—”
“Hey.” I shift closer to him, crawling across the room. “You don’t need to do this alone. I’m here now.” I climb onto him and straddle his lap, holding him against me.
His arms snake around my waist, and he breathes me in, his breath shuddering against my chest.
I rock in his arms, hugging him like a koala hugs a tree, and kiss the top of his head, then the bump on his nose.
“I should never have left.” My voice breaks.
Tears sting my eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry, Nate.
” My shoulders shake as a silent sob wracks through me.
This is where I belong. With him. It’s where I’ve always belonged.
He and Nora are my family. “Forgive me.”
He holds me tighter, mumbling against my shirt. “I forgive you.”
I thread my fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp just like Nora does, and kiss the top of his head again.
“I was ready to lose my parents for us,” he says. “And you walked away before I even got the chance to fight.”
“I was trying to protect you.” I sniffle against his hair and swipe at my eyes, my vision blurry despite my glasses.
“I didn’t ask you to.” His hand comes up, resting against my jaw. “Stay,” he says, barely above a whisper.
I swallow, unsure if he means tonight or forever, but I don’t plan on going anywhere ever again.
I lean forward and dip my head. Our lips meet like remembering a language we both speak fluently but forgot how to start.
My fingers caress his cheek, the stubble scratching my palms. The kiss is slow but desperate. Lingering, yet rushed.
I slip my tongue into his mouth, the warmth of him spreading through my soul. I never want to stop kissing him or Nora. Nothing else matters now. This is my family.
His hand slides into my hair, forehead pressing to mine when we break apart, both of us breathing heavily. “I missed you,” he murmurs.
“I never stopped being here. I just… stood outside.”