Chapter 25
25
Nataly
I’m never this impulsive—e ver.
And it’s way too early for my brain to function, and I barely got any sleep last night, so I had to throw together the fastest overnight bag of my life. Did I even pack everything I need? More than one top?!
I groan. Oh no. I definitely only packed one top. I have, at best, one and a half outfits for this trip. What else did I forget? I guess I’ll find out when we arrive at his mom’s house. ( His mom’s house!! )
“One and a half outfits. Solid. Peak preparation, Nataly,” I mutter, making my way towards Nathan.
My dad would freak if he knew. Spontaneity isn’t exactly in our family DNA. Or maybe it’s just not in his DNA, and I’ve absorbed it by osmosis? I take after both my parents in different ways.
Dad is systematic, reserved, and a deep thinker. He loves computers. Excellent vocabulary. To the point we question his words because they feel colonial. He also—if I had to guess—has a tender heart that’s terrified of being broken, which is probably why he’s bubble-wrapped my life from birth. He doesn’t talk much about his past, but I suspect there’s a reason he is the way he is.
Mom, on the other hand, is all heart. Outgoing, spontaneous, an incurable romantic. She’s also clumsy (I definitely inherited that) and very Italian. Occasionally explosive—hence, the Italian.
I love that I got Dad’s deep thinking. I love that I got Mom’s love for life.
And I know not everything is inherited. Some things, I’m realizing, are choices. I’ve been sheltered my whole life, but now? Now I get to decide who I want to be.
Who do I want to be? Who do I see myself becoming in the future? Will I hold on to the life I’ve been given and carry on the same way, or are there things I want to change?
I think it’ll be a mix of the two. There are so many things I admire in both my parents that I will want to treasure for the future. My mom’s zest for life, my dad’s deep and analytical thinking. Their generosity in hosting.
But when it comes to adventure? I think I want a lot of it. It also sounds a little terrifying. But aren’t the best adventures meant to make your heart pump a little faster? Scare you a little bit? Because they’re out of the comfort zone.
Hence, I’m going to Northern Ireland today.
I made the decision so fast, I didn’t even give myself a chance to overthink it. And now? Now I’m thrilled. I’m crossing borders for this man. And the way my heart is pounding…It’s not just the adventure—it’s him.
And I’m meeting Nathan’s family.
I’m meeting Nathan’s family.
I’M MEETING NATHAN’S FAMILY.
Deep breaths . No biggie. Hopefully, they love me.
I spot Nathan’s van and run toward it, shivering against the crisp 6 a.m. air. I’m looking forward to this. I shiver at the thought of being so close to him for so many hours. That spark between us? It’s only heating up.
The second I pull open the door, I launch myself inside. It’s colder than I’d like, but who cares? Because all I really want to do right now is kiss that delicious mouth of his.
I lean in, my face close to his, my lips hovering over his like a dare. “Good morning.”
His sleepy eyes flick to my mouth, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “Good morning,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. Then, he grabs my neck and closes the distance.
I could stay right here forever, drinking him in, letting his warmth melt into me. But he pulls away too soon— too soon —and reality reminds me we do actually have to hit the road.
I shift close to him, our knees almost brushing. This van is perfect for sneaking into his space. No pesky center console separating us like in a car.
“Ready?” he asks, his voice low and thick with sleep.
I pump my fist. “Adventure, here we come!”
As we make our way up to Wales, we talk about everything. Deep conversations. Teasing. The kind of back-and-forth that has my stomach doing somersaults .
Nathan’s teasing? Elite .
Me teasing back? …Not so much . Banter has never been my strong suit. I’ve tried, but I always chicken out. What if I accidentally say something that comes across mean? The thought alone makes me shudder. No, thank you. I’ll stay right here in Pleasantville.
But his flirty teasing… I’m here for it. All day long. I love it.
As we’re nearing Wales and the port, we broach the subject of his family. I know there’s some history there.
“So, tell me what I’m gearing up for. I hope your family likes me!” I say, only half-joking.
Nathan glances over at me, smirking. “What do you want to know? ”
“Everything! Personality quirks. Deep psychological musings. You know, the usual.” I smile.
He chuckles. “I don’t know if I do deep psychological musings. But my parents are divorced and aren’t often in the same place at the same time. You’ll meet both of them, though.”
He pauses, and his smile grows. “And you’ll meet my gran.”
Noted. Special relationship with his grandma. My heart softens.
“And you’ll meet my brother and sister. Maybe her boyfriend, Niall, but he’s a pilot, so he might not be around.”
“Got it,” I say. “The entire family. No biggie. I’ve only got one and a half outfits on me,” I mutter very low.
He laughs.
…He clearly has superhuman hearing.
Meanwhile, I probably listened to one too many loud earphones in my lifetime. Oh, and that one time my mom accidentally nearly burst my ear drum by sticking a cotton bud in my ear and I had to go to the doctor because it was bleeding the next day. The doctor told us she missed popping my eardrum by a hair. Poor mom, she still feels guilty about it. She was just trying to make sure my ear was squeaky clean. I remind her it’s completely fine because my hearing is perfectly normal. But I think Nathan’s hearing is next level.
Nathan glances over at me, grinning. “You’ll be fine. They’ll love you.”
Then—he squeezes my knee.
Have mercy.
His hand is fire. Absolute devastation. My entire nervous system short-circuits . I’m molten lava; the steam coming off is palpable. His touch ignites a flame and his fingers leave a trail of heat. I’m a goner. Does he know what he’s doing to me?
Trying to keep my composure (read: fail), I cover his hand with mine. He doesn’t move it.
We turn on some music, and I stare out the window, watching the Welsh countryside whiz past. It’s all rolling green hills, a blur of beauty I can barely focus on. Because my mind?
Completely tangled up in him . We’re not official yet. But we’re definitely something.
And I’m pretty sure—no, I’m hoping —he’ll ask me soon. Because this? This doesn’t feel casual. Or temporary. It feels inevitable.
And I don’t want to take it slow.
I want him. I want this. And I cannot wait to see where this adventure takes us.
Two hours later, and we’re leaving the ferry, heading towards Northern Ireland.
The ferry ride was an absolute breeze, and actually lovely. They had a little cinema, a restaurant, a café, and other entertainment options on board. But the best part?
The windows.
I loved sitting there, just watching the waves roll by, the endless stretch of blue magnificent. There’s something about water—the movement, the beauty—that’s always enchanted me. It’s beautiful.
As we neared land, Nathan and I stepped outside. The wind whipped through my hair, the salty air crisp against my cheeks. I gripped the railing, watching the coastline come into view. But then?—
A hiccup. One that sent a ripple through the peace we’d been experiencing.
Nathan's phone buzzed. He checked it, and I watched his expression shift. Quiet. Tense.
Then he showed me the screen. It was a message from Joel.
Joel: Is it true you’re making a move on Nataly? I can’t believe you’d go after her when I was dating her. That breaks bro code. I didn’t think you were like this, man.
I blinked at the message, my stomach sinking.
Bro code? They’d barely even spoken. That Barcelona trip? They were acquaintances, if that. They didn’t have history. They weren’t friends. This… this felt like a reach.
But still, guilt swept in like a wave.
Joel had never pursued me like this before. Not when we were together or before. And now suddenly he’s showing up with flowers and ultimatums? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t feel like him. And yet… the thought of seeing him again makes me feel like I’m the one who did something wrong.
I hate feeling like the villain. I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I also won’t pretend my heart isn’t already choosing someone else.
“It’ll be okay, Nat,” Nathan said as he brought me in and kissed my temple. He could see my anxiety from a mile away.
“I know, I just hate that my indecision got us caught in this,” I said, sighing.
“We’re right where we’re supposed to be. It’ll all get sorted eventually.”
I took a breath, shook off the weight of it. Nathan was right. He had a calming effect on me.
Because I’m here. With Nathan. And for once, I’m not chasing something that doesn’t fit. I’m stepping into something that feels real.
Another two-hour drive later, we’re pulling up to his mom’s house.
Nathan’s still got deliveries to make tonight, and we’re spending all of Sunday here before heading to the marble yard Monday morning to pick up the next haul—then back to the ferry for the long trip home.
It’s already late afternoon, around 4 p.m. The plan is to meet his mom and brother, grab a cup of tea, then drop off what Nathan needs at the yard.
“You ready?” he asks as he places his hand on my knee again. I could definitely get used to it having a permanent place there.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess—which is basically never.”
He chuckles.
“Just be yourself. She’s going to love you.”
I take a steadying breath as Nathan walks up to the front door. Okay. This is happening.
He walks up to the door, knocks, and waltzes in. He just waltzes in . My jaw drops.
I forgot people leave their doors unlocked here. My parents would never dream of doing that. No one in London would leave their doors unlocked. But there’s something to say about a place that’s safe enough to do that. I think that’s really lovely.
“Hi mum,” Nathan says as he steps inside.
“Hi, son!” I hear her call from somewhere within the house. Her voice sounded like it was moving, and sure enough, I see her round the corner quickly.
She gives Nathan a big hug and then turns her eyes to me.
She’s got a very bright and big smile, and I love the warmth I find there. Warmth and I can get along just fine.
“And you must be Nataly,” she says, reaching over for a hug.
“That’s me! It’s so nice to meet you,” I say.
She calls me over into the living room. “Would you like a cuppa?”
I grimace before I can stop myself. “No, thank you, though!”
Nathan immediately clocks my expression, smirking.
“Working on that one,” he teases. “She doesn’t like tea.”
His mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t like tea?”
“Not yet.” I admit. “Although Nathan seems to think I should give it more of a chance. He got me to try it once and I almost spit it out. But then I drowned it in milk and sugar and it was fine!”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “So basically, she had milk and sugar with a side of tea.”
I grin at him. “Pretty much!”
We fall into conversation all together, and I love how warm his mom is. It makes me feel more at home. She’s also clearly creative, as I can tell from looking around her living room. She enjoys putting a cozy space together. It’s a good thing I’m staying here. I think Josh has been kicked out of his room, though Nathan’s still got his own. I feel a little bad but I’m reassured it’s all good.
Time flies, and before I know it, we’re back in the van, heading to the yard. Nathan pulls up, hops out, and within minutes, a few guys come out to help offload the van. Efficient . I stay put, watching as he works, handling everything with this effortless ease.
By the time he slides back into the driver’s seat, it’s already evening. He shifts gears, glancing over at me. “We’ll meet the rest of my family tomorrow,” he says.
I smile as I turn to look at him. “Oh yeah? What’s on the itinerary?”
“We’ll go to my old church in the morning, then to my gran’s house for Sunday lunch. You’ll meet everyone there.”
My stomach flutters. His gran’s house. His whole family.
He shifts gears again, the van rumbling smoothly beneath us. I have no idea how he drives this thing. He’s a great driver. “But tonight, we’ll grab some Chinese with Mum and Josh.”
“Ooh, love a good Chinese takeaway.” I tap my fingers against my thigh. “What do you usually get?”
Nathan grins . “Chinese chicken fried rice and gravy. Can’t get it anywhere in England.”
I blink. “GRAVY? Chinese gravy ?” I ask in confusion. Gravy goes on chicken at Christmas time. Not on Chinese food.
“I know. It’s more of a Northern Irish Chinese thing. But it’s so good. ” He smirks. “You can try some of mine.”
I scrunch up my nose. “You’ll have to convince me on that one. I’ll try a bite, but if it traumatizes me, you’re buying me dessert.” Just the thought of dessert makes my mouth water.
His laugh fills the van, deep and rich, and I can’t help but smile.
And as we drive through the quiet Northern Irish roads, his laughter still lingering in the air, I can’t help but think?—
This already feels like the start of something so, so good .
The next morning, I wake up, stretching out in the unfamiliar-yet-cozy bed. Last night had been great—laughing over dinner with his mom and Josh, peeling back more layers of Nathan’s world, seeing him completely in his element.
And okay… I may have been converted to the Northern Irish Chinese gravy and chicken. A little. Maybe. I still cannot wrap my head around sausages and chips at a Chinese takeaway, but I’ll admit: when I stole a bite of Nathan’s, it wasn’t awful . It’s just not Chinese . I’m still a sweet and sour chicken girl at heart. Or maybe next time… the honey chili chicken? That also sounds so good. Minus the chili part. But I hear it’s like sweet chili, and I’m here for that. Not spicy.
I shake my head at myself and push off the covers, heading to the bathroom to freshen up.
It’s only when I start putting on my makeup that I realize?—
Wait.
No.
No, no, no.
I forgot mascara.
I groan at my reflection. What is it with me and mascara?! I roll my eyes, but then my gaze flickers to my suitcase, another reminder of my very questionable packing job. I’m going to have to wear this top twice. Ah well.
As I show up for breakfast, I tell Nathan.
“Apparently, mascara and I have a hit-and-miss relationship. ”
He grins. “Clearly a dangerous one. Should I be concerned next time you disappear before an event?”
I laugh. “I didn’t tell you before, but on the night we saw each other at team night, I quickly ran into the bathroom to get some mascara on to look, you know, presentable.” We laugh. “And now? I completely forgot it at home.”
I sigh dramatically. “Mascara: 2, Nataly: 0.”
“Sounds just like you.” He grins wider. “We’ll get you some on the way to church.”
After a quick breakfast, we swing by Tesco for an emergency mascara run, and then we’re off to church.
The moment we step in, I’m met with warmth. The pastor is actually American, which brings a comforting taste of home , and I find myself pulled into conversation after conversation. I love meeting everyone, getting little glimpses of the world Nathan lived in before London. He’s well-loved here. So many friends, so many people who know him. It makes my heart squeeze. But also… there’s zero chance I’m going to remember all these names. Oops. I’m better with faces than I am with names. But I do want to work on that.
And then, Gran’s house.
I subtly sniff my top. I had to wear it again. Does it smell okay? Please, Lord, do not let me smell weird. First impressions matter, and I really, really don’t want Nathan’s family associating me with anything even remotely skunk-like.
The drive was only about 30 minutes, and before I know it, we’re pulling up to a small bungalow in Belfast.
Nathan knocks on the door.
Gran opens it.
“Oh!” she exclaims, her entire face lighting up with delight.
I steal a glance at Nathan.
There it is. That soft, unguarded look.
The kind of look that tells me everything—how much she means to him, how deeply he loves her. I knew his grandad passed away ten years ago, knew that Gran lives here on her own now. Knew that Nathan spent summers with his grandparents, that he lived with her when he moved to Belfast. He had fond memories of his summers with them, and eats honey toast and sandwiches because they were his granddad’s favorite.
“Hi, Gran,” Nathan says as he bends down, enveloping her in a bear hug. She’s tiny compared to him, and for a second, I just melt at how gentle he is with her.
“Come in, come in,” she waves him inside, and then her gaze lands on me, eyes twinkling with something that feels like knowing.
“And who is this?”
“Hi! I’m Nataly,” I say, going in for a hug before she even has a chance to hold out her hand. Might as well establish right away—I’m a hugger.
As we step inside, I inhale.
Cheese. Garlic. Warmth. The air is thick with the kind of smell that feels like childhood, like home-cooked meals and a lifetime of tradition.
Nathan’s grin is instant. “Mmm, Gran, is that cheese pudding?” He turns to me with a sparkle in his eye. “My favorite.”
“What’s cheese pudding?” I ask, genuinely intrigued as we make our way through the hallway toward the kitchen.
“Only the greatest thing you’ve never had,” Nathan says, flashing a grin before slipping his fingers between mine.
Oof. Okay. His favorite meal and he’s holding my hand? Yeah, I’d say we’re off to a solid start.
We step into the kitchen, and the first person I notice is a tall, dark-haired, beautiful woman by the fridge, grabbing some drinks. Then my gaze flickers to the older man sitting at the table—Nathan’s dad.
Nathan clears his throat. “Hey.”
His dad looks up. “Hello there,” he says, standing and pulling Nathan in for a brief but firm hug.
I straighten, a little nervous on the inside but externally chill. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Nataly. ”
“Graham,” he says, and before I can even overthink it, I lean in for a hug.
A second later, the beautiful woman at the stove turns around with a warm smile.
“I’m Sarah,” she says, stepping forward to hug me as well.
People say Nathan and Sarah look alike, but I don’t really see it. Maybe it’s one of those things that only shows in baby photos. Maybe I just need to see baby pictures. Ooo somebody give me some baby pictures! I need to see photographic evidence of this man growing up. I’ll bet he looked cute. Although, scratch that—I’m really here for the embarrassing ones. The awkward school photos. The bad haircuts. The weird childhood phases.
I, unfortunately, have plenty of those. I went through a stage when I was 10 where I was on the chunkier side. I asked my mom to burn those photos but they may be lying around somewhere at the house as my mom sneakily would’ve wanted to keep them. I did one of those JC Penney photoshoots when I had my double chin. I shudder at the memory. We’ll keep those hidden from him.
But before I can ask for baby pictures, another man comes through the door.
A tall guy steps in casually.
“Hey,” he says.
Nathan nods. “Hey.”
I feel like some guys communicate very differently to us girls, one word is apparently enough.
Since I’m physically incapable of not being a hugger, I step forward. “Hi! I’m Nataly!”
He gives me a small smile. “Niall,” he says before I wrap him in a quick hug.
Niall. The pilot. Ohhh, this is going to be fun. My brain is already spinning with questions. Do pilots get unlimited peanuts? Do you only go first class now when you’re on vacation and think of us peasants in economy? Do you secretly judge people who clap when the plane lands or do you love it?
Nathan slides a hand to my back, his fingers curling gently against the fabric of my shirt as he looks at me. That little smile—the one where he already knows where my brain is spiraling—tugs at his lips.
And wow, I love this about him. I’ve got a motormouth . I can talk for days, filling silences with endless thoughts, and sometimes I put my foot straight in my mouth. Some people might think I come on too strong. But Nathan?
Nathan just smiles.
Like he enjoys it. Like I’m something to be treasured, not toned down. Like he’s proud to have me by his side—not trying to tone me down, not even a little.
My heart swells, and I can’t fight the mischievous little grin that creeps up. Alright then.
“I have some questions for you…”
We finished up Sunday lunch at Gran’s house. It went pretty well, I think. I asked plenty of questions and got to know a little more about Sarah & Niall, as well as Graham’s love for natural pressed juices. He’s studied a lot about them. I can tell he’s passionate about it. Gran was also a sweetheart. I still, of course, felt a teeny bit shy compared to my normal overly-bursting self being in a new group of people. I don’t know that the ‘new girl’ feeling will ever fully go away whenever I’m in a crowd of new people. But, that’s okay.
The cheese pudding was also unlike something I’ve ever tasted before. It was what the label says. A pudding of cheese. It’s warm and hearty. Perfect, especially for a cold day outside when you want to be warmed up from the insides out.
Now, Nathan and I are hopping back into the van. He opens my door— chivalry is very much alive, ladies —and presses his hand to my back as I hop in.
Shivers. Actual shivers .
His hand lingers just a second longer than necessary. Intentional? I hope so.
I shoot him a grin as he gets in beside me. “Okay, where to?”
That smile. That dangerous, melting kind of smile.
“Newcastle,” he says.
I blink. “There’s another Newcastle?”
He chuckles as he pulls onto the road. “The one in England is Newcastle upon Tyne. This one is just Newcastle.” His fingers drum lightly against the steering wheel. “It’s a beach town. I used to go there every summer. I want to show you my favorite beach.”
Beaches are my thing. My heart thing. There’s something about the waves, the endless horizon, the smell of salt in the air that feels like home.
“You had me at beach,” I say, beaming.
The drive is quiet as the scenery shifts—rolling hills, winding roads, the kind of landscape that reminds me of studying W.B. Yeats in English Lit. And the sun is still out. Apparently, a rare Northern Irish phenomenon. I’ll take it.
Then, as we pass the Mourne Mountains, something clicks.
Wait. WAIT.
I grab his arm. “Nathan.”
He laughs. “What?”
“These mountains. C.S. Lewis based Narnia on these.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ve heard that before.”
“Yes! This is where my nerdy side really comes out. My dad got me into the old-school BBC version just before the Disney one dropped—I was maybe eleven? I watched the Disney version in awe, and I practically lived and breathed those books. I also went merch-crazy.”
I take a breath but continue to ramble. “I still have a necklace of Peter’s shield with an inscription of a quote about Aslan. I feel like Narnia shaped a lot of how I see life. In wonder, in magic. They were written as allegories by C.S. Lewis, and I especially loved the metaphor of Aslan being Jesus. He was kind, gentle, but also majestic and untamed—unpredictable. Every one of the stories kept me on the edge of my seat! I still dream of living in Narnia,” I sigh as I finish talking.
Nathan just glances at me, smirking. There’s endearment in his eyes.
“What?” I ask, breathless from my own ramble.
He shakes his head, eyes back on the road. “Nothing. Just—” He flicks me a side glance, that melt-me-from-the-inside look. “I love watching you talk about things you love.”
Oh my heart. My stomach. I think it ran away at that last stop light. It’s fine, I’m fine .
I turn back toward the window, mostly because if I keep looking at him, I’ll actually combust.
This is so cool. The fact that I’m in a country C.S. Lewis walked, seeing places that inspired one of the most magical worlds ever written? Unreal.
“There are so many places here with C.S. Lewis ties,” I murmur. “The whole square in Belfast dedicated to him. AND—” I gasp. “I know there’s a castle, up on the north coast, that is said to have inspired Cair Paravel.”
Nathan hums. “Dunluce Castle, I’ll bet.”
He pulls into the parking lot and shifts into park before turning toward me.
“I’ll take you next time.”
Next time. My heart stumbles. My eyes flicker to his—searching, catching the barest hint of something in his expression. Something intentional.
I swallow, willing my voice to sound normal. “I’d like that.”
Nathan just grins, eyes glinting like he knows something I don’t.
We’re parked, and the sun has already set. But that won’t stop us. Nathan wants to show me Murlough Beach, and I want to see this place that holds pieces of his childhood. We walk down, the wooden walkway winding through rolling dunes and wild green heath. The scent of salt thickens in the air. I love sand dunes.
And when we finally reach the shore, it takes my breath away.
The ocean stretches endlessly before us, the Mourne Mountains rising in the distance like a painting. The waves crash against the sand, a deep, rhythmic pulse that settles something inside me. It’s my favorite sound in the world—I fall asleep to it every night on my white noise machine. The cool wind tangles through my hair, and I inhale deeply, letting the sea and sky and Nathan’s presence wrap around me.
The sun has dipped below the horizon, casting everything in that soft, gentle twilight glow of civil twilight. Soon, night will take over.
Nathan takes my hand, his fingers curling around mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and tugs me toward one of the dunes. I follow, my heartbeat thudding, as he pulls me up beside him.
He sits down, pulls me between his legs, and wraps his arms around me. The warmth of him, the strength, the way he just fits around me—I melt into it. His hands run in slow, steady strokes up and down my arms, and I lean into his chest, my body completely at home against his.
Then, he dips his face close, his lips brushing my neck as he presses a soft kiss there.
A shiver rolls through me. Not from the cold but from him .
His voice is low, near my ear. “What did you think of today?”
I turn my face slightly, eyes meeting his. “I was nervous, of course. But... I think it went well?”
He smiles, gaze steady. “It went great.”
And then his expression shifts. A flicker of something deeper. Darker.
My breath catches in my throat.
“Nataly,” he says, voice sure, steady. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
Straight-shooter. That’s Nathan. No hesitation. No games. Just him, knowing what he wants, and saying it.
My stomach flips.
I shift to fully face him, my hands sliding up around his neck. My eyes drop to his lips.
“Yes,” I whisper.
His slow, devastating smile spreads across his face, and that’s it. That’s all I can take. I pull his head down to mine and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow.
Nathan responds instantly, his hands threading into my hair, his body pressing closer. I don’t let go of him—not for a second. He deepens the kiss, and I feel it everywhere. It’s heat and safety and a slow, steady undoing all at once.
I don’t know how long we kiss.
By the time we pull back, the night has fully settled in around us, but Nathan’s eyes are brighter than ever. His forehead rests against mine, and he smiles. I reach up, running my fingers along the sharp edge of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath my fingertips.
I love that jaw. His hot, five o’clock shadow.
And just like that—a memory hits me.
J.
Or better referred to as J-disappointment, the man straight in from Hollister and straight out of my life.
I remember wanting to feel something that intense again. I remember wondering if it was ever real at all. Did he feel the same? Or was I just a placeholder? I remember being broken hearted about feeling like my heart wasn’t valuable enough for him to wait for me. To see that I was worth it.
But now, I know the truth.
I liked the idea of him, rather than the reality. When I wrote out that list of what I wanted in a future husband? He didn’t meet half of the requirements.
I think back to that night I was at an older lady’s house from my church in Bournemouth, sitting in her living room. The way she looked at me with kindness, but with wisdom, too.
“Nataly,” she had said, voice gentle but firm. “Right now, it’s exciting. You’re infatuated, loving the thrill of the beginning. But what about ten years from now? If your faith is the most important thing to you, you’ll feel the weight of that distance if he wants nothing to do with it. A chasm between you. You won’t be able to share the thing that matters most to you.”
She was right. And I thank God she helped me to realize that.
And coming back to this moment, for the first time, I finally feel something better than what I had before. This feels like so much more . This feels like a future. With a man that fits what I’ve always wanted. I never should’ve even contemplated settling.
Because what I have with Nathan? This is the forever kind of thing.
I’m sitting here remembering the movie Dear John. What Amanda Seyfried says.
“Two weeks. That’s all it took. Two weeks for me to fall in love with him.”
And I know that’s what I’m feeling right now. Two weeks of us seeing each other is all it took. Is it quick? Yes—absolutely. But when I jump, I jump in deep, no lifejacket.
I just hope he’s feeling the same way.