Chapter 28 #2
His voice was low and steady. “You think he’s responsible for the inspection.”
“I do.” My throat tightened. “But I can’t prove it. And if we go to the Taste-Off together, if we win or even come close, it’s just going to make him angrier.”
Nate reached for my hand, threading our fingers together. “You think stepping away will protect me.”
“Yes.”
“You think I wouldn’t walk through fire for you?”
That stopped me cold. The sincerity in his voice. The way he looked at me was like I mattered more than anything else.
“I’m scared, Nate,” I said, voice shaking. “Not just for you. For Tilly. For what he might do if he really wants to hurt me.”
He exhaled, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. “I hate that he has you this twisted up.”
“I just… I need some space. I need to think.”
Nate nodded slowly, but I could see the hurt flicker in his eyes.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll give you space. But I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you tell me you don’t want me.”
“I don’t want you to go away,” I said quietly. “But I don’t know how to do this right.”
His smile was sad and soft. “We’ll figure it out.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I kissed his cheek, then stood up and gathered my robe.
“I’m going to make some tea.”
I slipped into my robe and wandered into the kitchen.
For a moment, I hovered in the soft spill of light from the stove, listening to the quiet house and my own frantic heartbeat.
The silence between us stretched, not awkward, but heavy with everything we’d said.
I wanted to tell him I was grateful. That his patience was the only thing keeping me from unraveling completely.
But the words caught in my throat, tangled up with fear and longing.
Steam curled from my mug like a ghost I couldn’t shake. I stood there holding it with both hands, barefoot on the cold kitchen tile, pretending the warmth was enough to steady me. It wasn’t.
Behind me, I heard the soft rustle of blankets, then footsteps—slow, hesitant. Nate had gotten dressed in the dim light of my bedroom, and when he stepped into the doorway, he looked undone. Hair mussed, hoodie half-zipped, eyes soft with worry and something else. Something raw.
“Eliza,” he said gently.
I couldn’t look at him.
“I couldn’t stay in your bed. Not without you there. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want a break or space or—damn it. I can’t tell you what you need, and I won’t try to force you to change your mind.”
That almost broke me right there.
He walked farther into the kitchen, stopping when he was close enough to touch but far enough that I’d have to move toward him. It was such a Nate thing—an invitation without pressure. A door held open.
“Will you talk to me?” he asked softly.
I stared down at my tea. “I don’t know if I can.” My throat felt tight, my voice unfamiliar. “Everything feels too big. Too fast. Too much. And I’m so worried that Graham is going to—I don’t know—do something to ruin it.”
His brows pulled together with worry. “If this is about us, Eliza, we don’t have to rush anything. I meant what I said. We can slow down. We can—”
“It’s not that,” I whispered.
“Then what is it?”
“I…” My breath shook. “I don’t know how to do this.”
He didn’t move, didn’t crowd me. But I could feel him, warm and patient and steady in the doorway.
“Eliza,” he murmured, “talk to me.”
So I tried.
“I’m scared,” I said. “There. That’s the ugly truth. I’m terrified. I came here and hid out. I didn’t deal with any of my feelings, and now I’m in a whirlwind, and I don’t know what to do.”
He stepped closer, just one careful stride. “What scares you the most?” he asked.
“Graham,” I whispered. “Of what he might do. What he could do. He’s angry, and I know how he gets when he’s angry.
Manipulative. Cruel. And he’s not subtle about who he blames for anything.
” My chest tightened painfully. “I think he’ll go after you.
And the diner. You could lose everything, and it would be my fault. ”
His breath caught. “Eliza—”
“If I stay in this competition with you, I’m putting a target on your back,” I said, voice wobbling. “If I stay with you at all, I might be doing that.”
His expression changed—not hurt, not angry. Devastated.
“You’re not responsible for Graham’s actions,” he said, low and fierce. “He doesn’t get to take things from you. Or from me.”
“But he will try,” I said. “I know he will.”
Nate took another step. “Then let him try.”
I shook my head. “I can’t let you fight my battles. Or get caught in the crossfire of them.”
“You think I can’t handle him?”
“That’s not it,” I whispered. “I know you can. That’s what scares me.
You’ll take the hit. You’ll protect me. You’ll stand between him and me even if it costs you something.
And I can’t—” My voice broke. “I can’t be the reason anything happens to you or Tilly.
You’re finally in a place where you get to spend more time with her.
The Pennywhistle is everything; it’s your legacy.
It’s your livelihood. I won’t ruin that. I can’t.”
Silence fell, heavy as the snowfall outside.
Nate swallowed, eyes locked on mine. “Eliza… I love you.”
The words landed like a blow and a gift all at once. I sucked in a breath.
“I love you,” he said again, voice rough. “I’m in this. I’m in you. I don’t know when it happened, but it did, and I don’t want to pretend it didn’t to make things easier. You have to know. You’re important to me, Eliza. You’re everything.”
I felt like I was being torn in two because I felt the same.
“I love you, too,” I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks. “And that’s the problem. I love you too much to let you risk your daughter’s future for me.”
His face crumpled—just for a second. Just long enough for me to see the truth. The hope, the fear, the way he’d already handed me his heart without hesitation.
“Eliza,” he said, stepping toward me. “Please.”
“I can’t be the reason something bad happens,” I cried. “I can’t.” I set the mug down before I dropped it. “I need space. I need to think. And you—you need to be safe from me.”
He shook his head almost violently. “The safest place I’ve ever been is next to you.”
“Don’t,” I whispered, voice shaking. “Don’t make this harder.”
“I’m not trying to make it harder,” he said, pain threading through every word. “I’m trying to make you understand. When you know from the bottom of your soul someone is meant for you, you fight for them.”
I backed up until I hit the counter. Remy and Linguini circled my feet like they sensed the crack spreading down the middle of me.
“I need to be alone,” I said. “Just for a little while. I need to figure out how to keep you safe. I need to figure out how to be strong enough to take care of you, like you do for me.”
He stared at me as if the ground had shifted beneath him. “I don’t need protecting.”
“Maybe you don’t. But Tilly does. You’ll see that once you’re not right here.
When you’re back home and with her, then you’ll understand,” I whispered.
“That’s why you’re going to let me do this.
Just for now. Please give me some space to figure this out.
Please. It has to be me. I’m almost ashamed to tell you that if it weren’t for Tilly, I’d probably let you protect me.
And I want you to know—to believe—that if this works out for us that I’ll protect her too. She deserves that.”
His chest rose and fell, slow and tight.
“Okay,” he said finally. “If you need space, I’ll give it to you.”
My heart felt like it was tearing. “Thank you.”
He took a step back, then another, like each one cost him something. At the doorway, he paused.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “Even if you need distance. Even if you’re scared, I’m not leaving you alone in this. Call me when you need me. Anytime. I mean it, Eliza. Promise me you’ll call if you need me, so I can go.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as tears spilled hot and relentlessly. “I promise.”
When I opened my eyes, he wasn’t in the doorway anymore, but the room still felt full of him—his warmth, his steadiness, his hope.
And the terrible fear that loving him might break us both.
I clicked the door shut, soft as a breath, and the silence that followed felt like something sacred and ruined all at once. I stood there for a second, motionless, as if stillness might somehow rewind time, might take back the words I couldn’t unsay. Then, my legs gave out.
I sank to the floor, arms wrapped around myself, the wooden floor cold against my skin as sobs cracked free from my chest. Remy nudged against my knee, and Linguini curled close at my hip, but nothing could ease the ache clawing its way through me.
I had never felt so hollow and so full of love at the same time.
And it hurt. God, it hurt. Because I knew I hadn’t walked away from Nate to protect myself.
I’d done it to protect him and his daughter. And it still felt like breaking both our hearts.