15. Liz
Chapter fifteen
Liz
The soft creak of the door opening pulls me from my thoughts. My heart leaps when I see Nate step inside, his face pale and drawn, his shoulders hunched like he’s carrying the weight of the world.
“Nate!” I call out, rushing toward him before I can stop myself. “Where have you been?”
He pauses, clearly taken aback by the urgency in my voice. “Liz…”
“I’ve been worried sick,” I cut in, barely giving him room to explain. “I was looking all over for you! You didn’t answer your phone. I thought—”
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice soft but firm, cutting through my panic.
I stop, my arms crossing instinctively over my chest. “What happened? Where were you?”
He exhales deeply, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I got a call in the middle of the night. It was the hospital.”
I stare at him, the tension in my chest tightening. “The hospital?”
“It’s Becky,” he says, his voice heavy. “She was in an accident. A hit-and-run.”
The words land like a punch to the gut. Becky. Of course, it would be her.
“Is she okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, though my emotions are already spiraling.
“She’s stable,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “But… she’s claiming she doesn’t remember anything. The doctors think it might be amnesia caused by shock.”
I don’t know what to say. My mind is racing, a jumble of thoughts and feelings I can’t quite pin down. Becky. Vulnerable. Needing help. And Nate—Nate stepping in, because of course he would.
“What does this mean?” I ask finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the floor. “The doctors think it’s best if she’s in a familiar environment. Somewhere safe. They suggested… here.”
I blink, caught completely off guard. “Here?”
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he says quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “But it’s temporary. Just until she recovers. I wouldn’t do this if the doctor didn’t think it was necessary.”
I take a step back, needing the physical space to process what he’s saying. “Nate, this is your house. You can make whatever decisions you want.”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” he says, his tone firm but gentle. “I’m asking if you’re okay with it. I need to know how you feel about this.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat. How do I feel about this? Becky—his ex-wife, the woman who walked out on him and Max—is suddenly going to be living under the same roof as us?
But then I see the worry etched on his face, the guilt in his eyes, and I know I can’t let my emotions take over. Becky is in a vulnerable state, and if she needs help, who am I to stand in the way?
“I…” I start, then pause, forcing myself to breathe. “I don’t know how I feel about it, but I know what needs to be done. If this is what she needs to get better, then… we do it.”
His shoulders relax slightly, and he steps closer, his hand reaching for mine. “Thank you,” he says softly, his voice filled with gratitude.
I look up at him, my walls cracking just a little. “I’m not doing this for her,” I admit. “I’m doing it for you. For Max. Because that’s what matters.” Nate does so much for me and is so caring. How can I not be as supportive as he needs right now?
He squeezes my hand, and for a moment, we just stand there, the silence between us heavy, but not uncomfortable.
“I promise you,” he says finally, his voice steady and sure, “this is temporary. As soon as she’s better, she’ll be out of our lives.”
I nod, though a small part of me can’t help but wonder if it’s really going to be that simple.
***
When Nate picks Max up from school, he has a talk with him about Becky. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but absolutely necessary. He told me that it “went ok” whatever that means. But he does say that Max seems to be fine and took the information as if a guest was coming to stay. His memories of his mother are likely very slim, thankfully. I guess.
When he leaves to pick Becky up that evening, I try to keep myself busy. I clean the living room, straighten the cushions on the couch, and reorganize the books on the shelf - all things that don’t need doing but feel necessary in the moment.
By the time I hear the car pull into the driveway, my nerves are frayed. I wipe my hands on my jeans, forcing myself to stay calm as the front door opens.
And then I see her.
Becky’s arms are wrapped around Nate’s, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. She looks fragile, her face pale and her movements slow, but there’s something in her eyes - something that sets me on edge.
“Liz,” Nate says, his tone warm but cautious. “This is Becky.”
“Hi,” Becky says, her smile polite but not quite reaching her eyes. “Nate mentioned you’re Bryan’s sister. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I reply, forcing a smile.
Her gaze flickers over me, taking in every detail. “How long are you staying here?” she asks, her tone casual but pointed.
“Long enough,” I say evenly, refusing to rise to the bait.
“Alright,” Nate interjects quickly, his tone firm. “Let’s get you settled, Becky. You need to rest.”
But Becky’s mood shifts in an instant. Tears well up in her eyes, and she clutches Nate’s arm tighter. “The guest room? Why can’t I stay in our room?”
I freeze, the air leaving my lungs as Nate gently disentangles himself from her grip.
“Becky,” he says patiently, “the guest room is comfortable. You’ll be fine there.”
She starts to protest again, but Nate doesn’t seem able to take it anymore.
"I want to stay in our room," Becky whines.
Nate barely stops to think, he just says, "Fine, you can have the master bedroom.”
Immediately, her eyes light up while I stare at Nate like he has lost his mind. Why on earth will he be sharing the same room with her. Without a word, I turn on my heel and walk out of the room, my chest tight with frustration and something I refuse to call jealousy.
Minutes later, Nate knocks softly on my door before stepping inside.
“Liz,” he says cautiously, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” I repeat, my voice is sharper than I intended. “Are you seriously asking me that?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “If this is about Becky—”
“Of course it’s about Becky!” I cut in, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “You introduce me as Bryan’s sister, let her question why I’m here, and then give her your bedroom like it’s nothing. How do you think that makes me feel?”
His eyes widen slightly, and he steps closer, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “Liz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not staying in the master, Liz. I’ve moved my things to the other guest room, ok?”
I take a shaky breath, my voice softening. “It’s not just that, Nate. It’s… everything. It feels like she’s back, and I don’t know where I fit into all of this.”
He reaches for me, his hands resting gently on my arms. “You fit, Liz. I promise you, you fit.”
“But she’s here,” I say, my voice breaking. “And I can’t help but feel like I’m in the way.”
“You’re not in the way,” he says firmly. “Becky’s chapter in my life is closed. This is just about helping her get better. That’s it.”
I search his eyes, looking for any trace of doubt, but all I see is sincerity.
“Do you mean that?” I ask quietly.
“Every word,” he says, his voice steady. “You mean more to me than she ever did.”
The weight of his words settles over me, and for the first time all day, I feel a glimmer of relief.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, tears slipping down my cheeks.
“Don’t be,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “I understand. And I promise, I'm only doing what she wants because the doctor advised that I should ensure she feels everything is still normal and it will help her regain her memory.”
"It's hard."
"I know and I'm sorry. I just want her to recover fast so she can be out of here."
I nod, trying to accept all of this. We hold each other for a long moment, the tension between us slowly unraveling.
As I pull back, I wipe at my eyes, offering him a shaky smile. “I just… I don’t want to lose this. Lose us.”
“You won’t,” he says firmly. “Becky is in the past. You’re my present, Liz. And my future.”
My breath catches at his words, and I nod, unable to speak.
For now, it’s enough.
***
It’s only been a week since Becky arrived, but it feels like a decade. The house, once warm and full of life, now feels suffocating, like the walls are closing in on me. Breakfasts, which used to be filled with laughter and light teasing, are now a strained affair. Becky always manages to sit next to Nate, and while she smiles and laughs as if nothing’s wrong, I can feel the tension.
I glance at Nate across the table as he pours syrup over Max’s pancakes. He’s trying, I can see that, but it’s like Becky’s presence has put a wedge between all of us. I try to tell myself it’s fine, that this is temporary, but the doubt in my chest grows louder with every passing moment.
“Dad, can we still go to the park this weekend?” Max asks, his fork dangling in midair as he looks expectantly at Nate.
Nate glances at me briefly before nodding. “Of course, buddy. We’ll go.”
“Yay!” Max cheers, turning to me. “You’ll come, right, Liz?”
Before I can respond, Becky chimes in, her tone light but pointed. “Why would Max go with Liz when he can go with his mom?”
Her words hang in the air, sharp and cutting. Max’s smile falters, and he looks between Becky and me, his small face full of confusion.
I force a smile, even though my chest tightens painfully. “Becky’s right,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “You should go with your mom, Max.”
“No!” Max protests, his voice rising in distress. “I want to go with Liz! Please, Dad, tell her she has to come.”
I open my mouth to argue, to insist that it’s fine, but Nate steps in before I can. “How about everyone goes together?” he suggests, his tone calm and measured.
Becky’s smile tightens, but she doesn’t argue. Max seems appeased, but I can’t shake the weight pressing down on me.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. Becky continues her quiet attempts to fit back into Nate’s life, sliding into conversations and moments as though she’s always belonged. And maybe she does.
I sit in the living room later that evening, watching Max play with Boomer. He’s laughing, his joy untouched by the undercurrents of tension swirling around us. It’s a beautiful sight, but it only deepens my doubts.
What am I still doing here?
I glance toward the hallway, where Becky had disappeared earlier. I can’t ignore how much she seems to want to reclaim her place in Nate’s life. She’s the mother of his child, after all. Wouldn’t it make sense for them to be a family again?
The thought twists painfully in my chest, but I can’t ignore it. I’ve tried to tell myself that Nate has moved on, that I have a place here, but Becky’s presence makes it impossible to believe.
I know that I can’t do this anymore.
With a deep breath, I stand and make my way to Nate’s study. My heart pounds as I knock softly on the door, hesitating for just a moment before stepping inside.
Nate looks up from his desk, his brow furrowing in concern. “Liz? What’s wrong?”
I close the door behind me, crossing my arms as I try to find the right words. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay,” he says, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair. “What’s going on?”
I take a shaky breath, my throat tight. “I think… I think it’s time for me to move out.”
His eyes widen, and he stands abruptly. “What? Why?”
I look away, unable to meet his gaze. “I just… I don’t think I belong here anymore.”
“Liz,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “That’s not true. What’s going on? Did something happen?”
I shake my head, swallowing hard. “It’s not about one thing, Nate. It’s… everything. Becky’s here, and she’s…” I trail off, struggling to put my feelings into words.
“She’s what?” he prompts, stepping closer.
“She’s trying to fit back into your life,” I say finally, my voice trembling. “And maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe she should be here, with you and Max. As a family.”
He frowns, his jaw tightening. “Liz, you are part of this family, and Becky is absolutely only a temporary person passing through. Can’t you see that?”
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “No, I can’t. Not really. I’m just… Bryan’s sister. A guest in your house. I don’t have a place here.”
“That’s not true,” he insists, his voice rising slightly. “You do have a place here. With me. With Max.”
“But for how long?” I ask, meeting his gaze at last. “Until Becky decides she wants to stay? Until you realize it’s easier to go back to what you had?”
His expression softens, and he steps closer, his hand reaching for mine. “Liz, that’s not going to happen.”
“How do you know that?” I whisper, my voice breaking.
He squeezes my hand, his eyes searching mine. “Because I know what I want. And it’s not Becky. It’s you.”
My breath catches, but I shake my head, pulling my hand away. “I can’t do this, Nate. I can’t stay here and watch you rebuild your life with her.”
“I’m not rebuilding anything with her,” he says firmly. “She’s here because she needs help, not because I want her back.”
“Then why does it feel like she’s taking over?” I ask, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. “Why does it feel like I’m the one who doesn’t belong?” In the back of my mind I know that my fears and anger are not one hundred percent valid, but emotionally I’m in another place.
“Liz, please,” he says, stepping even closer. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave.”
I shake my head, tears spilling down my cheeks. “Why? Why should I stay?”
“For us,” he says, his voice breaking.
I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest, and I ask, “Do you love me, Nate?”
He freezes, the words hanging between us like a challenge. His silence is answer enough.
I nod, my heart shattering as I take a step back. “That’s what I thought.”
“Liz, wait,” he says, reaching for me, but I step out of his reach.
“I need to go,” I say quietly, my voice trembling. “I need to figure out where I belong.”
I turn and leave the study, my chest tight with a mix of pain and determination. This is the right thing to do, I tell myself. For Nate. For Max. For me.
But as I close the door behind me, the tears come in earnest, and I know this is going to hurt more than anything I’ve ever faced.
I asked. He didn’t reply. That’s it.