Chapter 45
SADIE
“Look at these floor-to-ceiling windows.” I don’t even give myself the chance to enjoy the incredible view. I continue my tour up the spiral staircase to another floor of the chalet. My head falls back, looking up. “A glass roof!” I tear my eyes from the master bedroom and walk to the bathroom. The most gorgeous Jacuzzi tub sits in the center with a glass shower on the side.
“There’s not a lot of doors in this place, is there?” Nash follows behind, glancing around. “I’ll just stay on the couch on the lower level and use that half-bath down there. You can have all of this.”
“You don’t have to stay on the couch. We’re grown adults. We can lie beside each other on a bed and be fine. Besides, I’d never want to take this incredible view away from you.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening.” The words come out with a distressed sigh, making me think he’s a little more apprehensive about sharing this chalet than I am.
Should I be more like him, thinking cautiously about the arrangement instead of being won over by floor-to-ceiling windows?
There’s a history here. I’m not naive to the fact that, one year ago, I pushed Nash out of my life, but I was lost back then, coping with a new reality that didn’t make sense. My mind lived in constant fog and confusion. It took months of being patient with myself to get where I am today.
I’ve healed a lot this past year. And although I wasn’t seeking or looking for love, I can’t deny how my heart came alive when I saw Nash on the train. Like it truly beat for the first time since I woke up from my coma. It’s the feeling I kept looking for last December. The confirmation that, although my head couldn’t remember him, my heart could. And for the first time in a long time, I’m excited about what could be.
I didn’t want to leave Nash at the train station and go our separate ways. I hoped he’d suggest we meet somewhere, but then he offered the chalet, which seemed like the perfect chance to spend more time with him.
I just have to find out if Nash is willing to see where things could lead.
Or maybe I’m too much of a risk.
He walks toward the stairs. “I’ll let you unpack and do whatever you planned to do tonight.”
“I was going to go get some dinner.” I step forward, showing my eagerness. “Would you like to join me?”
“Uh…” He drags his fingers through his hair. “Sure, why not?” His arm drops dramatically. “I have to eat.”
“So should we change and say leave in a half hour?”
“Sounds good.” He nods a few times then heads down to the lower section.
NASH
Keeping my feelings for Sadie in their proper lane is a mental gymnastics I did not train for. It’s only been one hour of staying together, and I’m already exhausted.
I brought this on myself by inviting her here, but the chalet is incredible. I had to share it with her, especially when I know how excited the old Sadie was about this place.
But now we’re going to dinner together.
It doesn’t mean anything.
I know that.
But what if it does?
I pace back and forth in front of the windows, trying to get control over my thoughts. It’s negative ten degrees outside, but I’m sweating like I’m in a sauna.
“How do I look?” Sadie says behind me.
I turn just as she steps down the last two stairs. My hand goes to my chest in self-preservation, as if I can somehow stop my heart from leaping out.
“You look great.” I’m embarrassed by how rattled my voice sounds and by my chosen adjective.
Sadie looks more than great. Her black turtleneck dress fits her body snuggly, like a wool glove, wrapping each curve in a way that’s hard not to notice. I’m a big fan of the healthy weight she’s put back on. It does wonders for her body. The hem of the sweaterdress is short, showing off her thighs until knee-high black boots take over.
It’s a deadly look for a man’s heart—a man who is hopelessly in love with her.
“You look pretty impressive yourself.” Her gaze scans me. “I like your button-up shirt.”
My eyes drop to the blue fabric with a paisley pattern inside the collar, lapels, and cuffs. “You bought this for my birthday last year. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I have excellent taste.”
Momentarily, I get caught up in her charming smile before snapping out of it. The goal tonight is to keep things moving. Too much time in one place is dangerous.
“Should we go?” I gesture to the door. “I made a reservation at the hotel restaurant.”
“That sounds amazing.”
She walks in front of me, and I fist my fingers to keep myself from placing a hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the room and down the hall. It hurts that I can’t do that—can’t be with her how I want to.
Our table is ready when we arrive at the restaurant, and of course, it’s something romantic with candles, a view, and a crackling fire.
We would’ve loved this last year. The old Sadie and Nash would’ve made the most of every romantic spot. Meanwhile, the new Sadie and Nash try to figure out how to be exes who are friends who don’t touch each other. Or maybe I’m the only one trying to figure that out. She seems completely at ease and relaxed.
“I think I’m going to get the filet mignon.” Her guilty grimace makes me smile.
“I’m glad to see you still like to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
“Oh my gosh, I do. When in Rome!” She laughs. “I can’t believe you know and remember that about me.”
I remember everything about her. Those memories make the days long and the nights even longer. But Sadie doesn’t need to hear my tragic broken-heart story.
“Get whatever you want.” I carefully place a cheerful expression on my face. “My treat.”
“No!” She grabs my arm, and I tense my body in defense. “Let me pay. It’s the least I can do for forgetting you and then divorcing you.”
A surprised laugh escapes. “Yes, I think a two-hundred-dollar meal should cover all the emotional damage.”
Her hand returns to her side of the table, making it easier to breathe again. “Well, order dessert. Let’s make sure you’re adequately covered.”
“It’s cheaper than therapy, so obviously I will.”
“Nash, all joking aside, I’m sorry about how things ended between us.”
I put on a brave face. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“But I want to. I shouldn’t have gone to Stetson’s house on Christmas Eve. It was stupid and insensitive of me.”
“It’s understandable. You still had feelings for him.” Even saying it out loud hurts.
“It wasn’t so much about having feelings for him as it was about familiarity and normalcy. I craved stability, and because I could remember him, Stetson felt stable. I confused my feelings with my need to feel secure in who I was.” She shakes her head. “It probably doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. You did what you had to do to survive. I don’t fault you for that.”
“You were more understanding than anyone else last year. Thank you for that.”
“Your happiness is all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I wanted you to be happy too, even though I couldn’t make it happen.” Her earnest smile morphs into something lighter. “I kept thinking how awesome it would be if my memory randomly came back one day. I pictured myself showing up at Superior Health or our brownstone and leaping into your arms or doing some crazy grand gesture to make everything between us perfect again. I really wanted that for you. For us. ”
“Just promise me that if your memory ever does come back, I’ll be the first person you call.”
Sadie smiles. “I promise.”
We say the words, but we both know the reality.
Her memory is never coming back.
But it’s okay. Our relationship isn’t the same, and it’s been the worst, but she seems happy now, and I meant what I said. Her happiness is all I’ve ever wanted, even if it comes at the cost of mine.
SADIE
“So, besides traveling , what have you been up to this last year?” I reach for a warm roll from the basket in the center of the table.
Nash gestures to the waiter, calling him over.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, do you guys have ranch salad dressing?”
“We do.”
“Can you bring a side for her to dip her roll into?”
“Yes, of course.” The man smiles at me.
“Like, an obscene amount,” Nash reiterates. “She really loves ranch dressing.”
The waiter nods with a bow then rushes to the kitchen.
“Anyway, to answer your question”—Nash shrugs, unaware that he just rocked my world by remembering a small nuance of my personality—“I’ve mostly been working a ton. A lot of hours went into selling the company and putting that deal together.”
“Are you glad you sold Superior Health?”
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“After everything we’ve been through, honesty is a given between us, isn’t it?”
“It should be.”
I smile. “Then let me have the truth.”
“Selling the company was always the plan, I just did it sooner than I thought I would. So much about Superior Health was wrapped up in you. Once we got divorced, it was hard to go to work. Everything about the business reminded me of you. So selling it has been a good thing to help bring closure.”
“At least closure came with several zeroes attached to it,” I joke, hoping to show Nash I can handle his honesty and pain.
His brows lift in a teasing way. “I bet you regret taking our fifty-fifty split of Superior Health out of the divorce settlement.”
“I don’t need your money.” I lift my chin with mock arrogance. “I have my own business now.”
“Yes, you do.”
The waiter returns with a bowl of ranch dressing.
“Here you go, miss.”
“Thank you.” I nod at him before diving into another question. “So you got over me by selling your business. What else?”
“I never said I was over you. But I am trying. I’ve been talking with a therapist, spilling all our secrets. Actually, I’ve spoken with her before. You encouraged me to talk about my parents’ abandonment and Nolan’s death. I hate going, but I see how it helps to talk things through.”
I remember reading a text exchange between Nash and me where he talked about hating therapy. It was the first time after waking up from my coma that I saw Nash as a human being with wounds and pain, and I see it again today.
Not that I didn’t think he had things to work through, but seeing his strength through hard times and how he’s risen above all the bad in his life makes me respect him more.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist as well.”
He tilts his head, smiling back at me. “Look at us, being so mature with our pain.”
“Aren’t we something?”
“How are you doing with Tate’s death?”
“I still miss him. I don’t think that will ever go away, but the pain isn’t as sharp anymore. I can smile when I think about him and visit his grave without feeling the bitterness of grief. Did you feel like that with Nolan?”
“Yeah, the sting lessens as time goes by. That’s what I keep telling myself about you. Losing you felt like losing my brother. I grieved the same way I did when Nolan died. But each day, it gets a little better. With time, the loss won’t hurt so much.”
My lips pull upward. “You almost got rid of me. Then I ruined your hard work by showing up on the same train as you in Switzerland.”
“A happy surprise,” he says, and I wonder if he means it.
“I wouldn’t blame you if that isn’t true—if you’d rather go your separate way and pretend I never existed.”
“I don’t regret a single moment between us. I’d do it all over again if it meant three more happy years with you.”
Maybe we can do it all over again—minus the traumatic brain injury, memory loss, and divorce.
“That meal was delicious,” Nash says as we walk down the hall to our chalet. “I’m completely stuffed now.”
“So am I.” I hold my stomach where there’s a food pooch. “But I’m glad we did it. I don’t regret anything.”
“Me neither.” His green eyes glance down at me, sending my stomach swirling with butterflies.
This day with Nash feels like an amazing first date. Our connection is genuine and authentic. Maybe it’s because of our history, or maybe that’s how it always was between us. Love happens when you’re brave enough to let someone see your pain, and we’re past bravery—bearing our whole souls for the other to see.
So much about our past relationship accelerates how I feel right now. There’s a friendship at the base of everything and a knowledge that we’ve been through dark times and come out the other side. Every difficult conversation makes me like Nash more. And on top of that, I remember all too well what it feels like to kiss him—the tender way he holds my face whenever his lips brush mine.
All of this combines, making me want him even more.
So I’m dying for Nash to kiss me—put a bow on our twist-of-fate day.
There’s a very real possibility that I’m just a girl who wants to be kissed in Switzerland because it’s Christmas and romantic. But something tells me my feelings are more than that.
I smile up at him, trying to flirt. I’m rusty to the point of questioning whether I’ve actually flirted with a man before. I’m doing everything short of batting my freaking eyelashes just to give him the hint that I’m interested, but it doesn’t seem to work.
Nash flicks his gaze across my face then short-circuits for a second. That’s the only way to describe his faraway eyes and intense thinking face. He turns from me and walks over to his suitcase against the wall, causing my chest to fall in disappointment.
I thought it would be easier than this, especially with everything he said at dinner about not being over me.
“I’ll just sleep down here tonight.” He kicks off his shoes, removes his watch, and untucks his shirt. “You’ll enjoy the bed and stars more if I’m not there taking up space.”
That's probably not true.
Another round of disappointment wedges between my ribs, which is stupid since I’d planned to just sleep beside him. Nothing else.
He starts unbuttoning his shirt, and I have two choices: stay and watch him undress or go to my room.
I have to choose my room.
“Okay, well, thanks for sharing your chalet and your glass ceiling.”
“It’s our chalet.” He smiles, slowly working on those buttons.
Ugh, why is that so sexy?
“Right, our chalet.” I point upstairs. “I guess I’ll go get some sleep.”
There’s no opposition from him, so I climb the stairs one at a time, feeling defeated. Instead of heading to the closet to change out of my boots and dress, I throw myself onto the bed in a heap, glancing up at the stars.
Navigating my sudden feelings for Nash is more complicated than I expected. It’s exciting, but at the same time, I’m not used to this distant version of him. He’s always been the flirt, the pursuer, the driving force behind our relationship, but things are different now.
Our conversations were fine all day and night. But the second there’s dead space when something physical can happen, his walls go up. Those interactions are guarded, making me think he doesn’t trust me with his heart anymore. I understand why. I’m getting what I deserve. But just because I wasn’t ready one year ago doesn’t mean I couldn’t be ready now.
I’ve finally felt the emotional spark between us. I can’t just walk away from those feelings.
I have to try.
Fate brought Nash Carter back into my life, and now it’s up to me to keep him there.