Chapter Thirteen
Brief Breath of Time
Ariana
Present
Nathan was in a good mood when he got home.
I knew it the second I heard him humming as he kicked off his shoes in the entryway, the sound light and unburdened in a way that made my shoulders loosen.
He appeared in the kitchen moments later, sleeves already rolled up, smile easy as he crossed the space between us and pressed a kiss to my temple.
Sometimes, when I saw him like that, I could remember why it was so easy to fall in love with him.
“Hey,” he said airily, sweeping me up into his arms. I tried not to be stiff under his kiss. “I missed you today.”
The words landed softly, warmly. I didn’t realize I’d been needing to hear them.
“Hey, yourself,” I replied, smiling despite myself. “You saw me this morning.”
“Far too long ago.” He glanced around the kitchen, taking in the clean counters, the candles I’d lit, the simmering pot on the stove. “Something smells good.”
“I made your favorite,” I said. “The lemon chicken.”
His brows lifted. “With the pine nuts?”
“Of course. And I finally finished unpacking.”
“Completely?”
I smiled in victory. “Not a box left in sight. I took all the cardboard to recycling, too.”
“Well,” he said, reaching for a spoon and stealing a taste from the chicken before he hummed his approval and wrapped me in his arms again. “I’m clearly under appreciating you. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”
I laughed, the sound easy and real, and for a moment — just a brief breath of time — it felt like we were newly married again, like this house wasn’t something I tiptoed through, like I wasn’t constantly gauging his mood before I spoke.
We ate together at the island, knees brushing, his phone conspicuously face-down for once. He asked about my day, about how things were going with Sweet Dreams, about my opinion on the outdoor furniture we needed to buy.
After dinner, he surprised me by loading the dishwasher himself, swatting my hands away when I tried to help. “Go sit,” he said. “You cooked.”
I did, curling into the corner of the couch as he joined me a while later, draping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in. His thumb traced slow, absent patterns along my arm.
“I want you to come to the game with me tomorrow night,” he said casually.
I tilted my head back to look at him. “Tomorrow?”
“It’ll be a big game,” he said. “I think you’ll have fun. Plus, it’s important for the team and staff to see you there. Supporting, you know.”
Ah. There it was.
I want you to come with me because it looks right, not because I actually want to spend time with you.
“Of course,” I said, my smile weak. “I can do that.”
“Good.” He kissed the top of my head. “I leave for Vegas early the next morning.”
I nodded, a strange mix of emotions stirring in my chest at the reminder. He was going for business, and him traveling for business wasn’t odd. However, I’d never known him to go to Vegas, and as someone who’d never been before, I wondered what kind of mischief he’d get into while he was there.
And then there was the storm of emotions I felt at the prospect of him being gone for a while, of me having a weekend to myself.
Relief. Guilt. Excitement.
I could walk around the house without eggshells beneath my feet. I could do whatever I wanted.
There was a beautiful freedom in that.
“Oh, speaking of which,” he said, still rubbing circles on my shoulder. “While I’m gone, the crew will be here to install our cameras for the house. It’ll probably be Saturday.”
“I forgot about those,” I admitted.
“It’ll be good, since we don’t have a private gate. I know the community is safe, but it will make me feel better. Especially for when I’m gone on trips and you’re here by yourself.”
I smiled. “That was almost sweet.”
He smirked back at me. “Gotta make sure my wife is safe.”
For some reason, that wording made my stomach dip a bit. It almost sounded like a threat more than a doting promise.
I didn’t let myself linger on it.
“I was thinking,” I said carefully, “after you get back… Maven invited me to a craft night. Just something small with her and Grace and some of their friends. She does them once a month.”
Nathan immediately stilled.
“Oh,” he said after a beat. “So I get home from a work trip, and you’re already making plans to be somewhere else?”
The warmth drained from my chest.
“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “It’s just one evening. I thought it might be nice to—”
“To what?” he asked, still calm, still aiming for a reasonable tone. “Unwind from being alone all weekend?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I just figured you’d want to spend time together,” he said. “After I’ve been gone.”
I swallowed. “I do. I just — this would be later. Like the next weekend. And I don’t really know anyone here yet.”
He sighed, rubbing his jaw. “I’m not saying you can’t go, Ari. I just don’t love the timing.”
Of course he didn’t.
“Well, let’s see how we feel. Maybe I’ll only go if you’re busy with work that night. Otherwise, I’ll stay home with you,” I said because it felt safer than pushing back.
“That’s a great compromise,” he replied, the tension easing immediately. And then the moment passed, just like that, leaving me wondering if I’d imagined the manipulation of it all.
After about a half hour of watching a show together, Nathan stood and stretched. “I need to take a call. Work stuff. Should probably pack a little, too.”
“Need help?”
“I got it. You relax.”
He kissed my head and disappeared down the hall.
His office door clicked shut behind him.
After our conversation, I felt too uneasy to sit still and watch TV any longer. I turned it off, tidying up the kitchen before I padded down the hallway with the intent to wash my face, do a little light stretching, climb into bed, and read.
I hadn’t meant to listen as I passed his office.
But his voice carried, and it was low and threatening
“I don’t care what the odds say,” he snapped. “That’s not what we discussed.”
He paused, and so did my feet. I stood just outside his office with my heart pounding in my ears.
“No — because that makes it obvious.”
I frowned, carefully inching a little closer.
“I told you I’d take care of it. You’re not supposed to move anything without clearing it with me.”
What is he talking about?
“Jesus. Do you have any idea what that looks like?” There was a beat of silence and then — “Just—fix it. And don’t call me about this again.”
Immediately, I continued down the hall, walking as fast as I could while not making a sound. I ducked into our bedroom just as I heard his office door open.
Nathan stepped into our en suite bathroom behind me a few minutes later with his expression smoothed and polished.
“I think I’ll pack tomorrow,” he said on a tired sigh, already reaching for his toothbrush. “It’s been a rough day, and I work with a bunch of idiots.”
I nodded, my pulse loud in my ears. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Just people panicking about money they don’t understand.”
Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist.
Later, Nathan climbed into bed when I was reading, planting a tender kiss on my cheek before he rolled over and turned out the light.
He scrolled on his phone next to me, and my thoughts churned on with my e-reader stuck on the same page.
What was that call? It was so strange, and so late to be taking a call at all. Then again, he was about to be in Vegas for work, and they were three hours behind us… maybe that was all it was?
That led my thoughts to his trip, to the myriad of emotions I felt guilty for feeling about it.
I was looking forward to him being gone. To the silence. To not choosing my words so carefully. To breathing in my own house.
But I was also lonely here. I was in a new city with no roots yet. And for all our fractures and fault lines, Nathan was my husband. His presence filled space, even when it made me uneasy.
After a while, Nathan put his phone on the charger before leaning over to kiss my shoulder. “I’ll miss you,” he murmured. “While I’m gone.”
“I’ll miss you too,” I said.
It wasn’t a lie. I would miss him.
I also couldn’t wait for him to go.
Both things were true.
And I didn’t know what that said about me.