Chapter 19 #2
This is the second time since we broke up that Nate’s turned up here.
It’s like he’s refusing to follow the DNR I put on our relationship even after I called the time of death.
I honestly don’t want to hash this out. I’ve told Nate over and over again I don’t have the time nor the energy.
I can’t stand it. I’ve been decisive but cool, so I need him to let me be done.
I don’t need Julian to shield me from this, even if I still haven’t figured out how to stop loving Nate. There’s no alternative with a man who doesn’t own his choices or respect mine.
Julian looks back over his shoulder, searching my face for confirmation that I’ll be okay. And because he respects my choices, he simply nods before walking into the hospital.
Once it’s just us, Nate’s gaze drops to the pavement as he stretches his arm out, offering me the coffee.
I click my tongue. “Just say what you came here to say.”
He wraps both hands around the paper cup, twisting it in his hold until the logo faces him, then me again. “Robyn, I’m—”
“Aren’t you tired of your apologies?” My words come out in an exhale of exhaustion. I don’t even bother to wait for his rehearsed little speech. “Because I’m tired of hearing them.”
His throat bobs. “I just want to say that you were very clear. You weren’t … stringing me along or anything. You were within your rights t-to be with whoever you decided to be.”
I fold my arms across my chest, and Nate’s eyes follow the movement. When he lifts them again, his copper-brown eyes are swirling with emotion. They’re not mine to care for any longer, but I can’t avoid registering them. His hurt pains me, but I can’t afford to let it change anything between us.
“I know all of that,” I say.
He wets his lips. “I don’t think less of you. I need you to know that. For what happened. Or what might happen while we aren’t together.” There’s hope in his stare, the lines around his eyes have smoothed, as if he’s so happy he’s getting the right words out.
I kick a tiny little stone on the concrete and scoff.
“That’d be pretty fucking ballsy of you.
” My voice is vibrating with tension, and he flinches, his jaw flexing as he looks away.
He shifts his weight, but I can’t help going for the jugular.
“And at least I’m single for anything that I decide to do, hm? ”
“I deserve that.” He dips his chin once, then lifts his head again, something stubborn lighting behind his eyes. “I also need you to know I’m not moving on. Not with Tessa. Not with anyone.”
The fucking nerve of him, as if that’s supposed to be some kind of absolution from the mistakes he hasn’t even admitted in the first place.
“Well, you’re within your rights to do that now.”
He shakes his head once, firm. His hand goes to his sternum and rubs the center. “It’s not what I want.” His next breath stutters, chin trembling. “I want you back, Robyn, and somehow, I keep messing everything up.”
Anger and grief twist inside me—two live wires that create a small explosion when their exposed ends finally meet.
“Nate, we were together for two and a half years.” I wait until his eyes meet mine before I add, “It took your best girl friend being back in town for less than a month for our relationship to implode under lies. What does that tell me about how much you want me?” My fists clench. “What does it tell you?”
He winces—shoulders tightening, fingers curling around the coffee cup until the lid buckles.
“I wasn’t … I wasn’t truthful. I own that.
But I also want to show you that I can do better.
” He smiles, but it’s tentative, shadowed with insecurity at the corners.
His eyes meet mine then slide away in the next beat.
“That month doesn’t cancel out everything else, right?
I was a damn near perfect boyfriend for the rest of it.
” His lashes flutter, stubbornness flashing through his expression.
“I cooked. I cleaned. I brought you coffee at the end of your shifts, and I want to do it all again. I even want to do more, Robyn. I want everything you wouldn’t let me do before … I want to do it now.”
A bark of humorless laughter escapes. “Do you even hear yourself?” I tilt my head, then fling a hand toward him.
“Bringing me coffee and making dinner is nice, but it’s by no means perfect.
I can order my own coffee and feed myself just fine.
I never loved you because of what you did.
I loved you because you were my partner.
Because your eyes lit up when you talked about architecture.
Because you made crappy jokes about cake even though you don’t like cooking shows.
” A shaky exhale makes me pause, and I have to shut my eyes to get through my next sentence.
“Because you made me feel like I could aim as high as I wanted and still come home to you.”
Coffee spills over the top of the paper cup when Nate flinches, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“I don’t know what happened, Nate, but you got lost.” My voice is hushed, barely a breath of air that the wind threatens to steal.
“You got impatient, lonely, or just in your head. But you couldn’t see the forest for the trees …
and that’s what killed us. It wasn’t Tessa.
This was never about her, not really. It was you. ”
Two long strides and he’s in my space. He’s so close his nose almost brushes mine, and he leans down until his breath fans over my lips. “Just tell me what to do. I’ve given you space, I’ve tried … but I can’t prove I only see you when I’m never around you.”
“You’re missing the point,” I say, my voice breaking.
All I can see is the familiar shape of his eyes and the fan of his lashes.
The bump along the bridge of his nose, and the way his hair curls just so on his forehead.
All I can see is him, knowing that he’s not mine anymore and I’m not his.
He may seem as distraught by it as I feel, but it’s not enough.
“You’re not asking yourself the right questions.
And I don’t have the energy to teach you how to love me.
” I close my eyes, blocking him out. “No, that’s not right.
It’s not my job to teach you how to love me, Nate.
That’s not—It’s not a relationship I want. ”
“But Robyn, I—”
“No.” My ribcage feels too small, my lungs too tight.
“If you wanted a partner … if you wanted me? The chance to figure it out was before that kiss. Especially before it went fucking public everywhere.” My voice trembles.
“You’re on your own now, Nate. Those nights you felt lonely?
Those Saturdays when I was working? You weren’t on your own.
But you are now.” I scoff. “Or I guess you’re not, I guess you have Tessa to fill your time with. ”
“Robyn, I told you—I’m not with Tessa.”
“And I’m telling you,” I whisper, “I’m not convinced you know a thing about yourself.”
He swallows hard and his breathing stutters. “You said you loved me. Past tense. Do you … not love me anymore?”
My mouth goes dry. “That’s a hard question.
I love the person you were when we built a life around supporting each other’s ambitions.
” I close my eyes, holding my love for what we used to be near to my heart, so much it’s hard to breathe with all the space it takes in my chest. Meeting his gaze, I add, “This version of yourself that just shut down? The version of you who couldn’t stand how my career leaves me little time for you?
This version of you has dulled the love I feel.
And, honestly, it’s the version I see when you stand in front of me. ”
His eyes widen—barely but enough that I feel the crack it makes.
“And it’s not even about Tessa,” I say, quieter now. “It’s—It’s that, at some point, you stopped believing in what we were building and you didn’t even notice.”
The coffee cup crumples in his clenched fist, the lukewarm liquid splashing onto his sleeve. And for one fragile moment, it looks like he might break right there on the hospital ramp.
“Hey, Robyn!” Someone claps me on the shoulder. I turn and see Dr. Howards, the head of general surgery.
“Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to wish you luck on your upcoming interview. I’m sure you’re going to knock their socks off.”
He pats my shoulder again, then heads inside, the doors sliding behind him.
Nate clears his throat. “You have an interview? Are you excited for the position?”
I notice the way his eyes catch the light, that spark of pride and excitement meant for me, and it’s maybe the most heartbreaking thing in the entire conversation.
Because this is the Nate who wanted for me exactly what I wanted for myself—the one I miss when I ache for what we had—and I allow myself a beat to savor it, to drink it in despite the sharp twist in my chest.
“Yes,” I manage, voice tight. “It’s a really great facility, and I’d work with both patients and clinical trials.”
“That’s amazing, Robyn.” He swallows thickly, jaw tight. “I hope you get it.”
Our eyes lock for a fraction longer than necessary.
And I know every single thing he’s feeling, because I’ve memorized him by heart over the last two and a half years.
There’s pride for my accomplishment shining in his irises, loss in the slump of his shoulders, and unspoken longing in the tightness of his fist around the coffee cup.
All I have left to give is a small nod. “I hope I do too.”
He tosses the destroyed coffee into the bin without another word, hands lingering on the edge of the trash like he’s letting go of more than just a cup. Then he turns and walks away.
He doesn’t know it, but he’s just wished me luck for an interview that will take me half a continent away, and as I watch him walk away, there’s a quiet, twisting emptiness in the pit of my stomach at knowing there’s no coming back this time.