Chapter 35
The Cracks Exposed
N ate hadn’t slept in two days. The house had become a labyrinth of silences and echoes. Lila was in and out of rest, too weak for full conversations. Her voice had grown thin, a whisper of the woman she once was.
And the kids were… different.
Ava didn’t look at him the same. Not with the guarded warmth she used to carry. Her eyes were sharp now, too quiet. Too knowing. Caleb barely spoke to him at all, except when he had to. And even then, it came clipped and formal, like a stranger.
He told himself it was the cancer. The grief. Kids don’t process pain well.
But deep down, something twisted in his gut. Ava had been watching him.
On Thursday night, Nate found himself pacing in his home office, the door half-cracked open. Camille had texted twice—short, irritated messages. You’ve vanished. What’s happening? I’m not a secret you can shelve when things get hard.
He didn’t answer.
He couldn’t afford to.
It was all coming apart. And yet he couldn’t stop himself from rereading her texts over and over, like a man craving the flame even as it scorches.
He was still staring at his screen when the sound of a soft thud pulled his attention.
He turned sharply—just in time to see the hallway shadows shift.
Footsteps. Light. Fading.
Nate stood slowly, creeping toward the door. He stepped into the hall.
Empty.
◆◆◆
The next morning, Ava didn’t meet his eyes at breakfast. She didn’t speak when he said good morning. And when she stood to clear her plate, she left behind something on the table. A piece of folded paper.
Nate frowned. “Ava, you forgot—”
“I didn’t forget,” she said without turning back.
He picked it up slowly, something prickling across his skin.
It was a printout. Of a hotel reservation. His name. Camille’s initials. A single night, weeks ago.
His heart stopped.
His mind scrambled for an explanation, but it wouldn’t come.
On the back of the paper, in Ava’s neat, controlled handwriting, it read: You’re not who you pretend to be.
And in that moment, Nate realized, they knew.
Not just suspected.
They knew.
He gripped the edge of the counter, the paper trembling in his hand. His throat was dry, his chest constricting.
Down the hall, Caleb's door slammed. He had lost them.
Not just Lila—but Ava and Caleb, too. And he wasn't even sure if he deserved to get them back. Nate didn’t expect her to come to him.
After the paper on the table, the stiff silence, the storm behind her eyes—he expected avoidance. Maybe anger from Caleb. But not Ava, standing now in the doorway of his office like a mirror he didn’t want to face.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, voice flat.
He nodded slowly. “Come in.”
She didn’t sit. She stood just inside the room, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes weren’t red. No tears. Just a kind of quiet fire burning beneath her skin.
“Do you love her?” she asked.
Nate blinked. “Ava—”
“Just answer me.”
His mouth opened, then closed.
“I—I don’t know if that’s the right question,” he said eventually, voice hoarse.
She laughed. A dry, broken sound.
“That’s not an answer.”
He ran a hand through his hair.
“I made a mistake. A huge one. One that started small and grew, and I kept telling myself I could handle it, that it wouldn’t touch any of you.”
“But it did, Dad.” Her voice cracked for the first time.
“It is. Mom’s in a hospital bed, Caleb can barely look at you, and I’m the one trying to hold us together while you were out…” She shook her head, unable to say it.
“I never stopped loving your mother,” he said, desperate now.
“Then how could you do this to her?”
The words sliced through the room.
Nate swallowed hard. “Because I was weak. Because I was selfish. Because something in me broke a long time ago and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. Camille—she made me feel seen when I didn’t feel like a man anymore. I didn’t think Lila wanted me. Not really.”
Ava flinched.
“You know what’s disgusting? That you’re trying to justify it. You cheated on her. For years. You didn’t just hurt her—you betrayed her.”
Nate’s chest caved under the weight of her words.
“I know. I know I did.”
She shook her head, fighting back tears.
“I used to think you were the safest person in the world. That no matter what happened, you’d never lie to us.”
“Ava—”
“I found the photos on your phone. From months ago. I saw the texts. The hotel receipts. Caleb saw you hugging her in public. Do you think we’re stupid?”
“No—God, no.” His voice broke.
“You’re not. You’re both so much smarter than I ever gave you credit for. I just… I was scared. I thought I could end it before it came to this.
But I didn’t. And I’m so sorry.”
Ava didn’t speak for a long moment. Her arms were trembling now, clenched too tightly against herself.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” she whispered.
“I have apologized to your mother,” he said, shame thick in his throat.
“But you’re still seeing her, aren’t you?” Ava’s voice turned to ice.
Nate hesitated.
“I haven’t seen Camille since the hospital scare,” he said. “Not once.”
“But you want to.”
His silence said everything.
She wiped her face once, hard. “You don’t get to use grief as an excuse to keep destroying us.”
“I’m not trying to destroy you,” he whispered.
“But you are.”
Ava turned to leave, pausing at the door.
“You’re going to lose us. All of us. If you haven’t already.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
And Nate sat there in the quiet, haunted by the truth in her words.