Chapter Thirty-Three Sienna
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sienna
I’m back in bed, and it’s dark outside the window. Arthur stayed for a while, updating us on the situation with the police, but he left soon after.
Amanda has also left the hospital. She went home an hour ago with plans to return to school in the morning.
Now it’s just Nate and me. He sits beside me and raises my good hand to his lips. He kisses it for about the hundredth time.
“Amanda told me you made cinnamon toast for her,” I say as we watch the night nurse write her name on the whiteboard.
“It was nice to talk to her,” Nate replies. “She’s grown up to be strong, just like we knew she would.”
“We did a good job with her,” I add.
“No, you did a good job. I was barely around.”
I appreciate his concession, but despite recent circumstances, I can’t take all the credit.
“That’s not entirely true. In the early days, you were around more than I was, and she remembers everything about that—the donkey rides and the Halloween costumes.
Do you remember taking her and Connor out when you were Luke, Leia, and Darth Vader? ”
Nate chuckles softly. “That was one for the history books.”
I smile warmly as I remember them posing for pictures at the front door.
It’s remarkable how memories can become lost or distorted over time. Sometimes, through the lens of unhappiness, they make you see falsehoods. Or you remember only the bad.
Other times, they bring you back to the truth.
We sit for a moment, saying nothing, just watching each other until Nate reaches for his phone on the side table.
A familiar tension heats my blood. I turn my head on the pillow and look away from him.
But I don’t want to fall back into those old habits where I feel slighted, when my knee-jerk reaction is to blame him and shut him out.
I don’t want anything to taint what happened in the hall earlier, when our eyes first met and we were overjoyed to see each other.
It was happiness in its purest form, just like it used to be, in the beginning.
I look at him again, and he’s scrolling. “Anything important?” I ask, hoping that after everything we’ve just been through, he’s gained the capacity to read me better.
His eyes lift and meet mine. I cling to a fragile hope that he won’t wave his hand at me dismissively.
“It’s a bunch of messages from the restaurant,” he explains.
“Is everything okay?”
He sets his phone on the side table again. “It’s fine. The staff is sending good wishes, saying they’re glad I got out of jail.” He takes my hand again and kisses it. “We’re closed tonight because of my arrest. You probably know it was on the six o’clock news yesterday.”
I shake my head on the pillow. “I wish that hadn’t happened.”
“I don’t,” he replies. “Seeing you in a coma and spending the night in jail was a huge wake-up call for me, and I needed it.”
“I needed a wake-up call too.”
I find myself thinking of Jacob and his wisdom in heaven—or in my dreams, whatever that was.
If there was a part of me that continued to compare Nate with the perfection of my first love, in my youth, I feel ready to let go of that, because Jacob was right.
Life is messy. There’s no such thing as perfect. I understand that now.
Nate gazes into my eyes. “I don’t want to go back to how we were before.”
“I don’t either.” Yet I’m still hesitant, and I have to voice that. “But will you ever be able to step back from the restaurant? You’ve made so many promises in the past, and I always believed you were sincere when you made them. But the next day, it was the same old thing.”
“It’ll be different this time,” he says. “I promise.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Can you please choose different words next time? I’ve heard those too many times.”
There’s a comforting softness in his expression. “Duly noted.”
The night nurse reenters the room with a cheerful smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I reply.
She checks the monitors, then reaches into the shirt pocket of her scrubs to retrieve a syringe. “It’s time for your pain meds, but the doctor ordered a lower dose for tonight. He wants to start scaling back so that you can get out of here.”
“I’m on board for that.”
She administers the medication, and after she leaves, I find myself studying the hints of gray in Nate’s hair and the lines around his eyes. His cheeks are stubbled because he hasn’t shaved in a while. I notice traces of gray in his beard as well.
“Can I talk to you about something?” he asks.
“Of course.” It’s been so long since we’ve communicated openly with each other, without walls of defense between us and weapons armed for our own agendas. I’m determined to be receptive and nonjudgmental.
“When I was in the car with Amanda,” he tells me, “she made a comment about Martina, something about her not being able to survive a night at the restaurant without me.”
“That’s interesting.” Clearly my daughter had my back while I was comatose. “Tell me more.”
Nate turns my hand over in his. “I hope you never imagined that there was anything going on between us, because there isn’t.”
After some contemplation, I decide that I believe him, but that doesn’t mean the problem doesn’t exist. As far as Nate’s concerned, there’s been nothing to worry about, but only because he’s been obsessed with other things.
He’s been oblivious to the needs of his family, just as he’s been oblivious to the flirtations of his house manager.
“I believe you,” I say. “I trust that nothing’s ever happened, but I’ve also seen the way Martina looks at you, and I’ve seen her texts. She’s very flirty.”
Nate grimaces and speaks apologetically. “She is, but I honestly think that’s just her personality.”
A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “I don’t think so, and obviously Amanda doesn’t think so either.”
Nate stares at me with a blank expression, but there’s nothing blank about what’s going on in that head of his. I know him too well. I see the wheels turning.
He reaches for his phone and starts tapping and swiping. I wait patiently but recognize the effects of the pain medication the nurse just administered. My eyes are growing heavy.
“I’m reading some of her texts,” Nate says. “She is kind of flirty.”
“You don’t say.”
He continues to scroll. “She uses a lot of heart emojis. No one else does that except for you. Although not so much lately.”
I let my eyes fall closed and leave him to evaluate the situation. I’m just starting to drift off when he gets up from the chair.
“I’m going to give her a quick call and deal with this,” he says.
My eyes fly open, and part of me wants to suggest that he think on it first and strategize, but I’m too tired to talk anymore.
He leans over me and kisses my cheek. “Get some rest. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I nod, fall fast into sleep, and float into my dreams, where I’m in our kitchen, cooking, while Oscar sniffs around my feet, waiting for food to drop.
The sky outside the window is growing light. “Good morning,” Nurse Katie softly says.
“Good morning,” I reply.
“Do you need some help getting to the bathroom?”
She must be reading my mind, because I don’t trust myself to walk steadily just yet. “Yes, please.”
She raises the head of my bed and lowers the side rail. Only then do I realize we’re not alone. Nate sits up in the visitor’s chair in the corner by the window and stretches his arms over his head.
“You stayed all night?” I ask.
“Yeah. Becky was with the kids.”
I realize this is a new reality for me—having an attentive husband who prioritizes me over everything else.
“Did you sleep okay?” I ask. “That chair doesn’t look too comfortable.”
“Compared to my night in jail, this was a five-star hotel.”
The nurse supports me under my good arm as I swing my legs to the floor. “We’re all glad to see you out of there,” she says to Nate. “I love your restaurant, by the way. That’s where my fiancé proposed to me.”
He sits up a little straighter. “No kidding. When was that?”
“About six months ago.”
“What did you have?” he asks. “I hope it was good.”
“Honestly, I don’t even remember. I just remember the candlelight and how it reflected off my ring.”
I give Nate a private smirk because I know that response will drive him mad. For him, it’s all about the food.
He simply grins and shrugs at me. Maybe there’s hope for him after all.
When I emerge from the bathroom, the nurse is gone and Nate is sitting forward on the edge of the chair, elbows on knees, reading his phone. He looks up and immediately slides the phone into his back pocket. “I need coffee. Do you want anything from the cafeteria?”
I take in his appearance—the greasy hair, a faint sheen of oil on his face, and his wrinkled clothing. “You haven’t been home in two days. Why don’t you go take a shower, change, have breakfast, and come back later?”
He looks down at himself. “Is it that bad?”
“Kind of,” I reply with affection as I climb into bed and glance at the clock on the wall. “The kids probably haven’t left for school yet. If you go now, you’ll see them. And if you feel like it, you could let Oscar out. Or, better yet, take him for a walk. He’ll be your new best friend.”
Nate adjusts the blue sheet on my bed to make sure it covers my feet. “I could use a friend. Are you sure you’ll be okay for a while?”
“Positive. They’ll be bringing breakfast soon.”
Nate hesitates, and I appreciate this side of him—a caregiving side that I haven’t seen in years.
I use my good hand to fan my face. “Please go, because you’re starting to reek.”
He smiles. “Message received, loud and clear.” He moves to collect his jacket from the chair and promises to return before lunch.
It’s surprising how busy and exhausting it can be, lying in a hospital bed all day. The nurses come in to change my bandage, the doctor makes his rounds with a group of medical students, and three bouquets of flowers arrive.