Chapter 12 #2
Mari’s holiday cheer began to melt like an icicle in the sun.
As her wide-eyed sister gave Nima a judgmental look, weariness replaced cheer, the real world settling heavily on Mari’s shoulders.
Kat didn’t even know she was giving the stink eye to her brother-in-law.
Mari had told no one what had happened in Nevada.
And she never needed to. Mari and Nima’s marriage would soon be over, even as their new friendship developed.
But without knowing the details of their breakup, her sister had assumed it was Nima’s fault, regardless.
She protected her own. This could get ugly.
Mari motioned to the bench, and Nima helped her sit down. As he did, he said, “Good to see you, Kat,” like the polite, mature adult he was.
Mari made room for her sister, but Kat simply dropped her bag and stood with her fists on her hips glaring at Nima. “No wonder Tseten was so vague when I asked about you, Mari.”
Of course Tseten was behind this. Mari asked Kat, “Did he tell you about my accident? I apologize for not messaging sooner.”
Kat turned her piercing gaze on Mari, and it softened a fraction as she took in the air cast and crutches. “No, Tseten didn’t tell me. Isaac did.”
Ah, right. Mari had seen him at the clinic. Isaac and Kat were the same age and had several mutual friends. This town was so small. It was a wonder yeti remained a secret to anyone.
Kat continued, her tone accusatory. “Wildwood was near the epicenter of a large earthquake, and you stopped answering your phone, Mari. We were worried sick, so we contacted everyone. Mom and Dad were ready to fly home immediately. Then Tseten responded, telling us you’d been in an accident but were okay.
He said you had a caregiver, not that we knew what the fuck that meant or what kind of accident you’d been in.
” She waved a hand at Nima. “Apparently, he’s your caregiver?
” She didn’t hide the disdain in her voice.
Mari raised her hands in what she hoped was a placating manner. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s been an eventful two days. I didn’t mean to worry everyone. I should have checked my messages and called.”
Kat let out an exasperated sigh as she pulled out her phone, her thumbs flying over her screen as she presumably tapped out a message to their parents. “I’m here now. My suitcase is in the car, so I can stay with you. Nima is free to go.”
Go? Mari blinked at Kat’s bag, realization dawning.
With her sister here, Nima didn’t have to be Mari’s caregiver.
She glanced between Nima and Kat, anxiety rising.
She wasn’t ready for Nima to leave. She’d assumed they’d fall asleep—naked—in her bed again tonight.
But she also wanted a divorce. Ugh. She couldn’t make sense of her wants and needs right now. She blamed the damned spruce tree.
As Mari warred with herself, Nima cleared his throat. “Ah, finally someone with actual caregiving abilities.”
Mari raised an eyebrow. What the hell was he talking about? He’d taken such good care of her. And Kat? Well, her strength lay in going to battle for loved ones, not in tending their wounds afterward.
Nima continued, “I’m sorry the accident happened, but I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time.” He turned to Kat and said, “I can go over Mari’s care plan with you, although now that she’s more alert today, she can explain everything herself.”
Kat didn’t look up from her phone screen. “My sister can fill me in.”
Mari tried to stand, a mild panic setting in.
“Nima, you don’t have to go. You can . .
.” What? Sleep on the floor? Mari didn’t have a guest bed.
Kat would be on the couch. After cutting her trip short from Hawaii, and especially with it being Christmas Eve, Mari couldn’t turn her sister away.
And with Kat in the house, Nima couldn’t warm Mari’s bed like she wanted him to.
At least not without Kat, and then all their friends and family, questioning Nima’s role in Mari’s life.
And she really didn’t want that to happen since she didn’t have the answers herself.
She didn’t regret having sex with Nima last night, but the friendship she hoped for didn’t include orgasms or sleeping together.
The smile Nima turned on Mari appeared gracious, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “I really appreciate the time we spent together, Mari. I won’t forget it.”
“Me too, but you say that like you’re heading out the door.” She frowned as his smile turned sad.
“I’ve already been in Wildwood longer than planned,” he said, his hand on his chest as if his heart might ache as much as hers.
Did he mean he’d be leaving town? So soon?
That possibility transformed her dull ache into an acute stabbing pain.
“I only have a few things to grab, then I’ll be out of your way. ”
“But, Nima . . .” He didn’t respond to Mari as he left the room, and she turned to jab Kat with the end of a crutch. “Be nice to him,” she hissed.
Her sister looked incredulous. “Be nice? Be nice? Mari, he left you and broke your fucking heart. You are not the same person you were before your big, failed trip to the Lower Forty-Eight with Nima.”
“No, I’m not. But neither is he. You don’t know what happened in Nevada. And I never said he left me.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to.” She lowered her phone again. “You lost a boyfriend, and I lost a big brother.”
Mari blinked, tears stinging the back of her eyes.
No wonder Kat was cold toward Nima. Not only was she angry on Mari’s behalf, but she felt betrayed, too. Ugh, what a mess. “There’s more to it—” Mari began before being interrupted by the smoke alarm blaring. “Shit, the pizza!” she yelled.
Mari rose from the bench and lurched for the oven, but Kat beat her to it, pulling out a blackened pie. With her crutches under her armpits, Mari waved papers under the detector, wincing at the twinge in her ribs as she attempted to clear the smoke and silence the shrieking alarm.
Nima came flying around the corner as the alarm stopped, freezing when he saw the heap of charcoal that had been pizza. “I forgot to set the timer.”
Kat turned off the oven and mumbled, “Some caregiver you are.”
Mari jabbed Kat with her crutch again. “Stop.”
She feigned an innocent shrug. “What, should I tell him ‘well done’ for burning your Christmas Eve dinner? Whatever this was, it’s good and dead now.”
Mari scowled. Kat knew it had been pizza. And shit, Nima’s favorite too. “We’ll get a white pie another time, Nima.”
“I look forward to it,” he said, though his tone made it sound like they’d share a pizza again when fireweed bloomed for Christmas—which meant never. Then he held out his hand as if expecting something from Mari.
When she stared at him blankly, he gestured to the envelope in her hand. “I believe that’s for me?”
Mari had been fanning the smoke with the water-stained, manilla envelope that contained their divorce papers.
She’d felt empowered when Helen had given her the documents.
But after spending nearly forty-eight hours with Nima and understanding how they’d become separated in Nevada, they now filled her with . . . sorrow.
Mari swallowed a rising lump in her throat. Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. She and Nima deserved a fresh start. “Right. Yes. Here you go.”
He tucked the envelope under his arm and grabbed his jacket from a hook by the door. “It’s been a genuine pleasure to spend the last two days with you, Mari.”
Had his voice cracked? It sounded like it. Mari’s damn eyes welled up, and she opened her mouth to respond, but confused emotion tied her tongue.
“Merry Christmas, ladies,” he said, then pushed out into the cold winter evening.
The right words still wouldn’t come. All she wanted to say was, “Don’t go.” But Nima was already gone.
Mari turned on her crutches, watching him walk away into the dark night. His boots crunched on the packed snow, and the colorful holiday lights around the house reflected off the hood of his truck.
Kat brushed a lock of Mari’s loose hair behind her ear. “Are you really okay, Mar? And I don’t just mean physically.”
Mari blew out a breath as tears continued to threaten. She couldn’t even force a smile. “I will be.” One day. Soon, hopefully.
Why did that feel like a lie?
“Please do me a favor and cut Nima some slack the next time you see him?” she asked, not able to disguise the weariness in her voice. “I’m going to lie down for a little while.”
Kat blinked at her. “Oh, okay. Call me if you need anything. We can watch some of those holiday romances you love and eat pizza when you wake up.”
As Mari hobbled to her bedroom on her crutches, she thought back to last night and the movie she and Nima had started.
Her lip trembled. I won’t get to finish movie night with Nima.
As she settled into bed, she wasn’t sure if she was truly tired or if she’d wanted to lie down because she craved Nima’s scent, which still clung to her blankets and pillows.
Either way, Mari cried herself to sleep.