Chapter 31
Nathan
It’s the next morning, I’m up at the crack of dawn, and I’ve checked my phone more than I’d like to admit. I can’t sit still, so I head to the storage unit with the keys Maddison sent me.
Before I know it, I’m back home, and the door clicks shut behind me, echoing through the penthouse.
Two cardboard boxes dig into my forearms, and the set of keys in my other hand jingles in mockery.
I drop everything onto the kitchen table, boxes first, then the keys. They skid across the surface, catching the light. The same keys Maddison sent me in that letter.
A storage unit.
Full of memories that were “Too hard for her to keep.”
Too hard for her.
But for me? They’re memories I’ll never forget.
I exhale, the sound rough in the still air. My head throbs, the kind of dull hangover that doesn’t feel entirely earned. Maybe last night wasn’t my smartest idea. Whiskey and nostalgia rarely play nice.
The first flap of the box rips open with a soft tear of tape. Dust puffs up, catching the morning light.
Inside were pieces of a life I used to live.
My old college jersey, my number faded from a hundred washes. A trophy I barely remember winning. A bundle of letters wrapped in a ribbon so worn, it’s almost gray.
Then my hand hits something cold and solid at the bottom of the box.
A camera.
An old silver digital one…Canon, scratched to hell, but still intact.
I turn it over in my hand. The weight of it is heavier than I remember.
This thing used to go everywhere with us. Trips, games, birthdays, nights in cheap hotels when we were too broke to care.
I thumb the power button. The screen flickers once. Then again. And somehow, it still turns on.
“Guess you’ve got more life left than I thought,” I murmur.
The gallery icon blinks in the corner. I press it.
A list of files fills the tiny screen, dozens of clips, all labeled by date.
And when I scroll to the top, there it is:
001.MOV
I hover my thumb over the play button.
For a split second, I just stand there, staring at the reflection of my face in the black screen. The man I’ve become, looking back at the kid who thought love could survive anything.
Then I press play.
The image shakes, blurry at first, but the sound comes through clear.
Each clip rolls into the next, faster, more vivid, moments collapsing in on themselves, swallowing the present whole.
My breath catches.
Time folds.
And I’m no longer standing in my kitchen.
I’m back there, living it.
001.MOV Fall – University of Seattle
4:47 PM – Rehab Room 2B
Maddison sits cross-legged on the padded floor, filming me, hair tied back, holding out a protein bar like it's a prize at the end of some cruel, torturous game.
"Just ten more reps," she says, voice calm, smile ruthless. "Or I start singing show tunes."
I groan, sweat dripping down my spine. "Cruel woman."
"Correct," she chirps. "Now lift."
My knee is on fire. My pride in ashes. I used to be a god on the field: fast, agile, dangerous. Now I can barely flex a resistance band without grunting like I’m eighty.
She counts each rep out loud, slow and steady, like she's trying to give me back my rhythm one number at a time.
By the end, I collapse into her lap, cheek resting against her thigh. Her fingers rake gently through my hair.
“You’re still you,” she whispers.
I don’t believe her.
Not yet.
002.MOV Spring – Senior Year
2:12 AM – Crappy College Apartment
Boxes are stacked to the ceiling. The floor is half carpet, half chaos. Maddison is curled up beside me on the couch. I’m filming her eating cereal out of a mixing bowl with a spatula.
“This is adulthood,” she declares.
I grin. “Is it everything you dreamed of?”
She leans into me, eyes sparkling. “Better. You’re in it.”
I press a kiss to her forehead. “We need a real spoon.”
“Agreed,” she mumbles, mouth full of Lucky Charms. “Put it on the registry.”
003.MOV Summer – Graduation Day
12:33 PM – Bleachers, University Stadium
The sun’s hot. My cap is crooked. Her lipstick’s smudged from kissing me behind the library after the ceremony.
She’s waving her diploma in one hand and her phone in the other, already texting everyone the news. I watch her like she’s sunlight in motion.
She glances over. “Why are you staring?”
“Because I know exactly how lucky I am,” I say.
She rolls her eyes, but her cheeks flush. “Good answer.”
004.MOV Winter – Christmas Eve
6:19 PM – Our First Apartment
I’m on one knee in front of a fake tree that’s leaning slightly to the left. The ring is in my trembling hand. Maddison’s barefoot in the kitchen, holding a tray of burned cookies.
She doesn’t say anything, just drops the tray and starts crying.
“Yes?” I ask, already choking.
“Yes,” she says, falling to her knees with me. “A thousand times, yes.”
We kiss between shards of gingerbread and mismatched wrapping paper.
005.MOV Spring – Surprise
7:02 AM – Bathroom
She’s sitting on the edge of the tub, filming a pregnancy test like it’s a live grenade.
I’m still half-asleep, blinking when two pink lines appear like it’s a glitch.
Maddison laughs, one sharp, disbelieving sound, then covers her mouth.
I kneel in front of her. My heart is jackhammering. “We’re having a baby?”
She nods. “We’re having a baby.”
I kiss her knees, her stomach, her cheeks. My girl. My home. My whole damn universe.
006.MOV Summer – Wedding Day
5:33 PM – Back Garden of a Vineyard Outside Seattle
Maddison is walking toward me in a lace dress that looks like it was stitched from clouds and holy things.
I blink. Then blink again. I can’t breathe.
She reaches me and whispers, “Don’t cry.”
I’m already crying.
She takes my hand. “You’re the boy who made me believe in forever.”
And now she’s the woman who made it real.
007.MOV Winter – Delivery Room
2:17 AM – St. Mary’s Medical Center
As I film, she screams. The kind of scream that rips bone from skin. I’ve never felt so helpless.
Then, a cry, soft, sharp, world-altering.
The nurse says, “It’s a girl!”
I look at Maddison, sweat-matted and glowing, tears streaming down her face.
The tiny bundle in her arms wiggles.
I forget every touchdown, every stadium roar, every past version of myself. Now… now my life is fulfilled, complete.
“Ivy,” Maddison whispers. “Her name’s Ivy.”
I nod, my voice trapped in my throat. Then it comes out, hoarse and choked with emotion. “Hi, baby girl.”
She wraps her fingers around my pinky like it’s all she’ll ever need.
I silently promise she’ll never have to let go.
The sound of my phone ringing jerks my attention away from the digital camera.
The sound cuts through the haze, sharp and real. I blink, lowering the camera. The phone is sitting on the counter—black screen reflecting the name glowing up at me.
Taylor Pierce.
Hope surges so fast it hurts.
My hands are shaking when I pick it up.
“Taylor,” I say, voice already unsteady. “Did we get a plate…a hit on the vehicle?”
A long pause, then he says quietly, “No, Nathan. I’m sorry. The police say no hits on the vehicle.”
“What about other footage, camera angles…witnesses?”
“Sorry, Nathan,” he whispers.
Everything inside me stops. The air, the heartbeat, the light in the room. Gone.
No plate. No clean angle. No usable face. No match. Nothing.
I sit there with my phone in my hand long after the screen goes dark. Something hot and sharp crawls up the back of my throat.
Fine. If they can’t find anything else, I will. I don’t think. I don’t plan. I just grab my keys.
The drive blurs. Red lights. Turns. Highway sign reads Redmond 45 Miles. My foot is heavier than it should be on the gas, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. By the time the Walmart sign comes into view, the sky is still pale and thin with early morning.
The lot is mostly empty. The store isn’t even open yet. I park anyway. Right where I think the camera must’ve been. And I wait. At first, I tell myself I’m just going to sit for a few minutes. Just to see the place. Just to get it out of my system.
Minutes turn into an hour. Then two. The sun climbs. The lot fills. Employees arrive. Delivery trucks. Early shoppers.
I don’t move. I study every car like it owes me something. Every sedan in that color range. Every SUV with the right shape. Every vehicle that looks even vaguely close to what I remember from the footage. My chest stays tight the entire time, like I’m holding my breath without realizing it.
Then, a knock on my window from a security guard.
I flinch.
The kid looks about nineteen. Maybe twenty. Too young to be this bored. “You okay, sir?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. Just… waiting for someone.”
He looks at me for a little longer than necessary, then shrugs. “Alright. Let me know if you need anything.”
He walks off.
I keep waiting. I finally spot a car that makes my heart jump into my throat. Same general shape. Same general color. Close enough that my brain locks onto it and refuses to let go. I sit up straighter. I watch it. I don’t blink. I don’t look away.
Eventually, a woman comes out of the store and gets into the car. She pulls out of the lot.
I follow. I tell myself I’m just confirming. Just checking. Just being sure. The drive is quiet. Suburban. Normal. She pulls into a driveway. I stop across the street. She gets out of the car. Walks toward the house. The front door opens.
A little boy runs out and wraps himself around her legs. She laughs, bends down, and hugs him. Another kid appears behind him. Then a man steps into the doorway. He looks at her. Then he looks at me.
His face changes. He takes a step down the driveway and cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey! Can I help you?”
The words hit like a slap.
And suddenly I can see myself. A stranger. Parked across the street. Watching.
My stomach turns. What the hell am I doing? Following people home. Projecting my nightmare onto their lives. This is too far.
I start the car and drive away before he can say anything else.
My hands are shaking on the wheel. I don’t feel relieved. I don’t feel angry.
I’m hollow and exposed.
I drive without thinking until the city reshapes itself into familiar streets.
Until I’m sitting outside a building I thought I was done with.