Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
MACKENZIE
Who knew tomato-based dishes would forever ruin me?
I hate this. I’ll be doing fine—or at least numb, which is the only emotion I’ll allow myself to feel—when suddenly, bam. A single can of crushed tomatoes sends my world spinning.
I’ve been through so much. Losing my husband. Liam’s accident. My brother stealing from me. But nothing compares to the hollow ache Nate left behind.
But is it the betrayal that hurts? Or his absence?
I swallow the lump in my throat, staring numbly at the can. I miss him. The way his serious expression would crack with that barely-there smile. The way he always put the kids and me first. The unapologetic way he dominates in bed.
I miss everything.
More than anything, though, I miss the conversations that grew from a single can of crushed tomatoes. That’s how it started. We bonded over food, over Italian dishes, and late-night talks. It was in those moments I got to peek into his guarded soul.
Jill’s right. His side of the story deserves telling. I owe him that much. My pride has kept me locked in my own stubbornness, but what am I even protecting anymore? He’s just a few blocks away. I can fix this. We can fix this.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I abandon the cart and march straight out of the store.
I’m twenty yards from my car when the rapid clicking of heels pounds against the pavement behind me. Then I hear my name.
“Mackenzie, I heard the news. How are you doing?”
Linda. Of course.
Her concern drips with manufactured sympathy, and I barely bite back a groan as I spin to face her. There’s no escaping this conversation, is there?
Linda’s face tightens when she takes me in, her eyes sweeping over me with the same judgmental glint she’s worn since high school. “Oh, honey. You don’t look so well. Suppose I wouldn’t either if that fine specimen of a man left town.”
My jaw drops from her brazenness. “What?”
At first, I think she means Jordan. Maybe she’s being snide about the money he stole. But she wouldn’t call a thief a fine specimen.
Would she?
I go to answer her original question but close my mouth. Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “Who are you talking about? What man?”
Linda gasps, her eyes widening like she’s just struck gossip gold. I watch as she collects herself, probably savoring the fact she gets to be the one to break the news.
“Oh, honey, you don’t know?” She places a hand on my forearm and lowers her voice. “Nate skipped town last night.”
The world tips sideways.
“He left?” I rasp. “After our argument?”
Linda nods sympathetically. “Mmm-hmm. Packed up and drove off. Guess there’s no chance of rekindling that relationship now, huh?”
Her words are a blade, twisting deep. Did I drive him away?
I shake my head, refusing to let her see my unraveling. “We, uh, broke up a few nights ago.”
My lips flatten into a thin, emotionless line even as something fractures inside me. I step backward, inching toward my car, desperate to escape her grip and the suffocating weight of this moment.
Linda’s expression morphs into mock sympathy. “Shame. He was mighty fine. All the girls wanted to line up and have surgery if you know what I mean.”
I don’t. And I don’t want to.
If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to lose it.
“I have to pick up my boys,” I say, voice tight. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Oh, okay. If you need anything, let me know. I’m just a phone call away.”
I bet you are.
I nod, force a smile, and bolt to my car.
But I need to see for myself.
By the time I pull into The Cabins, my hands are shaking. He wouldn’t leave.
Not like this.
My feet pound against the pavement as I race to room seven. Our room. Please be here. Please.
But I freeze at the sight in front of me.
The door is wide open. The bed stripped.
Mrs. Overly stands inside, vacuuming.
I step backward, my pulse a deafening roar in my ears. No. No. No.
He’s gone.
He’s actually gone.
My entire world slips out from under me. And for the first time since I lost Ethan, I truly feel alone.