Chapter Twenty-One ~ Nathan #2
“Wanna dance? I remember you loved this song when we were younger.”
One side of her mouth quirks. “Is there anything you don’t remember?”
The ability to make sane, sensible decisions, apparently. Without responding, I pull her into my arms, and we begin swaying to the music.
“Van seems like a sweetheart,” she says. “He said he was coming over to talk to Mila, but chickened out at the last second, and asked me to dance instead.”
“He’s a good guy,” I say. “Been through a lot. I’m guessing you gave him a pep talk, and that’s why he asked Mila to dance?”
“Sure did.” She grins up at me and then moves closer, sliding her arm further around me, and resting her head on my shoulder.
Everything about this moment seems strangely familiar: the smell of Fiona’s hair, the feel of her soft body against mine, the song that’s playing.
Shortly before Fiona and I became a couple, she and Liam dragged me to a school dance.
Liam knew a girl he liked would be there, so Fiona said we should all go.
The three of us spent most of the night on the gym bleachers, talking amongst ourselves, and eating overpriced snacks as our peers danced below.
Shortly after Liam worked up the courage to seek out his crush, “The Lady in Red” came on, and Fiona asked me to dance.
I wanted to say no, but I could never say no to her.
She was as beautiful and radiant then as she is now, and I’d just begun to realize I loved her.
And god help me, I still love her. I’m so fucked.
“How are you doing?” Fiona asks quietly in my ear.
“How do you mean?”
“Just…in general. Are you okay? You look kinda worn out tonight.”
“Busy day,” I tell her. “We’ve been working on this big project at the B&B, and today was a pretty heavy-duty construction day.
” I don’t add that I haven’t been getting enough sleep because of our late-night excursions.
I doubt I’d sleep well regardless, and for now, I’d rather spend that time with her since I can practically feel the clock ticking down.
“Did you know Dad stayed at the B&B when he first came to Honeywell?” Fiona asks, shifting so she can see my face.
“No, I had no idea.”
“I found an old journal of his from when he first came here,” she says. “He stayed there for a few months before he and Mum got a place together. Obviously, I knew he had a whole life before I came along, but it’s weird finding out new details like that and not being able to pick his brain.”
“Yeah, I get that.” I spent a lot of time feeling that way about my mom after she died. I had so many questions—mostly random, inconsequential things—and no one to answer them.
“So, are you…handling things okay?” Fiona asks. “The grief, I mean. I feel like I swing wildly between okay and decidedly not okay a million times a day. I can only imagine how you must feel since you saw Dad every single day, and you were with him when…”
“Ahh, yeah.” I swallow hard. “That swinging wildly thing sounds about right. I expect to see him every time I walk into your house. I don’t think a day has gone by yet when I haven’t picked up my phone to text or call him.
The other day, I almost bought those candied nuts he loved before I remembered he’s not here anymore. ”
Fiona nods, shifting closer and resting her head on my chest. “Those constant reminders are brutal. I expect that’s how it’ll be for a while. When you’ve known someone your entire life and spent so much time with them, it takes your brain and your heart time to catch up to them being gone.”
I hum in agreement. She’s right about the constant reminders being brutal.
It’s not the same, but when Fiona first left to travel, I thought I saw her everywhere I went, heard her phantom laughter at the most inopportune times, picked up the phone to call her more times than I cared to admit.
I felt like I was being haunted, which was a strange sensation because she was still here, she just wasn’t… here.
“And what about our pause? Are you still okay with that?” she asks.
I laugh under my breath and give her the same answer as I did on the night of my birthday: “No.”
“Nathan—” She starts to pull away from me, but I ease her back, tightening my hold.
I suddenly realize “The Lady in Red” has ended, and the dance music has resumed.
I don’t recognize the song, but it’s something bass-heavy that has couples dancing close and grinding against each other.
Liam, Joss, Mila, and Van are nowhere in sight.
Fiona doesn’t seem to notice, so even though we’re out of place among the gyrating couples, I continue to hold her close.
“It’s fine, really,” I say. It’s not. The more time we spend together, the harder it’s going to be to let her go.
We act like what we’re doing is just physical, but it’s so much more than that, and we both know it.
And yet I can’t stay away. I never thought of myself as a masochist before, but that’s clearly what I’ve become.
“Maybe we should…” Fiona trails off and releases a gusty sigh.
“Not yet,” I say. Something that feels an awful lot like desperation rises inside me, clawing at my throat. I am officially the stupidest man alive. Letting Fiona in and continuing whatever this is with her, is like giving her power over me. Power to hurt me, to break my heart. Again.
“Not yet,” I repeat. Stay in the moment, I tell myself. In this moment, Fiona is still here. “Will you come home with me tonight?”
For a second, I think she’s going to say no. It would probably be best if she did. But then her gaze drifts to my lips, and the way her eyes darken gives me my answer before she even speaks. “Yes.”