Chapter 28 #2
I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. Nash just held me, securely and tenderly.
Stroking my hair as I heard murmured snatches of words.
Was he… praying? For me? Somehow that made me cry harder.
But in this moment, I was content to break in the arms of a man who insisted he was the staying kind while he brought me to the feet of my Heavenly Father, who already loved me beyond measure.
“You wanna talk about it?” Nash asked when my tears lessened to muffled sniffles.
I felt like a wrung-out dish rag. Emotions were heavy things. Did I want to talk? Oddly… yes. To him. I swiped my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. “It’s not pretty.”
“Heartbreak never is.”
I tried to breathe through my nose, but my clogged sinuses were having none of it. Gross. “Bet you didn’t expect to spend Christmas like this?”
“With a beautiful, clever woman in my arms?”
“Who just used you as a human tissue.”
Nash brushed his thumb gently over my cheek, wiping away the last rogue tear.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” His gaze skittered over my features, taking me in—red nose, puffy eyes, and makeup-less.
Like I was the most enchanting thing he’d ever seen.
I felt the warmth and steadiness behind the look all the way down to my toes, and part of me wanted to cry again, so I opened my mouth and let the story fall out of me instead.
“My mom, Hilary, was wife number six. When I was five, my parents divorced, and she left. Moved to Paris, restarted her life, and never thought about me again.” I sniffed hard.
This wasn’t the first time I’d told my life story.
The girls had gotten it out of me during our dorm-room days.
But standing here in Nash’s arms on Christmas morning in pajamas, messy hair, and no makeup scraped me raw with vulnerability.
What if my mess scares him away? This was new territory for us, but something in me craved to let him in. I was tired of being alone.
“I found out as a preteen that she remarried and had three more kids.”
“She never reached out to you?” Nash’s arms tightened a fraction.
“Nope. I tried connecting with her my freshman year of college.” A fresh wave of tears stung my eyes.
“I thought maybe she’d want to know me. But she told me she’d moved on and wanted nothing to do with that, and I quote, ‘unfortunate chapter of my life.’ Then there’s Hiram.
” I let out a bitter laugh. “He’s never been a stable presence.
He handed me off to his parents and lived his life, occasionally popping in and out of my life between women.
He was never around for everyday things like school plays, but Christmas and birthday presents—when he actually remembered—were always extravagant.
I waffled between being appeased by the items and hating his absence.
“Papa died when I was thirteen, and that’s when I was shipped off to Gabe and Ivy’s for the first time.
Nana was struggling to cope and needed hip surgery around the same time.
She was grieving and scared and didn’t want to put that weight on my shoulders.
” My throat caught. “I’d have given anything to have stayed with her.
Anything to keep my life from upending again.
But…” I glanced out the nearby window where the morning sun bathed the pure white snow, dazzling with a million diamonds.
“Once I got older, I realized she was trying to protect me while she was falling apart. I knew it was from a place of love, but I felt… passed around and inconvenient.”
Nash hummed quietly, gently rubbing a hand up and down my spine. He didn’t push me to go on with the story, but now that I’d started talking, it poured off my lips like a waterfall.
“Military life was unstable and unpredictable. Because Gabe and I are twelve years apart, there’s a weird, not-quite-father-but-not-quite-sibling relationship between us.
Gabe was deployed for the first part of my stay—he was based in Arizona at the time—and Ivy was a saint for putting up with me.
Though she says it was the other way around. ” I paused, remembering.
The truth was Gabe and Ivy struggled with infertility and had just gotten devastating news before I arrived in Arizona.
So there we were. Ivy, the woman who desperately wanted to be a mother, and me, the budding teenager unwanted by either of her parents and heartbroken about losing her grandpa.
I’d always loved Ivy since she’d been a part of my life practically forever, but those three months before Gabe came home from Afghanistan bound us in a way nothing else could have.
Years later, Ivy had apologized for leaning on me too heavily at a young age, but I never saw it like that.
Maybe it was because for the first time, someone needed me.
I wasn’t just the youngest sister who needed protecting.
But that part of the story wasn’t mine to tell, even though Gabe and Ivy’s choice to adopt was no secret.
“How long did you live with them?” Nash’s low voice brought me back to the small nook where his arms still looped around my lower back, holding me securely.
“Eight months the first time. Then depending on where they were stationed, I spent summers with them until I went to college, especially after they adopted the boys. They’re bio brothers. The girls came a few years later.”
“Did Hiram ever make an effort after that?”
My shoulder twitched in a half-shrug. “He offered to pay for my tuition, like he did for all of us, but I turned him down. Honestly, he still thinks of me as a child who can be pacified with toys and luxury. But I can’t be bought, and he hates that. Yet he still tries.”
“Like the dress?”
“Yeah. It’s an image thing. How he wants me to look. Act.” I groaned just thinking about the monstrosity and hid my face against his chest.
“I’m sure working for me didn’t help.”
I snort-laughed, and it was real. “I saw your job listing by accident, and I’ve never been so conflicted. I was terrified that all you would see was my dad when I walked in.”
“It took guts to tell me who you really were. I admired that.”
My palms were a bit sweaty as I remembered our first meeting, when I’d waltzed into his office with more bravado than I felt.
I’d been immediately struck with Nash’s attractiveness, but I was already a fan of his business ethics.
The decision to apply wasn’t some misplaced rebellion or a chance to “stick it” to my father, but I wasn’t cut out for the rat race of the family business and wanted to be valued for my skills, not just because of my last name.
“Was that all you admired?” Excuse me, what? Who was this flirty woman? Thy name was not Stephanie.
Heat flashed in Nash’s dark-chocolate eyes before he leaned forward until his lips brushed the shell of my ear, his voice low and raspy. “I think you know the answer to that.”
I shivered and gave him a playful shove, returning us to lighter footing after my emotional breakdown. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
Nash smirked, but the seriousness didn’t leave his eyes.
Lightness eased through my limbs, and I stifled a yawn. Who knew emotions were so exhausting? When I couldn’t resist the next yawn, I let my head drop back against his chest. He rested his chin on my head, and we stood there in silence for several moments.
“Thank you,” Nash said at last.
My head popped up like a jackrabbit. “For what? We already established the human tissue.”
He ignored my jab of humour. “For trusting me, Steph. For letting me in.”
“Oh.” It felt like an odd thing for him to be thankful for.
Shouldn’t I be the thankful one—and I was—for him holding me together while I fell apart and letting me snot all over his shirt?
Thanking him for not running for the hills?
Yet hadn’t I appreciated it when he opened up to me last night? Sharing the load?
He must have thought I needed extra convincing because he crooked a finger under my chin and gently tilted it up.
“I’m no stranger to heartbreak, and I know taking that first step to let somebody see the mess, the fractures, and the broken parts of you is the hardest part.
Thank you for trusting me with that. It’s an honour to share pain, not a burden.
And it’s okay to grieve a relationship that didn’t turn out the way it was meant to. ”
Why was his face going blurry? Oh, I was crying again.
Relationships required communication to work, even when it was uncomfortable.
When all your broken pieces and ugly edges were held up to the light by another soul.
But there was a beauty to being known. Being truly seen.
Scrubbing my sleeve over my eyes, I whispered, “Thank you for staying.”
“Always.”
And somehow, I believed him.