16|Questions
I sighed as I sat on the toilet watching my blood stained panties.
That explains the uncharacteristic crying and heightened emotions from today.
I shook my head before quickly changing and stepping outside to see Nate pacing back and forth.
He was finishing up a work call and I felt lucky that he even allowed me to hear it.
"Unfortunately senator, you'll have to wait in line like everyone else," he angrily said. "If you want top priority, go private."
With that, he hung up.
He sighed as he walked over to the bed, pulling off his shirt in the process.
"You should really start accepting their offers," I advised him.
"I can't be bought, Naomi," he sighed as he went on his back. "You know that."
"I do," I agreed, getting into the bed. "I also know that you're a talented lawyer who could make a lot of money if you-"
I immediately kept quiet when he glared at me. "Or not."
My eyes lustfully lingered to his chest. "Since when did you become so...shredded."
"I go to the gym in the mornings," he explained as he went on his phone. "Before you wake up."
"I needed to take my mind off things and that worked."
I nodded as my eyes lingered on my husband's physique a little too long.
Suddenly, I spotted a new tattoo.
Eden.
I quickly looked away, as I felt sadness...guilt.
It was the right thing to do.
Vivianne needed me.
What about Eden? Didn't she need you?
I felt like I just received a punch to the gut.
"No more questions?" He asked beside me, completely oblivious to my internal conflict. "Thought you'd be flooding me with them."
When I didn't reply, he looked up from his phone. "Naomi?"
Every fibre in my body begged for me to just take my anger out on him and lash out.
I should just yell at him and start another fight.
We were the best lawyers in NYC for a reason.
However, I remembered that Nate, the most stubborn man I've ever met in my entire life, was trying to make us work.
I should too.
"Did you drink last night?" I changed the conversation.
When he didn't answer, I began to think the worst.
"I didn't," he finally admitted, and I felt so relieved. "But I was at a bar."
My eyes widened a little before I quickly put them back into their usual position.
"And I wanted to," he admitted. "Even if it was just a sip."
"But you didn't," I smiled, feeling so proud of him.
"But I didn't," he smiled a little too.
...
I stood outside his apartment worried.
He didn't get the internship he wanted and hadn't answered my calls in two days.
Nate wasn't the type to just disappear, especially without warning.
I knocked harder this time. "Nate?"
Still nothing.
Without a second thought, I grabbed the handle and unlocked the door.
The lights were off, but the TV flickered against the far wall, casting a glow over the mess I wasn't expecting.
Bottles.
Pills.
Everywhere.
I was beginning to wonder if I was at the right place.
The strict, always put together Nate would never.
Then I saw him.
Slumped over the couch, shirt wrinkled for the first time ever, eyes barely open, and a bottle in his hand.
"Nate?" I whispered, not fully believing what I was seeing.
He blinked slowly at me as if he were in some sort of dream.
"G-gooo away," he slurred.
"What happened?" I asked as I stepped closer. "Why...why didn't you call me?"
He gave a bitter, humourless laugh. "I didn't want you to see me like this."
"Like what?" I played dumb, but he didn't answer.
I shook my head.
"Come on," I told him as I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. "Let's get you cleaned up."
He shook his head, anchoring himself to the couch so that I couldn't lift him.
"Just go," he said, closing his eyes. "Before things get too serious with us. I don't want you dealing with my mess."
"Too late," I told him. "We're already too serious and I don't think I'll ever get over you."
He slowly opened his eyes and for the first time ever, I saw his tears fall.
...
"It's been six years now, hasn't it?" I asked and he nodded.
After that day in the apartment, he never drank again.
My eyes lingered to his lips, remembering how we would do each year to celebrate.
Nate was good with his lips and hands and other parts of his body too.
I don't know how he does it, but he makes you never want the moment to stop.
I shook my head, knowing we were going to take ages to get there.
"I called my parents," I admitted and he glanced at me.
"Was everything okay?"
You better not divorce him. We don't want to make enemy with his father right now.
I forced a smile and nodded. "They just wanted to see if I was okay."
He stayed quiet for a moment.
"You sure?" He asked again, this time softer.
I nodded quickly. "Yeah, it's fine. They just haven't seen me since the funeral."
He sighed. "I'm really sorry I brought them into our argument."
I quickly shook my head. "It's fi-"
"No, it's not fine," he argued. "And it wasn't true either. Your parents love you to death."
I kept my mouth shut, begging to differ.
"You don't believe me," he noticed after a moment.
I swallowed hard as I began to lay down. "Let's not talk about it."
He turned his head towards me, but I refused to meet his eyes.
"Nae."
"I'm tired," I whispered, pulling the covers up to my chin. "Can we just sleep? I have work tomorrow."
He didn't say anything else, but I felt the mattress shift slightly as he rolled onto his back again.
I closed my eyes, instantly regretting that I pushed him away.
"Nate," I started. "Can you do that thing?"
I hated begging for things, especially my infuriating husband.
But for the past couple of months, when I slept in here alone, I craved him so desperately.
Without a word, he shifted.
I soon felt the warmth of him pressed against me, his arm sliding over my waist with a gentleness that cracked something deep inside me.
Whenever he did this, I always felt that he was healing the younger version of me.
The girl who didn't get warm hugs or cuddles growing up.
The girl who didn't get nice compliments.
His chin found that familiar place near the curve of my shoulder, and I exhaled like I'd been holding my breath for months.
Honestly, I have been.
I closed my eyes and intertwined my hands with his.
God, I've missed him.
I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't.
I was too stubborn.
His ego would get too hard.
I already feel embarrassed for asking him for this.
There's only so much I could take.