Chapter 24
The Push
Nate
The crew warned me we’d get random sunny days in the winter. “Snowbreaks” they call them. It’s deceitful, though, the light looks warm, almost springlike, but the air slices straight through my jacket as I stand on the build site watching the crane swing a bundle of LVLs over my head.
“Watch your footing,” I call out. The ground is hard but not frozen, just dry enough that no one’s skidding around. We’ll get snow again by the end of the week, no doubt, but today, we have to push to meet the deadline.
One of the guys climbs the scaffolding and shoots me a taunting smirk because I’m just the guy with the pencils who isn’t used to walking around the site, so what do I know?
He isn’t wrong, but he also doesn’t hear what I do when the planks creak—the math stretching the margin of safety.
I know how many pounds that joint is rated for, how much lateral sway the frame can take before the entire load path shifts and collapses.
This whole phase of construction is a balance between precision and chaos.
Failing to secure the right beam and the whole structure will shift.
Fitting, really. I can keep a building standing, but I didn’t recognize the hairline fractures in my relationship until the entire thing caved under my own weight.
I walk the perimeter and duck into what will be the kitchen. This is why I do what I do: this moment when nothingness becomes something. The outline of a life starts here: breakfasts, birthdays, morning arguments, evening apologies. Families I’ll never see. Futures I’ll never have.
Futures I used to imagine with her.
I try to shake it, but once Robyn’s in my head, she stays. Let’s be real, she’s never really out.
When lunch break hits, I head toward my car, boots grinding over gravel, my shoulders pleasantly sore in a way they never are when I’m just drafting. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I start the engine. My phone connects to Bluetooth, and Julian’s name pops up on the screen.
He answers on the third ring. “What’s up?”
“Is Milo settled?”
A soft affirmative hum, then a door closing behind him.
I let my head fall back against the seat. “I think I fucked up again.”
“New personal best. What happened?”
“I let jealousy get to me. Went a little … caveman, I think.”
“You ‘think’?”
“Fine. I know.” I shift into reverse. “You could’ve told me she was seeing someone.”
“I told you I’m not updating you on Robyn. Or updating her on you.” He sighs. “But between you and me? She’s not seeing him. Friends with bad benefits, if you know what I mean.”
My grip tightens on the gearshift. “That’s not like Robyn.”
“No,” he murmurs. “I’m worried about her.
And a little pissed. She hasn’t met my two-month-old kid, Nate.
And—I can’t reach her from here. She got into these headspaces during med school too, lets routine do its thing and kinda shuts down.
Talking to her is getting me nowhere. There’s nothing else I can do. ”
The road blurs beyond the windshield. Robyn not making time to meet Julian’s son? That’s not her. That’s … that’s the version of her I made, forcing her to spend all her energy into surviving the collapse I caused.
A hollow pang digs under my ribs—the empty hole that’s Robyn’s rightful place in my heart has only gotten bigger in the months we’ve been apart. If Julian can’t reach her, what chance do I have? But the thought of her spiraling and pushing everyone away makes something primal in my chest clench.
The bile gathering in my mouth tastes of guilt and regret. I swallow hard. “This isn’t on you, Julian. It’s on me.”
“True.”
Count on Julian Keller to tell it to you like it is, no softening the blow.
“How’s Milo?”
His voice brightens. “Crushed his two-month checkup. Giant head. Eightieth percentile.”
“And Quinn?”
“Still a pain in my ass.”
“Well, you did get jealous and act like a dick.”
“Learned from the best,” he fires back. “And I wasn’t jealous. I just didn’t want another man’s dick near my baby’s head.”
I snort. “That’s why you volunteered for labor-inducing sex?”
“Obviously. I’m a doctor, I know it helps.”
“Denial. I recognize it. Lived in it.” There’s a pause—softer, honest. “For what it’s worth, you’ve … helped me. Especially with Tessa.” Her name tastes of rust. My grip on the steering wheel tightens—too tight—old anger rising like it’s been waiting under my ribs for an excuse.
“It’s fucking crazy that you figured out how to get her fired,” Julian says. “Should teach her not to mess with someone’s job.” The speakers crackle, his tone impressed.
“Well—” I exhale, shifting into park. “From her boss’s standpoint, she got herself fired.
You can’t work in marketing and start online smear campaigns.
Publicly attacking a physician while they market hospitals.
Her boss saw the legal liability from a mile away and fired her as soon as I shared the screenshot. ”
“What a dumbass.”
I shrug. “I guess that’s Tessa for you. I just wanted her to get a taste of her own medicine. She could have really fucked things up for Robyn.”
“Dude, one hundred percent. What Andrzej commented on her profile was a bit—” He clears his throat. “Unhinged.”
I nod. “What gave him away? He was very satisfied with ‘Hinge only works if your personality isn’t as dry as your pussy’.”
Julian snorts so loudly it distorts the audio. “For me, it was that GIF he posted. A tumbleweed with her name on it.”
The corner of my mouth lifts despite myself. For a second, the tightness between my ribs loosens. Then it returns because it doesn’t make my own shortcomings more tolerable.
“I don’t want her ever thinking of fucking with Robyn again, dude.” I rub a hand over my jaw, feeling the scrape of stubble. Just remembering it has my pulse ticking faster—not pride, not exactly. More like the afterburn of fury that hasn’t fully cooled yet.
“Robyn can handle herself against Tessa. That social media stuff was good for comeuppance. Everything else you’ve done—”
I don’t need Julian to sing my praises over staying in Chicago rather than chasing after Robyn. “Maybe,” I say, with the heel of my palm pressing into my chest. “Still, it was too little, too late.”
When Tessa’s boss responded to my screenshot with a simple “Done.” Andrzej insisted we celebrate at the dive bar where everything started.
When Julian arrived later, looking worse than the last time I’d seen him, Andrzej fed him his “my people believe vodka’ll make everything better,” and Julian, clearly smarter than me, shook his head and ordered Scotch.
Vodka was out of the question for me, so I took a shot of the same thing Julian had.
“What’s gotten into you? Someone kill your puppy?” Andrzej asked.
“Something like that.” Julian downed his second shot. “Someone killed my fucking single life.”
I frowned. “You getting hitched or something?” Then I drank my shot. If fuckboy of the year got married before I did, I was even more of a disaster than I thought.
“Something,” he said, gesturing to the server for a third shot and a beer. “I’m having a baby. And she already hates my fucking guts.”
Andrzej smacked the counter and laughed. “Your unborn baby hates you?” He scoffed. “That’s hilarious.”
Julian rolled his eyes. “No, dumbass. The mom hates me.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Well, at some point she must have not. Unless it was a hate-fuck. Hate-fucking’s the best.”
“Yeah, probably ’cause it’s all you know.” Julian exhaled and downed half his beer. “Nate …” Julian turned to face me, cutting Andrzej out of the conversation, his blue eyes swirling with annoyance. “You need to shut him up, or I’m going to punch him.”
Andrzej lifted his hands, palms outward.
“Nate!”
We all turned to the entrance of the bar to find Tessa standing with her legs squared with her hips and an unmistakable box of her belongings.
“Sweet,” Andrzej said behind me. “Show time.”
Tessa came to where the three of us stood.
“Tessa,” Andrzej exclaimed, “I thought we’d cleared up that stalking is bad.”
“Oh, get over yourself,” she said, putting the box on the floor. “You and Nate are always here on Fridays like some sad old couple with nothing else to do.”
“Careful, Tess,” he adds, “I don’t do well with bitches stealing my man, I’m down for a catfight. Are you?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Julian downed his third shot and dropped a twenty. “I don’t have it in me for this shit.”
I clapped my hand on his shoulder, then addressed Tessa. “You have to go. I made myself clear, I’m done being around you.”
“Ugh.” Tessa tapped her foot on the floor and cocked her hip. “I took the videos down, alright? Can we be done fighting now?”
I didn’t raise my voice. “You took those down because you were getting shit for being a judgmental bitch. Not because you cared about being my friend.”
“You’re still on that, Nate?” She scoffed, then looked at Julian before her green eyes landed back on me. “I think all’s well that ends well, and you’re certainly well without Robyn.”
“Tessa,” I said, slow and level, “this guy is Robyn’s best friend. He respected her relationship. You never did.” I held her gaze, unblinking. “I didn’t see it then. I see it now.”
Silence stretched between us.
“You wouldn’t have kissed me back if you didn’t feel anything,” Tessa threw back at me with disdain.
I shrugged. “I felt many things, sure. None of them really had to do with you. Not that I owe you an explanation.” I pointed at the door. “If you don’t leave, we will.”
“Nate …” She whimpered and batted her eyelashes at me. “I had a really hard day today, I really need you.”
I scoffed. “I bet. I bet you’re saying that to see if I fold.” I swallowed, the confirmation in her blush making me feel even more stupid. “I also warned you, Tessa, to take the videos down, and you didn’t. So go cry to someone else.”