Chapter 28 #3
The sight of Robyn makes my chest ache. She’s in a tank top and paisley shorts, lace hugging the thickest part of her thighs. She looks healthier than she did when we broke up—softer, fuller.
I shake my head, more to steady myself than anything. “Can I come in?”
She steps aside. “It’s your room.”
Her words are a punch to my ribcage. In a different lifetime, she’d said our room. I sit on the toy box at the end of the bed, the lid creaking under my weight. This room smells of dreams to chase after, dust, and—somehow—Robyn. Or maybe that’s just my brain filling in the blanks.
“I—” I clear my throat. “I’d like to offer you answers. If there are questions you have.”
She crosses her arms, leaning back against the dresser. “Isn’t it too little too late, Nate?”
“Yes.” I nod once, owning it. Shame tightens my throat. “It took me an embarrassingly long time to understand what happened.” I swallow. “I even reached out to my father.”
Her mouth tightens. “You can’t blame a man you haven’t seen since you were nine for decisions you made when you were over thirty.”
“True.”
She studies me for a long second. “How bad did it get? Between you and her?”
The carpet’s soft beneath my bare feet, and I shift my left one, grounding myself in the sensation. “It got really bad, Robyn. I’m not going to lie.” I force myself to meet her gaze. “I cheated on us. On you.”
Her gaze drops, and her fingers find the lace at the hem of her shorts, worrying it back and forth. She sits on the farthest end of the bed.
I want to cross the room and hold her, but I don’t move.
“So you had sex while we were together.”
“No. Fuck—no.” I inhale sharply. “None of that. I started noticing her in ways I never had before.” I drag my hand through my hair and grip the strands until it hurts. “I lingered in hugs, and I stared when and where I shouldn’t.”
“And what else?”
“And I imagined being with someone who’d depend on me.
Someone with a career I didn’t have to compete with.
Who’d wait for me to solve even the easy problems.” My voice drops.
“The more Tessa asked, the more that hypothetical took the shape of her. Until I didn’t stop her from crossing boundaries and kissed her back. ” I let out a bitter huff of air.
“More than once?”
I shake my head. “Just that once. I thought I was watching a movie with friends, but I’m pretty sure I ended up on a date with her.”
“And?”
“And I thought about kissing her then,” I admit.
Robyn’s breath catches, her shoulders slumping.
“But I didn’t,” I rush the words out. “Then tried to pull back, push her back into the friend zone she belonged in.” My jaw tightens. “But she posted the video. And I behaved like an even bigger idiot.”
Robyn shakes her head. She looks like the rug’s been pulled from under her feet all over again. “I should have told you. How much I was freaking out about the pressure to find an attending job back in Chicago.”
I nod. “Yeah, I think we’ve established that location wasn’t a deal breaker.”
“I just—” Her gaze lowers to the floor and doesn’t lift back up. “You know my dad never approved of me going into medicine. It’s this big betrayal in his eyes because doctors didn’t see we were losing Mom, and now I’m one of them.”
I stretch my arm out to hold her, but catch myself before she notices.
“Anyway, I’m terrified I’m not even a good one. That no matter how much I try, I’m still not good enough—I wasn’t good enough for you.”
It’s a punch to the stomach. My actions nurtured her self-doubt not just into existence, but into a whole sprouting tree.
“You were more than enough,” I state. “You were—are—everything.” My chest burns.
“But I was terrified I wouldn’t be for you.
” I hesitate, then push through. “I felt neglected. Second to your career.” I look down at my hands.
“And my own father … well, all I could think of was that when you’re not needed, you’re … left behind.”
She sighs.
“Every weekend you kept on working, determined like you didn’t even miss me … was confirmation that you’d leave me. Until I fucked it up so thoroughly I made it true.”
“Nate, I didn’t—”
“I know.” I lift my head. “You loved me. You chose me. And I couldn’t understand how that was better.”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” she whispers, lifting her gaze to mine, unblinking. “I—I messed up too.”
“You’re not to blame for what I did.”
“No,” she agrees. “But I saw that you were pulling away, and I didn’t do anything to show you that I saw you. That I loved everything you did for me. That in, my own way, I needed you.”
Now it’s my breath that hitches.
She nods, a tear gathering at the corner of her eye but not falling.
“That’s right. Your shock is another sign of how wrong I got it.
” She taps her thigh. “I thought if I worked hard enough, I’d be so good I’d save people and keep us together.
” She lets out a self-deprecating chuckle.
“It wasn’t the kind of attention we—” She signals between us. “—needed.”
“So …” I lick my lips and speak past the dryness around my throat. “We should have talked to each other.”
“Looking back at it all, such a stupid reason,” she murmurs, “to throw it all away.”
“Robyn, I let these feelings fester until I made decisions out of fear.” I stand, restless.
Robyn stares at me with … not quite compassion but recognition.
My gaze catches on one of the blueprints taped to the wall, unable to hold hers.
Taliesin. “You didn’t do this.” I swallow hard. “I wasn’t solid enough for you.”
“You thought I’d walk away if I knew you were struggling?”
I look at my feet. “I wasn’t doing a lot of thinking. I was locked in going through the motions and avoiding the cracks.” I face the wall, thumb worrying the curling edge of the poster. “Do you know what’s funny?” I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Or sad as fuck.”
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
“I think you need to.” I don’t turn yet. “That night—we were having dinner. Right before everything collapsed.” My voice drops. “You told me we needed to move that trip we’d planned.”
She hums.
“I had a proposal planned.” The words come out ragged, as if they made their way through broken glass. “I was going to ask you to marry me.”
Silence stretches, taut and unbearable, but the soundtrack to this moment is my heartbeat thundering in my temples.
“And that was the night she kissed me, and I didn’t pull back.”
“Oh, Nate …”
I turn. Tears track down Robyn’s cheeks. She isn’t sobbing, just shedding the weight of what we lost. She finally understands everything I threw away.
“I should’ve told you. If I had—if I’d been honest—I think we would’ve weathered it. Together.”
“Were you with her after we broke up?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“And other people?”
“Nobody. Not since you.”
“I’ve been with others.”
“I know.” My mouth tightens. “Believe me, I’m aware.”
She studies me. “What are you hoping from all of this, Nate?”
I shrug, the motion heavy. “I wanted to thank you. For being there for Mom.” I curve my lips in a small smile. “She loved it. She loves you.”
“And nothing else?”
Meeting her eyes, I don’t flinch. “Maybe I’m hoping that one day you’ll see a version of me worth loving again.” My voice is steady, even if my hands aren’t. “Because my love for you hasn’t dulled. Not even a little.”