Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Nathan had the brownest eyes I’d ever seen and a day’s worth of stubble covering his jaw, which always made men more attractive even when you thought there is no way this guy could get any more attractive, which was something I was beginning to think every time I looked at him. His lips were full and his hair was a little messy now, like he’d just taken a helmet off. I began to wonder what he would look like playing football.
“You were going to talk to me about something?” he probed after only a second or two, I hoped.
How long was I staring?
I cleared my throat. “Yes, I…um…” I slid even closer, not wanting Olivia to hear. “If I’m overstepping by asking about this, please tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
His brows furrowed. “Okay.”
“You don’t have any pictures up anywhere of your wife. Is there a reason for that?” The words left my mouth in a one-breath rush. I basically vomited them all over Nathan. And when he reacted by setting his glasses on the counter and rubbing harshly at his face with both hands, I panicked and attempted to backpedal.
“I’m sorry. I’m only asking because…Well, I shouldn’t even be asking. It’s not any of my business. I wasn’t, like, looking for photos. It was just something I noticed and I didn’t know what I should do if Marley were to ask me about her—”
His gaze snapped to mine. “Has she?”
“No.” I quickly shook my head. “No, not yet.”
Nathan sighed and looked down at the counter, then slid his glasses back into place.
“She probably won’t, and that’s my fault,” he revealed, shame lowering his voice. He stepped away, crossing the room and pausing at the fridge to peer back at me. “You coming?”
“Yep,” I answered immediately, my feet shifting fast.
I had no idea where we were going or why Nathan wanted me to follow him, but it didn’t matter and I didn’t ask. I ascended the stairs right behind him.
There were five rooms on the second floor, two of which I’d been inside. The other three remained closed. I had assumed they were all bedrooms.
“You said you’re friends with Tori and them, so I’m sure you know what happened to my wife,” Nathan said, passing the bathroom and Marley’s nursery. “Did one of them tell you?”
“They mentioned how she died, yes.”
“I was upset at first, of course—my wife was dead. I found her. Then, almost immediately, I got really fucking angry.” He stopped at one of the closed doors.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “You found her?”
Nathan looked down at me, hand on the knob, not turning.
“I didn’t know that,” I quickly said. “I really don’t know much about what happened…hardly anything. I—”
“She took a bottle of pills while I was at work. I found her in the bathroom.”
Breath left my body. I suddenly felt dizzy.
“God, Nathan, I’m so sorry.” Instinctually, I reached out and wrapped my hand around his wrist, nearly touching his hand, but then I second-guessed my action and swiftly pulled back. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
His eyes narrowed slightly and his gaze intensified, as if he were examining me. Then he looked away and pushed the door open, stepping inside the room. I followed behind him.
It was a bedroom, although I could barely see the bed. Boxes were everywhere—on the floor, covering the bare mattress, stacked high beside the dresser. None of them labeled and all of them overflowing.
“Like I said, I got angry after Sadie died. This is all her stuff. There are pictures in one of these boxes.” Nathan rubbed at his neck, a short, deep chuckle leaving him. “I think I knew I didn’t have any fucking right being mad at her, and that’s why I kept everything instead of getting rid of it. Even her clothes.” He gestured at a box with a shirtsleeve hanging out over the side. “I kept everything. I shut it up in here so I wouldn’t have to look at it.”
I moved beside him, looked around the room once more, and then stared at his profile, waiting. I knew he had more to tell me. He didn’t make me wait long.
“She never told me she was depressed,” he shared. “I didn’t even know she was taking medication until I found the empty bottle. Apparently, she started going to a therapist right after Marley was born. I was angry with her for not telling me.”
“Are you still angry with her?”
“No,” he answered immediately, meeting my gaze.
Relief filled me, not just for Marley but for Nathan as well. I didn’t know much about depression, or mental illness for that matter, but I did know one thing. And I needed to make sure he knew it too.
“I think there’s this stigma attached to depression, where the person can feel ashamed or embarrassed, and maybe that’s why they suffer alone. Not that they should feel that way. They just do.”