With a smile on my face and worry in my heart, I stride to the door and throw it open. Nathan stands there, bowed under the weight of the world. His shoulders are slumped. His chin dropped. His eyes downcast. When he looks at me, I fall into an abyss of sadness. Like he’s holding my hands and plunging us into the depths of the ocean, bubbles rushing against our skin, hair drifting upwards in a languid dance as we sink farther and farther from the light.
“What’s wrong?” I reach for him, my hands gripping his biceps, sliding up and around his shoulders, until my palms rest on his chest.
The worst of me worries he's here to break things off. He read the article and now that the world knows how we started, he’s too embarrassed to keep going. The rest of me knows this is more than that. Something truly terrible has happened.
Nathan steps into my embrace, tucking his face into the crook of my neck, his arms limp at his sides. His shoulders shake as he inhales a stuttering breath, then lets it loose with a low sob. I run my hand in circles along his back, holding him while he cries.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “I’m here.”
I whisper to him as we stand in the doorway, the wind rustling in the palms, the sky black on black on black. After minutes of stillness, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close, so close. As if he can steal safety just by being near me. I do my best to give it to him.
“It's Nick,” he says hoarsely. “Nick’s missing.”
A long sigh escapes me. Dread weighs on my heart. This was the beginning of the end for my father. Missing. Then injured. Then discharged. Mom used to say he would have been better off if he’d died. That the man she knew and loved was killed that night and a stranger sent home in his place.
“Oh, Nathan…”
“My family called a meeting at The Hut so we could be with my aunt and uncle. We were all just sitting in that room, desperate for more information. Waiting to hear if Nick’s gone forever or coming home or hurt or lost or what?” Nathan holds out his hands, lifting his shoulders and closing his eyes. “All of us, hoping for something certain. Something solid. But there isn't anything real to grab onto. That's all we know. He's missing.”
“Come inside,” I say, oh so quietly. “Come in and be with me.” With gentle hands on his shoulders, I pull Nathan into my apartment, then close the door. He’s aimless. Standing in the foyer, waiting for direction. I lead him to the couch. He sits, elbows on knees, hands limp, gaze on the floor as he shakes his head.
I bring him a glass of water then sit beside him. He immediately drops his head into my lap, curling up like a little boy. I run a hand through those dark locks, hints of mahogany and gold shooting through them. He’s silent for a long time and I honor that. Holding him. Letting him know I'm here, but not pressuring him to say or be or do anything more than he can. And in this moment that doesn’t seem to be much. I imagine myself pulling the fear and worry out of him like sticky, black threads and sending it up to the universe to be cleansed. It’s a silly thing, but I feel called to do something.
“Would it feel good to talk about it?” I ask. “Or do you need quiet? Either way, I’m here.”
Nathan is still and silent for several long moments, and then, “Nick isn’t just a cousin. He’s one of my best friends.”
“The best big brother ever,” I say, remembering the conversation on the boat.
Nathan nods, pressing his lips together in a sad smile. “Nick listens. You know? And he doesn’t judge, and he won’t spread rumors. And he always has good advice. He’s a protector.”
“The kind of man who joins the Marines.”
Pride ripples off Nathan as he settles into silence for another couple minutes. “Uncle Lucas told us not to worry, not to focus on all the what ifs, but it’s hard. My brain won’t put it down.”
“Tell me about him. Focus on everything good about Nick Hutton. Maybe then your brain won’t have a chance to worry.”
Nathan shares several stories of Nick when they were younger. He’s nostalgic. Laughing. Shaking his head as he gets caught up in the memories. He tells me about a man who spent a lifetime protecting the people who matter to him. A friend. A confidant. Someone who always knows exactly what to say. Someone who goes out of his way to take care of everyone else. Someone who’s strong and kind and funny.
Nick sounds a lot like Nathan.
Maybe it’s a Hutton thing.
Eventually he sits up, gesturing and smiling as he shares a few more stories. They sound so close. Cousins, but also the kind of friends I always wished I had when I was younger. The kind who are there no matter what. Someone who knows the worst of you but sees the best and does everything they can to make sure you see it too.
The kind of friend I thought I had in Fallon.
The kind of friend I know I have in Nathan.
I swipe a hand through my hair to brush away thoughts of my so-called friend and that horrible article. They’ll be there, lurking, waiting to pounce when this tragedy is over.
“Once, when we were kids,” Nathan says, “Nick and Angela disappeared for most of a day. They didn't go far. Just down the beach, but they didn’t tell anybody where they were going and we weren’t old enough to be gone that long. Turns out, Angela had a really bad day at school and Nick thought he would give her all the time she needed to get it off her chest. And when they finally came home, his arm wrapped around her shoulder and the two of them just beaming, I felt so left out. They were always close and I wanted that, you know? I was so furious they didn't include me that I wouldn’t speak to them for the rest of the day. This time, I won't be mad when he comes back. I'll wrap that bastard in a hug and thank God he’s okay.”
I want to promise Nick will come home. That they’ll find him and whatever’s happened will be just as easy as the day he took care of Angela.
But Nathan isn’t the kind of man who takes comfort in false hope.
“He sounds like an amazing person,” I say instead.
“If the situation were reversed, he’d be halfway to finding me by now,” Nathan says with a sad smile. He stands, pacing to the window and then back again. “I feel so powerless.”
That makes two of us. I want so desperately to make it better but can’t think of anything to do other than be here, listen, and find a way to take his mind off things once he’s had a chance to process.
“What would Nick tell you to do?” I ask and Nathan pauses, staring at me like he’s had an epiphany. Everything about him softens and for the first time since he knocked on my door, the clouds of sadness lingering over him lift. Just a little. But it’s a start.
“He’d tell me to stop worrying about things I can’t control. Especially when there’s a beautiful woman looking at me the way you are right now.”
The warmth in his voice brings a blush to my cheeks. “And how am I looking at you?”
“Like you’d do anything to make me feel better. Like you understand everything I’m going through. Like you like me. And you’re not just with me for the fun times. You’re with me.”
I sit there, on the couch, stunned into silence by his words.
Everything he said is true.
I don’t just like being with him.
I’m with Nathan West.
With my body.
My mind.
And in my heart.
I’ve never felt anything more real in my life.
THIRTY-FIVE
Nathan
I left The Hut and drove straight to Mina’s apartment. I needed her. I couldn’t imagine going through this without her.
She comforted me for who knows how long, running her hand through my hair while I rambled, lost in my pain. Lost in uncertainty. She listened to my past, my present, and my fear of the future all jumbled up and spilling past my lips in an incoherent stream of consciousness. And now here I am, smiling. Totally aware that she is the ‘something good’ Nick told me to look for when he was standing in my office at the foundation six months ago.
That conversation feels like another life.
One where I was hurting and receding, pulling inward and losing trust in the world.
