I whistle my way through Carter Enterprise’s lobby, nodding at the security guards who know me. I press the button for the elevator and wait, smiling at the three other guys waiting, too.
The doors open and I wave them ahead of me as we all press the button for our floors. I wait patiently until the doors open again. Catiya—Tris’s personal assistant—flits out from behind her desk.
“Mr. Cole, I’m sorry but you—”
“Excuse me, Catiya, I’m going to see my friend,” I say gleefully, ignoring her protests as I push open the door to his office.
The sound of the door banging off the wall echoes throughout the room and his gaze snaps up from his desk.
He frowns at me before growling out, “Nate.”
I don’t care that he doesn’t want me here, this is the first time I’ve seen him in weeks and I’m not leaving unless it’s with him in tow.
“Tris,” I say, shutting the door behind me and leisurely walking over to the crystal decanter containing the expensive whiskey he offers to clients. “It feels like it’s been forever.”
“It’s been a couple of weeks,” he grinds out.
With my back turned away from him so he can’t see my face, I smile; I’m done with his shitty mood swings and I’m about to dish up a serving of tough love.
After offering him one of the glasses I pour, I sit down in one of the plush leather sofas in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching as indecision and annoyance dances on his face.
He sighs before pushing his chair back and walking over to me, taking the glass from my hand and placing it on the edge of his desk without taking a sip. He pushes his hands into his pockets and stares out the window, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“So, what’s been going on?” I ask casually.
He tears his gaze away from the windows, tension lining his expression. We stare at each other for another beat before he says, “Pete tried to turn the board against me.”
Of course I already know this from Charlotte, but I pretend not to.
“You’re shitting me!” I chuckle and drink the rest of my drink, standing up to pour another. “What happened?”
He tells me about Pete arranging a secret meeting with the board and mentions the kids’ art show—one I should’ve received an invite to, but didn’t. My jaw ticks. “Would’ve been nice if you had invited me.”
He blows out a breath. “I didn’t think it necessary after the stunt you pulled at the recital.”
“I did nothing wrong and you know it, stop being an ass.” I sit down on the sofa again, deciding to steer the subject into neutral territory. I need to keep him talking properly before I lose him. “How’s the kiddiwinkles?”
He clears his throat but doesn’t turn around as he says, “They’re good.”
“We haven’t spent any proper time together in a while, we should do something fun!” His shoulders tense up, but I continue on anyway. “How about a cookout!”
He turns around, his face a mask of confusion. He seems to think about it but I see the very moment he shuts the idea off in his head before he barks out, “No, I’m busy.”
He plays with his suit jacket, ignoring me. I’m done being nice. “You know what.” I slam my glass down on the table in front of me and stand up, pointing at him. “You need to get your shit together.”
“You need—”
“No, I don’t need to do anything.” I take a few steps toward him. “If you opened your fucking eyes, you’d have an idea of what is going on around you, but you’re too stuck in your own selfish bubble to realize that people need you.”
“That right?” he asks without emotion in his voice. “Do you have any idea what it’s like going back to that house every day knowing that she’s not there?”
Of course I do. I’ve had to go to family dinners without them there for the last six years. “Tris—”
He squares up to me and raises his voice. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to hear your son screaming for his mom during the night? To be so scared of the dark that he has to sleep with countless nightlights on, knowing there’s nothing you can do to help him?”
I cringe; I hate hearing how Clay is coping just as badly as Tris is, but I need to steer this back to him. “Tris, I’m not talking about the kids—”
He takes another step forward so we’re inches apart now as he spits out, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to look into your daughter’s eyes and see your dead wife? Do you? Huh?”
The tension in the room reaches boiling point and I try to tamp down the anger and the sadness working its way back into my psyche, but I can’t. She was my cousin; my friend. So I get it. The pain I was in after she died was indescribable, but I knew I had to keep those kids afloat still, so I immersed myself in helping out whenever I could and work until slowly the pain dulled a little, becoming manageable.
“Do you think you’re the only one grieving?” My voice rings out in the large office. “She was my family too, just like those kids are. Yet you won’t even talk about their mom.”
“Because I fucking can’t!” he screams, his voice catching at the end as he looks away, his eyes shutting. “I can’t talk about her.”
I squeeze his shoulder gently, showing him I’m here for support. I’ve always been here. “You have to, not for you, but for those two little humans who need to know all about her.” He opens his eyes and looks at me, the tears shining in their depths nearly making me stop my onslaught, but I can’t. I promised Charlotte I’d do this. “Clay may think he remembers her, but he doesn’t. He remembers the idea of her. And Izzie? She never met her and yet you won’t tell them what they need to know.”
He takes a few steps away from me. “I can’t—”
“They need to know about her.” I start listing the things they need to know and remember about her. She was an amazing person. But as I’m talking, a vacant expression crosses his face before he closes his eyes and sighs in defeat. I know he knows I’m right, I just need to give him a push in the right direction without him feeling like I’m ganging up on him. It’s time for part two of mine and Charlotte’s plan: actually getting him to leave work.
I grip his shoulder again in silent support. “Come on. You need an afternoon off, let’s go and have a drink.”
He opens his eyes again and shakes his head; anger has replaced the vacant look that was just there. “No… I told you, I’m busy.”
I’m not letting him brush me off this time. “The hell you are. Get your fucking shit and let’s go.” His eyes widen but he doesn’t move as I hold the door open for him. “I’m not asking you to do this for me.” I pause for effect because I know what I’m about to say is screwed up, but he won’t deny the kids anything. “Do it for the kids.”
We stare at each other and I’m worried he’s going to shut down on me at any second. He’s the first to look away before sighing and grabbing his cell, following me out of the office and telling Catiya to cancel the rest of his meetings for the day before we take the ride in the elevator down to the lobby.
“We’re going for a drink?” he asks, scrolling through his phone.
“Yeah, I thought we could go to Gillies.” I needed to make something up so he isn’t suspicious as to why we’re driving toward where he lives.
I point him toward where I haphazardly parked my car at the curb and we both get in, the silence between us uncomfortable all the way out of the city.
I steal a few glances at him but he doesn’t acknowledge me, choosing to go between staring out of the passenger seat window and down at his cell. We make it to the part of town where I have to veer off toward Tris’s street and my palms start to sweat, luckily his gaze is pointed at his cell the whole time so he doesn’t bat an eyelid as I pull onto the gravel driveway.
That is until I park in front of his house and he looks up, his jaw tensing. “What are we doing here?”
He gets out and slams the door behind him as he looks at his mom’s car beside mine. I push out of my car and match his fast pace toward the doors.
“Listen, Tris, we thought—”
“Tristan!” Charlotte walks out of the front doors with Izzie on her heels.
The confusion and anger radiating off him isn’t a good sign as he looks back at me.
Shit. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all?
I stare at Charlotte as she walks through the front door, Clay and Izzie trailing behind her along with Edward.
When she called to tell me her and Nate’s plan, I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea. The last thing Tristan would want is to be ambushed, but I can see neither her nor Nate know what to do to get him to talk.
I wince as I think about the run-in I had with Tristan just a few days ago after we went to the gallery night at the kids’ art studio.
“Harmony?” I ask, pushing up off the counter.
“Yeah… she’s back. She’s the kids’ art teacher.”
My eyes widen. “You saw her? Yesterday?”
“Yeah.” He scrubs his hands down his face. “This is the last thing I need on top of all the shit going on at work.”
“Tris…” I move forward, placing my hand on his arm.
“Don’t,” he growls, backing away from me. “I can’t do this, this can’t be happening. Everything was going good—”
I laugh, so abrupt he halts. “Everything is not going good,” I tell him. “You’re walking around like a zombie. How many hours’ sleep did you get this week? You’re not talking to your mom; you’re not talking to Nate. You’re pretending, Tris. You’re acting like life is perfect when it’s not, and it won’t be until you face everything head-on.”
“You don’t have the first fucking clue about what’s going on in my life.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure I don’t, I’m only the one fielding your mother’s calls; I’m the one that has to tell Nate the kids are okay. I’m the one defending you to everyone, telling them to let you work through things.” I pause, raising a brow. “But you’re not, are you? You’re going to do it again: you’re going to pretend.”
“You’ve been talking to Nate?” he grunts. Out of everything I said, that’s what he wants to focus on?
“You know what, forget it. Like you said, I’m not needed here today, right?”
Maybe Charlotte and Nate are right: the only way to get him to face what he’s doing is to shove it down his throat.
I’m brought out of my own head when Izzie shouts, “We got out of school early!” running toward me and dropping her backpack on the floor.
“You did!” I give her a warm smile, my nerves on edge for what is about to transpire in this house.
“Go on up and get changed.” Charlotte claps her hands. “Then we can go and have fun outside!”
Izzie runs up the stairs but Clay stops in front of me, a worried look in his eyes. He’s observant and he knows something is about to happen.
“Go on,” I encourage.
He hesitates a beat before he shakes his head and follows after Izzie.
“Come on then, let’s get everything set up. Nate said they’re on their way.” Charlotte flits past me, her heels clacking on the marble floor.
Edward gives me a look that tells me he doesn’t think this is going to go down well either, but follows her dutifully, knowing whatever he says won’t be listened to either.
We make the side dishes and by the time Izzie and Clay come down, we’re outside on the patio setting the table.
“They’re here!” Charlotte pulls on her necklace nervously, looking like she regrets doing this. A quick shake of her head and the look disappears being replaced by the confident woman she always is.
Izzie follows after her back through the house as Clay sits next to me, his hands in his lap and his eyes focused on the table.
“Hey,” I say, placing my hand over his. “What’s up?”
“Dad’s not going to like this,” he whispers.
I give his hand a gentle squeeze, silently agreeing with him but not wanting to say it out loud. He can feel the tense atmosphere, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s coming from me. Maybe if I act like this is a good idea then he’ll not be so tense?
The sounds of footsteps come closer and when I turn my head I see Izzie pulling Tris through the back door. His eyes take everything in: the grill open and the table set for a cookout. His gaze finally lands on me and then Clay, the swirls in his eyes telling me he’s not happy in the slightest.
Edward shuffles in the seat opposite me as he comes under Tris’s scrutiny.
“I need to go and get changed,” he tells Izzie, letting go of her hand. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
She nods her head at him before skipping over to me and sitting on the chair to my right.
He heads inside, no doubt toward Nate and Charlotte. Izzie starts to tell us all about her friend at school and how she has a new pencil case containing hidden compartments. We all seem to be listening to her with one ear while trying to make out the murmurs coming from the kitchen.
A couple of minutes later, Nate pulls Charlotte outside saying something to her under his breath. They both reach the table and smile, Charlotte taking a seat beside Izzie and Nate sitting beside her.
“It will work, trust me,” he reassures her.
The scraping of a chair echoes around us as Izzie runs off shouting, “I’m going to find a ladybird!”
I clear my throat, gaining their attention. “Are you sure?”
They both whip their heads around to face me. “I…” Charlotte hesitates, her eyes searching Nate’s, looking for something in their depths.
“I got him here, didn’t I? That’s more than anything we’ve been able to do before.” He picks up a bottle of beer from in front of him and winks at me. “Everyone needs to relax and have fun, that’s why we’re all here.”
I bite my lip. Half of the battle was Nate getting him here—I can’t imagine that was easy—now we all just need to act normal, like there isn’t a storm cloud hanging over us waiting to downpour.
We all seem to hold our breath when Tris comes back outside dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. He heads over to Edward who’s manning the grill before removing the spatula out of his hand and taking his place silently.
Nate takes this as his cue, standing up and letting out a roar as he chases after Izzie, catching her around her waist and throwing her over his shoulder before running across the grass.
He finally places her down and she screams when he leans forward, trying to get her a second time. She holds her hands up in the air, running away with her giggles floating behind her.
Tapping fingers on a chair gain my attention and I turn around to face Clay. “Why don’t you go and play with Izzie?” I ask, grinning. “Go and have some fun!” His head swings around, looking at Tris before coming back to face me, his eyes shining with uncertainty. “Go on.”
He pushes his chair back after a few seconds, running over to Izzie who’s playing on the grass between the patio and the pool house. Izzie tags Clay and runs off, hiding behind Nate and squealing as Clay gets closer to her.
“Help me, Uncle Nate!”
He leans down, picking her up and putting her on his shoulders before he runs in a circle around the edge of the pool and back over to the middle of the grass. Clay chases after them both as he tries to keep his laughter at bay.
I smile and when I look over at Tris, he’s grinning at them too. Maybe this was a good idea after all?
I finally begin to relax at the laughter and smiles surrounding us all. My gaze catching Charlotte’s causes me to smile wider.
“You were right,” I tell her.
She leans forward, her gaze flitting over to Tris who is still standing at the grill. “To be honest, I had my doubts when he first pulled up. He was furious.” She shakes her head. “But he seems so happy right now.”
“He does,” I agree, pushing back my chair and standing up. “I’m going to get a drink, would you like anything?”
“I’ll have a glass of wine,” she answers. I look at Edward but he shakes his head and lifts his glass in the air that’s half full.
I head into the kitchen with a slight spring in my step. The last few days the atmosphere in the house has been shadowed by Tris’s bad mood. It’s not been the best of places to be, but that seems to be changing today.
Opening the cabinet door, I pull down a wine glass and a tumbler, filling mine with some soda before pouring Charlotte a white wine.
Just as I’m stepping out of the kitchen and back onto the patio, the doorbell rings, the sound reaching all the way outside. Passing the wine glass to Charlotte, I’m about to turn around and answer the door but Tris steps past me.
“I’ll get it.”
He walks inside so I take my seat and lean back, relaxing and watching the grin on Nate’s face as he runs around the backyard. He’s always so open with the kids, treating them like they’re an extension of himself. It doesn’t matter what Tris does to push him away, he always seems to shove right back and plant himself in front of him, not willing to let Tris become isolated.
He lifts his head, his eyes capturing mine right away. The sun reflects off the green, making them shine bright and sparkle. His lip curls up on one side in a slow but steady smirk and my skin breaks out in goose bumps. The longer he watches me, the more my body doesn’t know how to react; he makes me feel like I’m both hot and cold at the same time—a complete contradiction.
It isn’t the first time he’s given me one of those secret looks and I hate to admit how much it affects me, but I can’t deny the shiver that rolls through me.
Ripping my gaze away from his, I turn my head as I hear footsteps and spot Tris walking toward us, a box in his hands.
My palms start to sweat, my heart beating so loud with each step he takes that I’m sure every person here can hear it.
No. Not another one. Please don’t be for—
“It’s for you,” Tris says, handing me the package.
I stand up, my shaky legs feeling like they’re going to give way at any second when I see the same writing on top of the box along with the “fragile” sticker on the side.
My hands reach forward before I grasp it and bring it closer, clutching it to my chest as I stare down at it with wide, frightened eyes.
“Everything okay, A?”
I swallow, willing my voice to come out even. “Erm… yeah, sure.” I lift my lips up into a smile before spinning around and walking over to the pool house.
The click of the door shutting behind me has silence surrounding me. I manage to make it two steps inside before my legs give way. I hit the edge of the sofa, placing the box down carefully on the coffee table, staring at it for minutes that feel like hours.
My gaze flits to under my bed where the first package sits. What if it’s worse than that one? What does it mean to get a second one?
My knee bobs up and down as I look back at the package and continue to stare at it. Bringing my thumb up to my mouth, I bite the edge of my nail—I don’t think I can open it… but I know I have to.
I could take a leaf out of Tristan’s book and pretend it never came. No, I can’t.
I have to open it.
I have to know.
Working on autopilot, I go into the kitchen and pull a knife out of the block. I’m here in body, but my mind is somewhere far away. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m plunging the knife into the cardboard and ripping through the tape. This box is smaller than the last, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
I take a deep, calming breath, trying to keep my emotions under control as I gingerly lift up the flaps.
Pulling the black tissue paper out, I hold my breath, my fingers clutching onto something soft. I squeak, having not expected it.
Closing my eyes, I try to steady my heartbeat and slow my racing pulse before pulling the object completely out of the box. Opening my eyes slowly, I take in what I’ve been sent this time.
“What the—” My hand immediately drops it before I skitter back, trying my hardest to get away from it.
The beady eyes stare at me—taunting me.
My gaze flits down, seeing the stuffing coming out of the teddy bear’s neck—no body, just a decapitated head.
My hand flutters up to my throat, almost as if I’m checking my head is still attached.
Are they trying to tell me something?
Why now after all this time?
I slowly move forward, my shaking hand hanging in the air as tears stream down my cheeks. I try my hardest to push back the sob that wants to escape but I’m not successful. It rips through me like a bullet to the chest.
I can’t do this.
Vomit rises up my throat and I run to the bathroom, dispelling the breakfast I ate hours ago. My head hangs over the cold toilet bowl as I clutch it, trying to ground myself.
Once the dry heaving stops and my cries are under relative control, I flush it all away, standing up and throwing cold water on my face. I avoid the mirror, scared to look at myself right now—frightened at what I might see reflected back at me.
I walk back into the main area, steeling myself before grabbing the box and flattening it, throwing it by the trash can in the kitchen before going back for the head.
Bending down, I pick it up before pulling the box from under the bed and opening it up.
“I’m coming for you.” The voice has me panicking, my head whipping around as I squeeze the teddy head tighter. “I’m coming for you.”
My eyes widen as I look down at the head, realizing it’s coming from that. I drop it so fast, almost like it’s burned me—I’m not sure it hasn’t.
My body shivers but my palms sweat as it hits the top of the musical box I got in the first package, and I continue to stare down at the two things in shock.
Izzie’s laughter reverberates through the glass wall, reminding me there’s six people on the other side of the door, one of which could come in at any second.
Nate got close to the first box, I can’t let that happen again.
Closing the lid, I push it back under the bed. If I can’t see it then it means it’s not really there, right?
Pushing my shoulders back, I school my features into a determined look before pulling open the door and heading back outside.
“Sit by me, Amelia!” Izzie shouts as soon as she sees me, patting the seat next to her. I smile gently. If there’s one thing that can distract me and turn the darkness that’s swirling around me into something lighter, then it’s her and Clay. I sit down next to her before she whispers, “Why are your eyes like that?”
I swallow, looking down at the table. “Oh… I—I erm... Got something in my eye.”
“Daddy should check it, he always checks my hurts.”
“A?” Tris asks, his voice soft.
Lifting my head, I feel several sets of eyes lingering on me. I catch Nate’s, seeing the questions shining back at me before picking up my fork and looking away from him. “This looks delicious.”
Everyone starts to eat, seeming to know I’m upset but realizing I don’t want to talk about it. There’s no way I’d ever tell any of them what’s going on.
If they knew…
I can’t imagine what would happen if they found out—not only what’s happening now but what happened in my past.
Still feeling eyes on me, I look up. Tris stares at me, his gray eyes shadowed with worry. He silently tells me he’s there if I need to talk and I give him a slight nod of my head.
I appreciate it, but it’ll never happen.
The atmosphere becomes light after a while, the kids chatting away as Tris listens intently.
“Harmony,” Nate all of a sudden blurts out. Shit. Tris’s head shoots up to where Nate is now standing at the end of the table. Nate continues, “That’s who I was talking about. When you mentioned Willow Arts earlier, I should’ve told you she’d been to see me... she’s back.”
The air fills with tension as everyone goes silent. We all know she’s back, but apart from Tris mentioning her on Sunday morning, nothing else has been said.
“Willow Arts? That’s where me and Clay go, Daddy!” Izzie squeals excitedly.
“It is,” Tris replies, as he tries to keep himself under control but we can all see the crack in his facade. “How long ago?”
Nate looks away and whispers something before looking back at Tris. “A couple of months back.”
I hold my breath, my hand reaching out to touch Clay’s shoulder. He’s watching them both, knowing that whatever is transpiring isn’t good.
“You mean to tell me,” Tris thunders, standing up. “That you’ve known she’s been back for months and didn’t think I should know?”
“Well… I…”
“Jesus, Nate. She’s their art teacher.” Tris points to Clay and Izzie. “Had you told me when she first came back then I probably would have worked it out and not sent them there.” He lowers his voice but none of us can hear what he says.
“I’m sorry,” Nate sighs.
“Tristan,” Charlotte calls, but he ignores her, pushing his chair back fully.
“I need to make a few calls.”
He practically runs back into the house, leaving our silence behind. Charlotte looks like she’s about to cry as Edward reaches over and places a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I think we should go,” Charlotte says, her voice breaking on the last word as she stands up.
“We still get to go to art class, right?” Clay asks, his voice small.
“Of course!” Charlotte says, coming around to our side of the table and pulling him in for a hug.
I frown at her, knowing she shouldn’t have said that. If Tris doesn’t want them to go then it’s his decision, whether all of us disagree with it or not.
She pulls away from him, but Clay doesn’t look so sure as his gaze meets mine. This is where I’m meant to reassure him too, but I’ve never given him nor Izzie false hope, so instead I stay silent.
Charlotte hugs Izzie before walking over to Nate and having a hushed conversation. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but from the frowning faces and their eyes that keep flicking toward the house, I know they’re talking about Tris.
Shortly afterward, heels clacking along the patio sound out as Charlotte leaves with Edward behind her.
I shake my head when Nate steps closer, my gaze meeting his. “I knew this was a bad idea.” I huff out a breath. “Something tells me this was all your idea and Charlotte came along for the ride.”
“Mischief follows me everywhere I go, what can I say?” He smirks but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as his gaze falls to the kids.
I snort. “Mischief doesn’t follow you.” I raise a brow. “You are mischief.”
He shrugs. “Well can this piece of mischief help get all this cleared away?”
My gaze flits between him and the kids, knowing they need some kind of normal right now—I need normal right now. The anger is practically seeping out of the house.
“Sure.” I stand up, picking up two plates before turning to face Izzie. “If you help us then Uncle Nate will make you the biggest ice cream sundae.”
Izzie’s eyes brighten as she turns to Nate. “With lots of chocolate sauce?”
He narrows his eyes at me playfully before kneeling so he’s at Izzie’s height. “Only this once otherwise you’re going to turn into the chocolate monster.”
He scoops her up into his arms and tickles her, her giggles making the tension in the air lighter. “Uncle Nate!”
He chuckles and sets her down again. “Alright, kids, let’s help Amelia out.”
We all get to work, clearing the table and setting the plates and bowls in the kitchen before Nate pulls everything out to make them sundaes. He may be a health freak, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make one of the best sundaes I’ve ever seen. I’m practically drooling as I start washing the dishes.
He moves over to me once the kids are demolishing their ice cream, leaning his back against the counter next to the sink while still holding the tub of ice cream in his hand. He pushes the spoon into it, bringing it to his mouth as his eyes meet mine. I raise a brow, not believing what I’m seeing.
He swallows what’s in his mouth before saying, “What? A guy can indulge once in awhile.” He holds the spoon out toward me. “Want some?”
I watch him for a beat, getting caught in his eyes. The green is brighter, showing he’s in a playful mood. He may be trying to forget about what’s transpired this afternoon, and I’m more than willing to go along with it.
“Sure.” I shrug, not moving my eyes from his as I lean forward. The tip of the spoon meets my lips, the cold metal making me shiver—or is it the look in his eyes as he stares at my lips?
Opening my mouth fully, he places the spoon inside. He leans closer, his gaze flicking from my lips up to my eyes and back again as he pulls it out. I swallow the ice cream as the air around us crackles.
Clearing his throat, he moves back a step, digging the spoon back into the tub. “Want another bite?”
I swallow again, this time to try and pull myself together. “No, thanks.” I shake my head, plunging my hands back into the water.
“Oh, come on. Just one more bite, you know you want to.” He airplanes the spoon toward my mouth and I turn my head, stepping away from the sink. Water drips onto the floor from my hands as I hold them up to stop him, but he advances toward me anyway. “Where are you going? Just take a bite.”
I take several more steps back. “Don’t you come any closer, Nathan Cole.”
He tilts his head to the side, his lips now spread into a full-on grin as he lunges. I squeal, catching the kids’ attention as I spin around and run to the other side of the kitchen.
He stands on one side of the table, me on the other as he slowly drops the tub but keeps the spoon in his hand, the ice cream slowly melting.
Faking left, I run right instead but he somehow knew where I was going and catches me. His arm comes around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
“You will eat this ice cream or so help me, I—”
“No!” I shout, but I can’t hold the laughter in as he pushes the spoon closer, smearing it along my face. Keeping my lips pursed, I shake my head back and forth.
“What the hell is going on here?”
We both freeze at Tris’s booming voice, our eyes widening as we stare at each other. It’s not until now I realize how close we are. Every breath we take causes our chest to hit the other’s. The burning of his hand on my waist makes me acutely aware of the pads of his fingers and how much they light my skin on fire.
We move as one, Nate dropping his arm and me stepping away from him.
“We…” My voice trails off as I look at Tris, knowing it doesn’t matter what I do or say because he’s still hurting.
“We’re having ice cream, Tris. Lighten up a little,” Nate says as they continue to stare at each other, Tristan’s jaw twitching from where he’s grinding his teeth. “Orrrr not.” I watch Nate walk over to the kids, kissing each one on the forehead. “Be good for your dad and Amelia, I’ll see you guys later.” His gaze falls on me and he winks behind Tristan’s back making heat rise in my cheeks. “Tris? Can I have a quick word?”
“No.” Tris’s voice echoes around us, the finality of it almost shocking me. “I’ll call you.”
Nate waits a beat, his eyes boring holes into the side of Tristan’s head before he makes a noise in the back of his throat and walks out of the kitchen. The door slams shut seconds later, leaving the house in silence.
“I’ll be in my office.” He doesn’t say another word before spinning around and leaving the same way he came in.