Page 36 of Be My Reason

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The benefit of living where you work is that when I work late, as I am today, I can justgo right up to my apartment and relax. No commute, no waiting in traffic. It’s one of the reasons I love this place.

It’s not too late, only about six-ish, but it is late for me as ordinarily I cut out around three o’clock since I show up early in the mornings. I’m spent. My hands are raw after the thorough cleaning of the catering equipment. I’m dragging my feet up the stairs. I don’t even think I have the energy to make dinner. I can’t wait to dive into some ice cream and watch a couple of programs I’ve recorded.

I headstraight to the kitchen and open the freezer.Did I buy this much ice cream?There are two gallons of mint chocolate chip ice cream staring me in the face. A going away present from Emma, perhaps. I grab one along with a spoon, bypassing a bowl completely and head to the couch.

That’s when it hits me.Something is different. I can’t quite put my finger on it. It even smells different in here. I look around and see some boxes piled behind the couch.I thought they got all of them.

I put the ice cream down on the coffee table andgo over to my room. Everything looks okay in here. Now I head to Emma’s room . . . er, the spare bedroom. My eyes widen and confusion sets in when I see several more boxes on her bed and some suitcases by the closet. “Emma?” I ask to no one in particular because there isn’t anyone else here.

What’s going on?I peek my head back out into the living room and look around. Then I stride across the room to the suitcases and find an ID tag hanging off one of them. I open it up, pulling the little leather flap away from the viewing window and take in a sharp breath when I read the name.

Nathan Riley.

“What. The. Hell?” I say out loud.

I run out to the kitchen and get my phone.

Crap. I deleted his number years ago. I tap my screen a few times and pull up a different number. It rings only once. “Lyn, sweetie, how are you?” she says about an octave too high.

Oh God.She knows about this. “Seriously, Emma?” I yell. “What are you thinking? There is no way in hell that I’m letting Nate Riley live with me for a few months. I do not want that man in the same town, let alone the same apartment. You call him right now. This minute. You tell him to come pick up his stuff and go to a hotel, or his sister’s house . . . or anywhere but here.”

Then it dawns on me. “How long did you have this planned? The whole seeing his sister thing, was that all a lie so that you could stonewall me into this?”

“Calm down, Lyn.” I can hear her smiling and it pisses me off even more.

“Calm down?” I yell. “Calm down? Since when do you get to make decisions about my life without consulting me?”

“Because I know you,” she says. “Because I knew you wouldn’t go along with it. But also because I know that it’s the best thing for you. You are alone now and I hate that. He is alone in a city that he despises. You guys need each other whether you know it now or not.”

“Plus,” she adds, “I do kind of own the building.”

“Oh, you did not just play the landlord card with me.” I stomp my foot like she can see it.

“Sorry, Lyn.I shouldn’t have said that. But please, just give it some time. He really needed a place to stay. Nobody does short term leases anymore.” I hear the pleading in her voice.

“I have to get out of here before he gets home.” Iquickly throw the ice cream in the freezer. Then I grab my keys and fly out the door and down the stairs. “I’ll talk to you later, Emma.”

“Wait—” is all I hear before I cut her off.

Then I turn off my phone.

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I try to fill my parents in as best I can, but it isall kinds of uncomfortable telling them about losing my virginity at age seventeen. They knew I had a crush on him. They saw how broken I was after he left. But this is probably something they never wanted to know, not really.

They let me talk until my throatgets sore, then Mom leads me to my old room.

My room.My sanctuary growing up. They never changed a thing. It looks exactly the same way it did when I moved out four years ago. Right down to the picture of Nate tucked into the side of the mirror. It is wrinkled and weathered from the years it spent under my pillow, but Emma never let me throw it out. She said one day I’d be glad I kept it. I’m still waiting for that day.

My mom tucks me into bed, just like she did when I was little.“I want to tell you something that happened at Emma’s wedding,” she says. “I probably should have told you weeks ago but I didn’t think you would see Nate again.”

She is rubbing my hair and it is as soothing and comforting as ever. “I ran into Nate’s father.”

I turn my head around to see her face and I raise my eyebrows at her.

“He wanted to apologize to us for hurting you all those years ago,” she tells me.

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