Page 60 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

He doesn’t look at me right away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. When he finally does, there’s something raw in his eyes, something that makes my chest ache.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice low. “I just… I can’t understand how someone could walk away from their own child. From their family.”

I reach out, resting my hand lightly on his arm. “She lost more than you did, Nate. She lost you. She lost Max. That’s on her.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, his jaw tight. Then he nods, just once, as if he’s forcing himself to accept the truth in my words.

“Do you ever wish things had been different?”

He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “There was a time when I did,” he admits. “When I thought maybe I could have done something differently, been someone different. But not anymore.”

“Why not?”

He looks at me then, really looks at me, and the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. “Because I wouldn’t be here. With Max. With you.”

The words hang in the air between us, heavy and electric. I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t.

Instead, I look away, focusing on the waves crashing against the rocks below. My heart is racing, my mind a whirlwind of emotions I can’t quite name.

We sit in silence for a while, the only sounds are the ocean and an occasional cry of a seabird. When Nate speaks again, his voice is softer, more vulnerable.

“You’re different, Liz,” he says.

“Different how?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

He hesitates, as if searching for the right words. “You don’t expect anything from me. You don’t push, don’t judge. You just… see me.”

I swallow hard, his words hitting me like a punch to the chest. “Maybe because I know what it’s like to be invisible.”

His gaze sharpens, and I realize I’ve said too much.

“What do you mean?” he asks, leaning slightly closer.

I force a small laugh, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing. Just… my ex never really saw me either. Not the real me, anyway.”

His expression softens, and he reaches out, covering my hand with his. “His loss,” he says simply.

The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down my spine, and for a moment, I think about leaning into it, letting myself fall into whatever this is. But then I pull away, standing abruptly.

“We should go,” I say, avoiding his gaze.

Nate stands as well, his brow furrowing. “Liz?”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, forcing a smile. “Really.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods, gathering the blanket and thermos.

As we make our way back down the trail, the silence between us feels heavier than before. I keep my eyes fixed on the ground, my thoughts spinning.

By the time we reach the car, I’ve managed to push most of my emotions back into the box where they belong. Or so I tell myself.

“Are you okay?” Nate asks as we climb inside.

I nod, forcing another smile. “Of course. Just tired.”

He doesn’t push, but I can feel his eyes on me as he starts the engine.

The drive back to the house is quiet, save for the soft hum of the radio. I lean my head against the window, watching the familiar streets pass by.

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