Page 57 of Reverse

“You’re pretty transparent, Natalie. So, I’m more fucking relieved than anything.”

“Well, don’t be,” I blow out a harsh breath. “Our gossip columnist is still going to run a story Monday speculating you’re coming out with a debut album. That’s out of my hands . . . and it’s out of my hands because I can’t . . . no, Iwon’tprotect you.”

He rakes his lip with his teeth, eyes cooling considerably.

“Reason being, if I try to stop her from running it, questions will be raised by both her and my father, who will demand an explanation as towhyI’m protecting you.” I swallow. “Reasons I can’t give because I’m not allowed to and was never supposed to know you, Easton.” I test the waters. “How angry are you now?”

“I’m still standing here,” he clips out.

“Well, you are partially right in your assessment,” I admit in a whisper. “I didn’t come here to meet you as a reporter . . . but as the child of the other half of a broken love story between our parents.”

“Guess you’ve got a story now,” he grits out with a venomous bite.

“Despite the fact that you shouldn’t trust me at all at this point, I won’t use a single word of what you told me, even if it could boost circulation and my career. I’ve already decided that.”

He remains in front of me, his profile backlit by a nearby dock light.

“The truth is, it was nevermy storyto begin with. I got the information from my columnist and used it as an excuse to meet you.” I palm my face briefly. “Jesus, yeah, it sounds really,really,bad out loud.”

He remains mute, demanding the rest of my explanation.

“I told you that something happened recently that threw me off.”

A slow nod.

“The thing that happened is . . . fuck it,” I shake my head, deciding not to attempt to arrange the words and just let them fly. “I was digging through Austin Speak’s archives for excerpts of stories for our thirtieth-anniversary edition of the paper and, in doing so, stumbled upon emails between my father and your mother. Some of them were verypersonalemails, and it did something to me . . . I can’t really explain it, which is pathetic because I’m supposed to excel at describing through words.”

Easton’s expression remains unreadable. Unsure if he’s about to turn away in disgust, I rush through the rest of my explanation.

“At first, I only read a few. The beginning of their relationship and the end. I was stunned to discover they’d dated at all. As close as my father and I are, he’s never once mentioned it. Anyway, I guess you could say that once I read them, they created an alternate universe. Like,” I swallow, “like everything I knew about my parents, their history, and the fact that they even exist is more thanks to a decision onsomeone else’spart rather than the soulmates, kismet type of thing I’ve always believed. The truth is, if our parents had stayed together, they would be living entirely different lives.” I cringe. “Jesus, I know I sound like a lunatic. Especially since, in that alternate universe, you and I don’t exist.” My chest flutters with awareness and ache. “They loved each other, Easton, your mother, my father, they were really,really, fucking in love, and not for just a few months, foryears. It was serious, and what I read rocked me to my core. It shook my beliefs. It made me question a lot. And for the life of me, I cannot figure out why I’m taking it so personally or why ithurtsme so much. I mean . . . everyone has exes, right?”

I brave a look at him to see that he’s staring at me intently.

“I don’t know why I flewhereand sought you out. I swear I’m not asking for anything, nor would I ask . . . or do I want to meet Stella or Re-y-your parents. That’s not what this is. I guess it’s just a morbid type of curiosity that brought me here to meet you.” After a harsh exhale, I relay the rest of the truth. “It’s just . . . that revelation kind of cracked my sky. Those emails . . . the love exchanged. It’s altered how I view things and my parents’ relationship as a whole, and I can’t change it back. So, I just had to get away, and I came here. That’s it, that’s the whole truth.”

I shake my head and let out a low, strangled laugh. “You probably think I’m crazy now.”

Silence stretches for long seconds as I avoid his eyes.

“Crazy people don’t question their sanity,” he utters assuringly.

“Well, Ifeelfucking crazy. I just couldn’t look at my father anymore with a thousand unanswered questions I have no right to ask swirling in my head. I had to get the hell out of there. Not only because of that, but because I violated his privacy in an unforgivable way. Some of those emails were so intimate.”

Tears threaten, and my voice shakes. “Nate Butler is the person I love and respect most in theworld. My father is myeverything.Maybethat’swhy I took it so personally. So, I came here, I guess, wanting to meet you, doubtful I would get any more of a story you probably had no idea existed, either. And now . . . though the why is killing me, I don’t think I want to know the rest. Knowing the full truth will probably sting worse than not knowing, but I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for the way I did this, the way I roped you into my bullshit. It was just a lot easier to do it in a professional capacity than to admit that . . .” I palm my face briefly and smile, “is twenty-two too early to have a midlife crisis?”

Fear swallows me as his eyes remain intent, and I turn back to the water. “I’m sorry, Easton, if you want to walk away, God, go. I won’t blame you, but everything you’ve confided in me is safe, I swear to you.”

I feel the brush of his hand against mine, and an involuntary shiver runs up my spine. My lips part as I glance back at him, his face impassive as he grips my arm and turns me back to him.

“Stop fucking ducking away from me,” he commands, his order warming me, even as I shiver in the cold.

“Do you hate me?”

He slowly shakes his head before he speaks. “Are they happy?”

“My parents?” I ask.

He nods.

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