Page 56 of Last Summer

You weren’t supposed to forget Simon.

Damien knows something. And he’s not talking. Rather, he wasn’t willing to talk until she told him about the Nathan Donovan assignment.

“Do you wish you could forget so that it doesn’t hurt so much?” she asks.

“No. But there are nights I can’t sleep, and I wish...” His voice trails off.

“You wish it never happened and that you can forget it ever did,” she supplies.

“Is that so terrible? To make myself believe I never had a son just so I can get through the day? Or have a decent night’s sleep? I sound like an asshole.”

“No, you don’t. You sound human. The pain never goes away, Nathan. You have to function, so you learn to live with it or you bury it. Who knows, maybe everyone’s right. Maybe I should count my blessings and be grateful I can’t remember. I’ve lost people close to me and getting over their deaths wasn’t easy. I’m not sure I ever really have, actually.”

“You’re thinking about Grace.”

“What exactly did I tell you about her?” she asks, still surprised she’d been so open with him last summer. She isn’t sure how she feels about that. Uneasy? Yes. Concerned? Definitely. Because that would mean Nathan meant something to her.

Nathan’s thumb lightly brushes the back of her hand where she grasps the edge of the counter. The gentle touch zings through her, making her all too aware of his nearness—the height of him and the breadth of his shoulders, the scent of fruit on his breath from the wine, and the faint smell of smoke from the barbecue clinging to the fibers of his shirt. She swallows roughly and forces herself to look up at him, not at her hand, where she can feel the rough, calloused skin on his fingertip. Probably from chopping wood. How cliché, she thinks. But there’s a huge pile stacked against the house. Someone had to chop it.

“You told me you lost her in high school and that you blame her father, but you also blame yourself. You didn’t tell me why, only that she committed suicide at your house.”

Ella pulls away her hand. Whoa! She’d told him all that? With a quick glance at the oven clock, she rubs the area where he touched. “It’s late. I should go.”

“You’re welcome to stay here if you don’t want to drive in the dark.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.” She smiles stiffly, moving to the dining table.

“I scared you off. I told you too much.” He follows her out of the kitchen.

“No, it’s late.” But yes, he did scare her. She’s scared of how much she opened up to him. How easily she could grow to care for him. Again, it would seem.

He nods solemnly and backs away, giving her space. “I’ll walk you out.”

Ella packs up her belongings. She changed back into her turtleneck and skinny jeans earlier and left the hiking clothes folded on top of the boots in the bathroom. They don’t feel like her clothes and it doesn’t seem right to take them with her.

“What you said about Stephanie earlier,” Nathan says when she shoulders her bag. He starts walking with her toward the door. “You were right. I wanted a marriage like my parents’. I knew the moment I met her we didn’t have anything in common. But I wanted her to see the world the way I did. A big adventure. She was a city girl who’d never worn a pair of trail shoes before we met. I thought I could teach her to love the outdoors.”

“She resisted.”

“She did, and I resented her for that. Couldn’t she at least have tried?”

Ella senses the question is rhetorical and doesn’t comment. Maybe Stephanie did try, and he didn’t see it because he wasn’t there with her. She follows him into the cold night air.

They reach her car. “Same time tomorrow?” she asks, tossing her bag into the back seat.

“Eight a.m.”

“All right, see you in the morning,” she says, covering a yawn as she settles into the driver’s seat and starts up the car. “Good night, Donovan.”

“See you tomorrow, Skye.” He shuts the door and taps on the window. She eases it down. “Dress warm.”

“Why? What are you planning?” Please not another long hike. While the scenery was gorgeous and the mountain air invigorating, they wasted several hours hiking. Yeah, they talked, and she dictated notes later from memory. But they covered too much literal ground rather than interview ground.

He grins. “Not telling. Drive safe.” He claps the roof of the car and backs away, giving her room to turn around.

“Make sure you leave enough time for our interview,” she yells out the window as she drives off. He’s only giving her one more day.

At the hotel, Ella wants nothing more than to soak in a hot bath and collapse on the bed. But she has work to do—more notes to dictate from today and questions to outline for tomorrow. She also wants to check in with Damien. She’d silenced her phone so that it wouldn’t distract her when she dictated, and later, when they ate.

---