Page 95 of Fierce Love
When I flick open the lid, I can’t help a little laugh. The tiny diamond is pitiful compared to what I can afford now, but this fucking thing meant the world to me that night, in the weeks leading up to that night. For months, and behind my mother’s back, I’d tucked away every dollar I hadn’t spent on looking after Hollyn and Verna. I’d bought this ring with intention and certainty and so much hope for the future.
And for the first time since then, I feel exactly the same way.
Chapter Forty-Five
Hollyn
Unsure of what to do, I sent Kinsley to Indy’s house with Henry for the night. We can’t stay here, in this house, when Nathaniel probably can’t stand the sight of me. I’ve packed as much of Kinsley’s and my things as I could into the suitcases we had when we arrived.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to pick up some boxes to pack everything else. Assuming Celia lets me leave the island with Kinsley, even though Nate now knows everything, we’ll be gone as soon as I can get our things shipped.
It’s late, so I can only assume Nate’s gone to stay at his apartment. I close my eyes and take some deep breaths. Every time I think about how much I’ve hurt him, I want to burst into fresh sobs. I haven’t had the courage to text him. If he wanted to see me, he would.
I don’t hear the door open and close, but I do hear Nate’s voice reverberating through the house when he calls my name.
“Hols? Where are you?” There’s a hint of panic in his voice, and I hurry to the top of the stairs.
“I’m here,” I say, a rush of relief washing over me that he came back. Maybe it’s only to say goodbye for real, but he’s here.
“Can you come down? We’ve got a lot to talk about.” His voice has gone from slightly panicked to weary.
I descend the stairs one at a time, as though walking to my execution. Internally, I try to brace myself for whatever he might say about my choices, now that he’s had time to process what I did.
When I enter the oversized living room, dining room, and kitchen, Nate is over by the fireplace mantel, a drink already in one hand and a manilla envelope in the other. After today, I’ve seen enough of those long brown envelopes to last a lifetime.
“I see you’ve packed.” He gestures toward my suitcase and other things strewn by the front entrance, waiting for me to get boxes tomorrow.
I meet his gaze, but I’m not sure what to say. His tone feels indecipherable.
“Here,” he says, passing the envelope to me.
I brace myself for a notice to vacate his property, or a termination slip from the show, or anything else that clips the strings that tie us together one by one.
Wordlessly, I slide the document out, and as I scan it, understanding dawns.
“I have full custody of Kinsley?” My voice is hushed, barely above a whisper.
“You do,” he says, and when our gazes meet, the toll that today has taken is obvious. He looks exhausted, probably as emotionally wrung out as I feel. “And I think, if I’ve put the pieces together correctly, that’s the last hold my mother had on you.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I will them not to fall. Technically, she could force me to pay back all the money she spent to finance my college degree, but I have a feeling Nate would just take it out of one bank account to put it back in another, even if I told him not to.
“That was the big one, yeah,” I admit, my voice thick. Maybe Celia would never have taken full custody of Kinsley, but she could have made our lives extremely difficult if I didn’t play by her rules. I knew the risks when I made the deals, but I never expected Nate to come so fully back into my life, to make me question every decision I ever made. “Thank you.” I can barely get the two words out. “You didn’t have to.”
“I did,” he says. “Because when I ask you the next question, I don’t want you bound to anyone but yourself. I need the truth, Hols. I need the complete and utter truth for my sanity. Do you understand?”
Tears have blurred my vision so much that I can hardly see him, and I nod.
“Do you want to be with me?”
“More thananythingin the world.” Tears spill onto my cheeks, and my words are garbled coming out of the tightness in my throat. “But I know… I know what I did is probably unforgiveable.”
“Whatyoudid? Protecting your aunt and your sister is themost forgivablepart of this mess.”
“What?” I whisper, stunned. Maybe I could never bring myself to regret the choice I made—but I’d never expected Nate to forgive me for it, especially after I saw the damage I’d done.
Nate sets his drink on the mantel and closes the small distance between us. “You were eighteen. Manipulated and backed into a corner. Do I wish you’d been able to see that there were other choices? Yes. Do I wish you’d talked to me that night? Yes. But I also can’t even imagine the panic you must have felt when yourealized your aunt was in jail and your mother was pregnant. That’s a one-two punch, and I can see how it would have knocked out eighteen-year-old you. I hate it, and I get it.”
I shake my head, unsure of how to respond. Deep in my gut, teenage me thought Nate and I were doomed. He’d go off to college, and he’d find someone smarter or prettier or wealthier than me—his mom’s words, those of his friends, got under my skin deeper than I thought. All those concerns seem silly now, shameful. None of that mattered. Our connection is so strong, and it’s so rare to feel this way about another human being that all my past worries seem trivial.
