Page 44 of Beautifully Broken
I took a sip of water and walked over, cracking it open.
Nate stood there with two bottles of water and his usual raised eyebrow. “You hiding from your own front yard now?”
“Not hiding,” I said. “Just… avoiding.”
“Same thing.” He stepped inside like he owned the place, handing me one of the bottles as he glanced toward the front window. “She looks good.”
I didn’t bother pretending not to know who he meant.
“I hadn’t noticed,” I lied.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I didn’t argue.
We moved into the living room, both of us lingering by the window. Emily was laughing now, tucking a pen behind her ear. The couple trailed her into the house, and the door closed behind them.
“You okay?” Nate asked, softer now.
“Yeah. Just…” I hesitated. “That house was empty for months. It was quiet.”
“You don’t like the idea of someone else living there?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I stared down at the condensation sliding down my bottle. “We used to argue about kids,” I said suddenly. “She didn’t want them. I did.”
Nate looked over but didn’t say anything.
“I told her it didn’t matter, that we had time. But we didn’t. And now I don’t even know if I still want them, or if I just wanted the chance to decide together.”
We sat in silence.
“She wouldn’t let me get a dog,” I added. “Said she didn’t want the mess. So we compromised on a cat.” I had never understood her logic on that one. Nacho created more of a mess with his litter and water bowl than any dog I had ever met.
Nate snorted. “So Nacho is supposed to be my nephew?”
I nodded.
“She gave a little. So did I. That was us. All the way to the end.”
I wasn’t sure why I was saying any of this. Maybe because Emily was over there, and she looked like she belonged to a life that was still happening. Not one that had already ended.
Nate clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“You don’t have to decide anything right now. But you can’t keep watching life from behind a window with your cat.”
I gave him a look.
“Okay,” he amended. “You can. But it’s a little tragic.”
We both turned as the front door across the street opened again. Emily stepped outside alone this time, scribbling something on her clipboard as she moved toward her car.
She looked up. Saw us. Smiled.
And waved.
I didn’t even think. Just lifted my hand and waved back.
“She still shows up,” Nate said quietly.
