18
spiral

I was on edge.

Nate, meanwhile, seemed lost in his own world. He didn't approach my seated form on the bed, and instead let his eyes stray from my gaze as he glanced around the room. The silence was heavy upon us as he took slow, calculated steps along every inch of it, searching for something he would never find.

"I've missed this," He murmured, more to himself than to me. He stopped in front of the picture of me and my father, fingers tracing the frame. "Being here, I mean. It feels like it's been forever."

There was a fairly logical reason for that, that reason being that it had been a long time since we visited — at least a year. But with the way he said it I knew he meant more: the distance we had aged us more than our numbered days ever could.

What I said to him, though, was different. "Yep." I merely said in a clipped tone, clasping my hands together as I rested my elbows on my knees. I watched his unmoving figure warily.

He turned then, and walked over to me. Without asking, he took a seat beside me, so close that our legs were touching. The word move rested on my tongue but was sucked underneath the rising currents of my heartbeat. It was the embodiment of Murphy's Law, and though I dreaded what would happen it didn't matter because the pieces were already in place for collapse.

"I've missed you, too." He said softly, stripped from his mask. "God, I've missed you, Lily."

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.

"You told me that you weren't here to try and change my mind." I reminded him, my voice pained.

"I kind of lied." He admitted, lowering his head. "But I can't pretend that I don't miss you. I want you to come home, Lily. I want my family back."

My traitorous heart lurched for him, but I could only manage to shake my head slowly. "It won't happen, Nate. I need you to realize that."

"I understand it, Lily." He shut his eyes, agony spreading across his face. "I just wish I didn't."

We were silent for a while. It was agonizing to be anywhere near him; the wounds were still fresh. I dug my fingernails hard into my palm, watching as a little row of red crescent moons appeared across it. It was soothing in a way.

"If we're really going to do this," He sounded resigned, "then at least promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Don't take them away from me."

The raw desperation in his voice made me crumble inside. With each passing second, I felt worse and worse for whisking Celia and Joseph away. Part of my mind protested — it took two to tango, and neither of us were innocent.

My heart was torn. The option that was a no-brainer was saying that I wouldn't; besides the affair with Georgina, he was a good father. It was obvious how much he loved our children, and they loved him too. But the skeptical part of me took charge, asking why he hid them, and whether the vile side of him that led to his betrayal was safely tucked away forever.

Taking all this into consideration, I avoided his question. "Why did you hide them from Georgina?" I asked quietly.

He sighed heavily, but he seemed to expect the question. He knit his fingers together and stared down at them. "I thought I was doing the right thing." He let out a humorless laugh. "Relatively speaking. I didn't want them involved because I wanted to protect them."

I ran a hand through my hair, thinking back to all the efforts he made to hide them. If he was just trying to protect them, he was surely dedicated to his cause, and that wasn't a pleasant thought. Everything was so meticulous, so cold from someone who claimed to love them. "You went a little overboard, don't you think?" I asked solemnly.

He looked at me thoughtfully for a few moments, but then a miserably wry expression formed on his face. "I suppose I did. I just ended up hurting them, didn't I?"

"You did."

"And I hurt you, too."

His voice was too tender, too caring. It was dizzying.

"Yes." I replied simply. "But it doesn't matter now."

He mumbled something indiscernible under his breath, but nodded slightly. I looked down at my fingers.

"I don't like this." I admitted.

The sigh he emitted was pensive. "That's understandable." He muttered.

No, understandable was the least fitting word for all of this. "I know you're their father, Nate, but..."

"You don't want joint custody." He finished for me quietly, eyes falling flat.

Both sides were too drastic. "Just give me some time to think about it." I ended up finally saying.

He was silent for a few moments. "I guess I can live with that." He nodded, and then his eyes met mine. They were dim, but still held an edge of fire within them. "But I'm serious, Lily. When we go back, I don't want you to hide them from me again."

His voice held an edge of finality, but it barely registered; the primary feeling was that recurring guilt. "I won't." I promised.

"Thank you," For the first time during our conversation, he relaxed, his voice filling with emotion. "I can take everything else, but not —" he cut himself off, shaking his head. It shattered all fragility of the conversation. The atmosphere shifted into a place with no air, no words, and no thoughts that could be shifted into something meaningful. And here I was, stranded.

Nate took my silence for granted, letting out a heavy exhale before he finally lifted his head, eyes dark. "Do you want to know the truth about why I didn't try to see Celia and Joseph when you left?" Warning bells rang in my head at his voice, a meticulously crafted song of rising danger. It sent chills down my spine, and I hesitated.

He continued without waiting for an answer, "Julia said that if I tried to contact you or set foot on her property, she would call the police. Did you know that?"

It took all I had to shake my head.

"Figures."

"She wouldn't do that."

"Look, you can ask her about it if you don't believe me." Accompanied by a noncommittal shrug, Nate made it clear that he didn't believe a word I said. It awakened a resentment within me that I couldn't contain.

"Why should I believe you, Nate?" I spat. "You seem to be doing great when it comes to lying to me."

"You seriously think that I would do that to my own kids?" He looked at me irritably.

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Stone cold. It was the lowest of blows, and I felt my fire extinguish almost as soon as I said the words. The blue grey of his eyes morphed, lightening until they were almost crystal clear, and glistening. They looked shattered.

"Too far." He muttered. I sighed.

"Look, Nate, I know Julia would never do something like that unless she had a damn good reason to. What aren't you telling me?"

He paused, and it was then that I had the answer to my own question.

"It had something to do with that voicemail, didn't it?" I asked quietly. The one I had yet to listen to.

He shook his head, but he didn't correct me.

"What else did you say to her?" I pushed him.

"Nothing." His eyes clouded with irritation. "At least nothing that would lead her to threaten to have me arrested, if that's what you're getting at."

He was probably lying to me anyways, so I decided to stop pressing and instead made a mental note to ask Julia to listen to that phone call as soon as I got back.

In my silence, he cast me a glance. "Are you going to stay with her for much longer?"

"I don't know, maybe." I gave him a look. "Why?"

He stared off into the distance. "Well, I was thinking that maybe you don't need to. You can move back into the house — "

"But — "

"— and I'll move out." He finished.

My gaze snapped to his. "Really?"

"It's not like I'll need all that space," He said, somewhat wryly, somewhat bitterly. Immediately thereafter, he shook his head, eyes softening. "Sorry."

"It's fine." I replied, although it really wasn't. My shoulders rose up, tensing. The barrier was rebuilt.

The tension escalated to a point where it was unbearable, yet every second made me feel more relieved. Maybe, despite every other feeling I'd had for the last twelve years, we were incompatible all along. Maybe it wasn't pain clouding us, but our inability to understand each other. Divorce was the right decision, for reasons that were much prettier to the mind.

"I should probably go." Nate noted, though he didn't move an inch.

"You probably should." I agreed. I didn't move either.

Silence encompassed us again, for a much shorter time before Nate sighed, a tortured expression on his face as he stared directly into my eyes.

The grey-blue had faded, drowning in the rubble of its own storm.

"If I asked you one last time," He swallowed, "to come back to me, would you still — "

I shook my head.

"I need to hear you say it." He said, rough edges in his voice to cover the pain.

"I won't come back to you, Nate." I obliged, albeit quietly. "We're done."

"Okay," He nodded, exhaling heavily. "Okay."

Still, no move was made for the door.

"I do regret it, Lily."

"It's a little late for that."

"I know."

His eyes drifted around once more, memorizing every detail like it would be the last time he would see them. It was quite possible that it would be.

"Everything's still the same after all this time. You were never a big fan of change." He reminisced quietly.

"Why fix things that aren't broken?"

He lifted an eyebrow, his tone shifting to something vaguely amused. "I'm pretty sure your computer is." He pointed out, gesturing to the bulky desktop.

I looked at him thoughtfully. "You might be right about that." A semblance of a smile formed on his face.

"I think that I should head out now." With that, he stood, looking down at me as his smile faded. His eyes flickered over my face, a desperate sort of longing in them that made me afraid. He looked like he wanted to touch me. He looked like he wanted one last kiss.

He should've known better.

"I'll be in touch." He murmured, his hands remaining stiffly at his sides.

"See you."

Despite what I said, I followed him to the door of the bedroom, and leaned against it. I watched as he cast me one last glance, then submerged into the darkness of the hallway with the only evidence of his presence being his calculated footsteps on the floor.

I didn't know why I called out.

"Do you still want to be with her?" My voice echoed into the darkness. He stopped in his tracks.

"At first, but we're long past that now." His voice hinted at something more, a story I'd never know, shadows crossing his face.

"So it was fear then, that made you want to fix our marriage." I realized quietly. "Not love, not at first." Maybe not ever.

There was a long silence. Then —

"Maybe I shouldn't lie to you anymore."

Pain erupted throughout my chest, like bombs it detonated, blowing my heart to smithereens. He finally started to come full circle, and his revelation only did one good thing — pushed me forward in the right direction.

He descended into the darkness while I waited from the light, everything spiraling out of control once again — but this time I was along for the ride.

* * *

Morning came, and it was nearly time to leave. Mom gave me a farewell gift in the form of a lengthy discussion, in which we talked about my non-eating disorder, and of course, the divorce.

She hadn't taken it well. She had always been enamored with Nate, which was one of the main reasons why I was so reluctant to tell her in the first place. Even after telling her the whole story, she didn't want to believe me, didn't want to believe that precious Nate was anything less than perfect. She would shake her head here and there and mumble, "That doesn't sound like him," to which I had only one reply.

"He's changed."

She was angry at me for not telling her sooner, which was understandable. She also had an interesting theory regarding our divorce and the eating disorder, which was where I had to draw the line.

"For the thousandth time, I do not have an eating disorder." I said exasperatedly.

"Child, would you just hush for a minute?"

I really didn't want to hear what she had to say, but like always she ignored me and told me her theory anyway.

I'd ended up at my worst point with binge eating when I was young and unhappy with my body. It seemed to spawn from my insecurity, which hit its peak when I was surrounded by girls who were much prettier and had those perfect bodies. It faded away once I'd starting dating, and even when those relationships ended it never had something to do with someone I was jealous of.

Mom's theory was that it started again because of Georgina.

I didn't want to think that. I didn't like the idea of Georgina having that kind of power over me. I didn't like it because that was way in the past, and I didn't want that permanent chain around my ankle that could always yank me back.

"Maybe." I eventually shrugged. She looked taken aback by my calmness, or rather lack of care, but nodded.

"Just take care of yourself, alright?" Her blue eyes glistened as she gave me a hug. "If you ever need any help with anything, just call."

I knew she meant that in more ways than one as I hugged her tightly back. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, sweetheart. This'll all be over soon."

She watched from the doorway as I led the kids down to the car. It was a sunny day, abnormally warm, and there wasn't a speck of white in the entire pale sky. Celia and Joseph squealed as they got into the car, waving their small little hands to their grandmother, who waved back with a smile.

I got into the car after them, and as I buckled my seatbelt Joseph's big eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.

"Are we going home, Mommy?" He asked softly.

My smile was real. "Yes, sweetheart, time to go home."

* * *

Hey guys!

Goddamn, these chapters get more iffy as we go, so I'm actually anxiously awaiting your honest opinions on this chapter. I especially want to know your thoughts on Nate, since this was kind of a big one in terms of trying to wrap his character up into one person. Also, what do you think about Lily's mother's eating disorder theory?

So, other than that I'm not sure there's much to talk about lol but I would like to say sorry again for the long wait, and I hope that this will be the last time I say this for a while. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and love you all as always!

xoxo,
twyla