Nate handed her a small tumbler of aged Malt Whiskey – she didn’t even savour the taste, she just swallowed the amber liquid – savouring the fiery sensation it evoked at the back of her throat.
“So ... this is what? Your London place?” she asked nervously, looking around at the barren, characterless space around her.
It was very modern, its urban location reflected in the interior; lots of stone colours and stainless steel, but nothing vibrant and alive within it. It was more or less empty space; echoing and oversized.
“Yeah,” he grated, falling into a charcoal grey sofa opposite her – to be fair, that did look kind of comfy – just a bit dull.
“You have a house in every county or something?”
“No,” he chuckled softly, rolling the liqueur around the bottom of the glass, “One here, one at home, and one in Manchester. I bought this place just after Tori told me you were staying down here for good – would have been about a year after you left maybe? Made me feel close to you.”
Well, what could you say to that?
Somehow, it seemed that Nate had been just as involved in her life after they’d split as he’d ever been – but just, vicariously, through Tori. He seemed to know everything about her now, even while she’d told him nothing.
She dropped onto the sofa next to him, and lay her head on his roped, muscular thighs covered with the rough denim. For a single moment, he looked startled at the action – his hands stilling in the air – before she met his gaze, and he stroked her face softly.
“Sometimes, I can’t get my head around it,” she murmured softly after a lengthy silence, “You’ve always been there ...”
“I can’t let you go, I never could – and I did try, at first – but sometimes I think even if you were on your knees begging me to set you free, I’d not be able to. You’re mine – just... on a basic, primitive kind of level, you belong to me. Something about you just turns me Neanderthal- you’re kind of lucky I don’t have a cave, I could never give that up, even if you decided you didn’t want me.”
Her fingers inched beneath the smooth cotton – her hands itching with the need to feel his skin against hers, and she felt the ridged muscles clench under her touch.
“I don’t deserve you, or that.”
“No, you deserve far, far better, but I’m not as much of an idiot as Jayden that I’ll keep reminding you of the fact like he does Tor. This is it, for both of us, I won’t let you find someone better, I won’t even let you think about it.”
In many ways, Nate had as many shadows as she did – as many dark and lonely corners. In that moment, she actually saw some of them. His eyes had been haunted since they’d turned back to hers over the lifeless body of the man who’d attacked her – his face pained, and nervous, as though he was anxiously waiting for a rejection from her.
“I didn’t ... I mean, you know that changes nothing, don’t you Nate? Even if that makes me a cruel, heartless bitch, I can’t ... shit, I don’t know. I can’t change how I see you ... I guess, is what I’m trying to say ...” She couldn’t find the words to explain how she felt, seeing the darkest parts of him – looking at the version of him that was so very different to the gentle, considerate, but completely overwhelming form of him that she’d always needed.
His chest expanded on an inhalation as his eyes widened, moving quickly across her to see the truth in her own.
“I couldn’t breathe ... knowing he was out there and you were in so much pain ... it was killing me. I had to. And I know, maybe you don’t agree with what I did, or how I did it, but ... fuck, Shan, the things I wanted to do – I didn’t have a choice, I was going mad with it.”
“But why now? It’s been months ...”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, sighing heavily, “I think it’s because I’ve only just realised how much pain you’ve been in since it happened – how much it affected you. Jay let slip that you’ve been seeing that Doctor over in Manchester, and I could see how much you were tormenting yourself – even more so than ... before. I can’t stand to see you in pain like that, I can’t even breathe for thinking about it. And all that just ... it builds up, you know. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so fucking brutal if he hadn’t have been in the middle of a fuck-fest, maybe if I’d have found him, I don’t know, washing dishes, or something, I could’ve reeled it in. But what he did, and the affect that it had for you, and to find him in a room of near enough a dozen fuck buddies, it just made it worse.”
She knew he was right, somehow that one incident had thrown her back into fears and doubts that her father had planted in her mind when she was too young and naive to block them out.
She’d become a victim all over again, and it was difficult not to see herself as the catalyst when it was repeated. And to him – Walters – it meant nothing.
“I won’t apologise for it, but I meant what I said – I’d give anything to take those memories away from you.”
“Do you remember the first time we ever started ... experimenting? Up at the lake that night?”
“What do you think?” he smirked, lifting one eyebrow sardonically.
“Do you remember what you said to me afterwards? About needing to see everything – every side of me?” He nodded, his brows dropping low into a thoughtful frown, “Well, that’s how I feel for you. I won’t – I can’t – say that I’m not disturbed by it, that I’m not concerned that you could have been hurt,” he snorted in disbelief at that, but she continued regardless, “You could have – or you could have been caught, or anything, I guess. My moral compass is going off the metre at what I’m saying here, but I’m also sort of ... in awe of the fact that you would do something like that for me, in some dark, and morbid corner of me. Does that make any sense?”
“Yeah, I think it does,” he said slowly, stroking her hair quietly, as though she was a small child in need of comfort.
She could see the burning need in his eyes for the words – those three words that would compound everything that she was trying to say to him, but somehow she wasn’t ready to give herself over to him in that way. As much as she loved him – and she did, of course she did; with a dark and twisted kind of obsession – she couldn’t give him the words – not yet. She still had to keep a part of herself back, despite his promises of forever – she’d had them before after all, she’d had the words, the vows, and still she’d felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.
She’d felt a gaping, empty hole in her soul that she still wasn’t fully recovered from.
His eyes were heated, dark with a sensuous need as he touched his forehead to hers, “I lo- oh fuck,” he grated, as his shrill ringtone broke into the moment. “Hello,” he barked into the receiver, “Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m busy, I’ll call you later.”
Ending the call, he threw the phone aside. “We’re clear, you want to go back to your place?”
“No, Rory will probably be back there ... I don’t know if I have the strength for that drama ...” He stiffened beneath her, and she caught his hand in her own, bringing their entwined fingers to rest on her stomach. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you that he’d be there.”
“I can’t stand that little shit,” he growled angrily.
“Rory’s on self destruct, he has been for years.”
“I get that, but I just ... there’s about a thousand and one fucking things that I can’t stand him for,” his grip on her hand tightened, “Tell me you never fucked him after me ... tell me you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” she soothed, and then, seeing the relief on his features, feeling his disappointment that she’d not told him she loved him, “I ... um ... I never did, I mean, I never have, I couldn’t ...”
“But you said you had, you told me before the first time ... you said it was Rory?”
“I panicked, I didn’t want you to ... ask too many questions. I didn’t think it would matter, or that we’d be ... you know, together, I thought it would be one time. And I hadn’t told you about ... everything yet, but I knew that you’d know I wasn’t a virgin, so I just said the first name that popped into my head.”
She prayed that he understood – that he could see why she’d lied about something that had needled at him for so many years, and she clasped her fingers around his much larger hand tightly. He actually closed his eyes and sighed with relief, leaning his head back against the cushions before speaking softly.
“I know I have no right to hold it against you, to be with anyone else when we weren’t together, but it fucking physically hurts to think of it.”
Moving to straddle him, she laid her arms around his thick neck, bringing her lips to hers for a soft kiss. For once, he allowed her the lead, so that the touches were gentle, and coaxing, as she delicately ran her tongue over the seam of his lips, urging him to accept her. She moaned into his mouth as he did so, smoothing her chest flush against his, so that there wasn’t even a whisper of air between them.
“Every time you touch me,” she murmured, “It’s as if I’ve never felt another man – ever. I wish it was only ever you, I can’t tell you how much I wish I could give you that.”
He growled, standing suddenly, her long legs wrapped around his lean hips, and his hands on the back of her thighs to hold her in place.
“Well, I’ll be the fucking last!”
She giggled as he threw her back against the soft covers on the bed a few moments later, his body prowling over hers, the denim rough against her bare legs.
******************************
They drove home the next evening, having spent a day completing the paperwork for Shannon’s flat, and handing over the keys to the Estate Agent.
Nate had inspected the flat, and arranged for all of the stuff that Shannon had put into storage to be taken back to Tori, so that she would keep them there. Shannon hadn’t wanted to see the flat again – not after what had happened.
“What .. uh, what happened to Molly?” he asked suddenly, at one point in the dim light on their journey, his voice awkward, and nervous, as though he worried about upsetting her, “I mean ... after? Is she, I mean, is there a ... is she in London?”
She reached a hand over to his strong thighs, feeling the muscles tense and relax as he worked the pedals, and he visibly sighed in relief at the contact.
“You can ask about her, you know,” she said softly, “You do have a right to know, don’t feel like you can’t because you’ll upset me. She was your child as well, you don’t have to tread on eggshells.”
“Thank you,” he took a hand from the steering wheel to clasp hers for a moment softly, before moving to the gear stick between them.
“No, she’s not in London. She was cremated. I have her ... at uh, she’s at Tori’s. I’m still trying to ... I don’t know, work out how to set her free I guess. Nothing felt quite right.”
She’d thought about it a lot over the last four years – she wanted to spread them somewhere, but London had never seemed the right place. Everywhere there felt too ... cold. Anonymous. It hadn’t ever felt right.
She wanted to do this one last thing for her daughter, but it was such a final goodbye, that she just felt it would have to be perfect.
Nothing had been perfect.
“You want to do that?” he asked quietly, his knuckles white around the wheel, “To spread them somewhere?”
“I think so. Well, no actually, I know that I do. But I don’t know where, really, I need it to ... feel right, I guess. Maybe we can figure something out one day ...”
Wistfully, she stared out of the passenger window, watching the scenery fly past as they sped down the dual carriage way.
“She was born in November, right?” That was the date he’d seen on the birth certificate ...
“The third,” she said quietly.
“Then we probably ... you probably conceived on the beach then,” he cleared his throat softly, pained memories floating through his mind at that place, those times, when everything had seemed so perfect but there were demons and shadows everywhere.
Thoughtfully, she looked over at his profile, watching the emotions race across his face; sadness, emptiness.
“No, I think you were right the first time,” she smiled softly, “We made her, I wasn’t alone. And I think the beach is a beautiful idea, I like that.” They were both lost in their thoughts for a moment, both quiet and musing. “I will always be sorry that I forgot that – that she was both of ours - when I ran away, you know that right?”
He nodded, lifted her hand from his leg, and kissed each fingertip.
“I don’t need anything back from you, I know you’re not ready,” he said softly, “And it’s completely inappropriate timing, because I can’t even look into your eyes when I say it ... but I fucking love you ... I adore you. There is nothing you have to be sorry for ... ever.”