Chapter 4 - THE THING HE NEVER TALKED ABOUT
Nathan rarely spoke about himself.
I noticed that quickly.
He asked about everyone else.
Eleanor.
Ava.
My work.
My childhood.
But whenever I asked about him, he changed the subject.
One evening, I found him alone in the kitchen.
He was making tea.
Badly.
“You're boiling the water too long.”
He looked over.
“There's a correct way?”
“Yes.”
“You're criticizing my tea?”
“I'm saving you from drinking it.”
He smiled.
“You're becoming very comfortable here.”
“Your mother is impossible to intimidate.”
“She's the only person who can say that.”
I sat at the counter.
“Where's your father?”
His expression changed.
“Dead.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It's fine.”
“No, it isn't.”
He looked at me.
I continued.
“You don't have to pretend with me.”
Something shifted in his eyes.
“My father died when I was twenty-three.”
“What happened?”
“Heart attack.”
I nodded.
He looked down at his hands.
“He left a company behind.”
“You built it?”
“I rebuilt it.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn't know what else to do.”
That answer hurt more than I expected.
“You could have done anything.”
“I wanted to protect my mother.”
“And yourself?”
He smiled without humor.
“I wasn't very good at that.”
Silence settled between us.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed immediately.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Don't touch anything.”
He ended the call.
I stood.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“That didn't look like nothing.”
He looked at me.
“There was an issue at one of the hotels.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I believed him.
Mostly.
But later that night, I heard voices outside the library.
Nathan was arguing with a man.
“You don't get to bring her into this.”
The other man replied:
“She already is.”
I froze.
Her?
Who?
I stepped away before they could see me.
The next morning, Nathan acted normal.
Too normal.
That afternoon, Eleanor received an envelope.
She opened it.
Her face went pale.
“What is it?”
She folded the paper quickly.
“Nothing.”
I recognized that answer.
It was the same one I had used when Nathan asked about my financial problems.
I sat beside her.
“You don't have to tell me.”
She looked at me.
“I know.”
Then she whispered:
“Someone wants my son to fail.”
I frowned.
“Business competition?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
She looked toward the window.
“Family.”
I felt a chill.
“Who?”
“My husband's brother.”
“Why?”
“Because Nathan inherited everything.”
Eleanor's hand trembled.
“Some people believe they deserved what he received.”
That night, Nathan came home late.
His knuckles were bruised.
I saw them.
He saw me looking.
“It's nothing.”
I smiled sadly.
“You're terrible at lying.”
He looked almost amused.
“Occupational hazard.”
But his eyes were worried.
And for the first time, I understood something.
May you like
Nathan wasn't keeping secrets because he didn't trust me.
He was keeping them because he was afraid that if I knew everything, I would leave.
