He nods. “She thinks very highly of you.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them away, masking the urge with a forced chuckle. “Well, she’s biased. She’s practically family.”
There’s a lull, long enough for the server to collect our plates and ask if we need anything else. I shake my head, then glance at Nathan, who surprises me by asking for two coffees, black.
“Just to buy us a few more minutes,” he says when the server leaves.
The restaurant is nearly empty now. The ocean’s voice comes through the glass, constant and soothing. Nathan rests his chin on his hand and studies me with an openness that is both alarming and magnetic.
“I should probably confess something, too,” he says, and the words tumble out of him with a candor that stuns me. “I wasengaged before I left Charlotte. For three years, to a woman named Melissa. Though we were together for almost a decade. We called it off a month before the wedding. Sometimes I think about her more than I want to admit. Not in a pining way, just…trying to figure out what I did wrong.”
I swallow, both moved and relieved by this revelation. “Do you know…what you did wrong?”
“I think…I wanted more than she was able to give. In the end, I wanted a different life, a different person.” His tone is devoid of bitterness, but there’s an undercurrent of regret. “I think we just both got lost somewhere along the way.”
I process his words, wondering what it means that he’s chosen now to share this with me. “Do you regret it?”
“The relationship? No, she was the love of my life. But I regret the way it ended.”
I must have looked shocked because he’s quick to explain, “Not that I want her back or anything like that. I just… I wish it hadn’t ended so messily. We both said things we didn’t mean, and I think it made both of us feel worse. It’s strange, you know? How someone can go from being the most important person in your life to a stranger you used to know.”
It’s raw and real and surprisingly tender. I find myself both admiring his strength in being so open and feeling a twinge of jealousy toward his ex. The feeling is childish, I realize, but it doesn’t vanish entirely.
“So…” Nathan’s voice cuts through my thoughts, drawing me back into the glow of the restaurant. “That’s my baggage.”
I give a soft laugh, the tension dissolving. “Well, it seems we both have suitcases to carry.”
“Makes the journey more interesting, doesn’t it?”
I reach across the table, fingers grazing the back of his hand. The touch is tentative, but he turns his palm upward, inviting.I let my hand settle there, warm and awkward, two grownups pretending not to notice how badly we both want contact.
The server brings the coffee, sets it down quietly, and disappears. For a minute, we say nothing, just let our hands rest together on the wood.
“I think everyone’s afraid of starting over,” I say. “Whether it’s after a breakup or a personal loss, it’s a chapter of life that’s ending. We’re conditioned to believe it’s a failure, or a sign that we’ve somehow gone off track. But maybe it’s just the universe giving us another chance to find what we’re meant for.”
Nathan’s thumb brushes over my knuckles, slow and deliberate. “You’re wiser than you give yourself credit for, Diane. And far braver.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I say, but his words, the soft way he pronounces my name, sends warmth spiraling through me.
We sip our coffee, staring out at the blue-black void beyond the window, and for a rare moment, I feel at home in my own skin.
By the time we leave, the staff is stacking chairs and mopping the floor. Nathan stands, offers me his arm. I take it, more certain than before. As we walk to the car, I glance back at the restaurant. I wonder how many people have started something new in that little room, how many have risked the awkwardness and the unknown. I also think about my parents, who long ago might have sat in that same spot, staring out at the same restless ocean. Maybe we’re just another pair in a long, unbroken chain.
21
Diane
We’re almost to the car when Nathan stops, just shy of the curb. He hesitates, rocking on his heels. “There’s a theater in Manteo,” he says, voice low. “They’re showing this Japanese monster movie, I think. I know it’s late, but…if you’re not sick of me yet?”
I’m so relieved at the prospect of not ending the night that I almost laugh. “I’d love to. Just let me call Cass to tell her where I’ll be.”
I find the pay phone and drop a coin into the slot. Cassie answers on the first ring, “Hello, Montgomery residence.”
“Cass, it’s me,” I say, my words hurried. “Nathan and I are going to catch a movie in Manteo. I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t worry.”
“Oh, a movie. How romantic,” she teases. “That must mean things are going well.”
I blush, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t wait up for me, okay? We might be late.”