Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
After making their plates and getting them set up with drinks, I padded into the family room.
I smiled when they smiled and talked about how delicious the meal looked as we cleaned up their mess. Their joy was easy to latch on to. Especially Marley’s. I hugged her a little tighter on our walk to the kitchen.
“I love spaghetti,” Olivia announced, climbing into her chair. “Hey, where’s Nate?”
“He’ll be down soon. Napkin in your lap, please.” I got Marley buckled in her booster chair and handed her the cup she always used. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.” I took a seat beside her.
Olivia didn’t waste any time, twirling noodles on her fork and stuffing her mouth. She chewed loudly and licked sauce off her lip. “Mm.”
“Good?” I asked, helping Marley with her bite. She slurped a noodle, giggling at herself.
“So good,” Olivia said, concentrating hard as she spun her fork, getting her next bite ready. “Aren’t you eating too?”
Marley reached for her plate I was holding, wanting more.
“Of course I am,” I said.
After helping Marley with her next bite, breaking off a piece of garlic bread and giving that to her as well, I slid the small portion I’d plated for myself in front of me and picked up my fork. Zero appetite aside, I was going to eat the dinner Nathan had prepared. He’d worked hard on it. I alternated taking bites for myself and assisting Marley with hers, and Olivia had been right. It was so good. The sauce was full of flavor.
As I ate, I watched the stairs, waiting for Nathan to return. I wanted him to see how much we were enjoying his meal. But he didn’t come back down. And we finished eating without him.
After cleanup, which including wiping off Marley, who had a face covered in sauce, and putting the leftovers into the fridge, I grabbed the bucket of dominoes from the family room and returned to the table with them.
“Olivia, I want you to play right here, okay?”
I handed Marley a couple of blocks. She was still in her booster seat, and I wanted her to stay there for now—she was safely confined and content.
“Stack them on the table. Try to make a snake again.” I set the bucket in front of Olivia. “I need to go upstairs and I’m not sure how long I’m going to be up there. If Marley wants to get down, come get me, okay?”
“Okay.” Olivia stood from her seat and dug around the bucket. “Is Nate coming back?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out.”
“Is he sick?”
“Sweetheart, please…just play with your dominoes.”
“Okay, okay. That’s what I’m doing.”
Olivia began stacking the blocks in front of Marley. Kids occupied and self-control stretched thin, I gave in to the overwhelming urge I’d been battling against during our meal and finally slipped upstairs. The hallway was quiet as I walked past Marley’s nursery. I strained to listen.
Nathan’s bedroom door was open and the light was on. If he was still on the phone with his dad or someone else, I wouldn’t eavesdrop. I’d let him know I was there to talk if he wanted, and then I’d leave him to his call.
But I didn’t hear his voice. I didn’t hear a sound.
Nathan was seated on the bed, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and his head lowered as he studied a spot on the carpet. The phone was beside him on the mattress.
“Hey,” I said softly, hovering in the doorway.
He didn’t look at me. “Did you eat?”
“Yes. The girls loved it. They both had seconds.”
“And you?”
God, he was so caught up in this meal. Why was this so important right now?
Nathan looked over at me when I didn’t answer. “Jenna, please, if you didn’t eat yet—”
“I ate. It was delicious, Nathan.” I took a small step forward. “Can I come in?”
He nodded. His dark, serious eyes followed me as I took a seat beside him on the bed. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“It was probably the best spaghetti I’ve ever had. Didn’t even need those red pepper flakes.” I gave him a smile he didn’t return. “Thank you for making me dinner.”
“I’ve wanted to do it for a while…”
“I wish we could’ve enjoyed it together.” I placed my hand on his thigh, and when Nathan looked away and resumed staring at the carpet, I asked the question eating away at my mind. “Are you okay?”
Breath moved through his body, lifting his chest and shoulders. He shook his head.
“What can I do for you?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” When he didn’t give me an answer, I pulsed my hand on his leg. “Nathan…”
“No, I…I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
I flinched, involuntarily squeezing his thigh again before I pulled away.
“I’m sorry, Jenna,” he rushed out. “I know how that sounded. That’s not…I don’t mean—”