“I’m not sure I was capable of giving it to her. That took both of us.”
“You’d have figured it out.”
I shrugged. Only because Emme had been here. On my own, I was lost.
“It’s not like I know what I’m doing either, Nate. I never planned on having kids, either. I liked my life just fine.”
I didn’t want to talk about life before. I didn’t even want to think about it. “Do you want to feed her?” I asked Rachel, stifling a yawn.
“Sure.”
In the kitchen, I made a bottle and grabbed a burp cloth, then handed them both to Rachel, who was sitting on the couch. I sat adjacent to them on a chair and tried to stay awake.
“You look exhausted,” Rachel said.
“Because it’s fucking four AM and I haven’t slept at all.” I hadn’t meant to be a dick, but between the breakup with Emme and confronting my shortcomings as a father, my mood was shit.
“So she was up all night?”
“From about midnight on.” I yawned again.
“Where’s your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I snapped.
“Sorry,” she said. “You mentioned her name earlier. I thought she was here, that’s all.”
“She went home. After rescuing me yet again.” The words were out before I could stop them. My brain wasn’t functioning right on so little sleep.
“Rescuing you?”
I rubbed my face with both hands and dropped them into my lap. “I didn’t know where the thermometer was or how to use it. She did it for me.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you known her?”
“A few years.”
“Earlier, she sort of made it sound like you two were a thing.”
I frowned. “We were.”
“You broke up tonight?”
“Look, I don’t really want to talk about this, okay? It’s none of your business and doesn’t really matter anyway.”
“Okay, okay. Relax. Jeez.” She sat Paisley up to burp her. “I was only going to say she seemed nice.”
“She is.” And sweet and beautiful and sexy as fuck, and I was never going to hold her again. Had I even thanked her tonight? God, my level of assholery escalated with every passing minute.
“I didn’t figure you for the type to have a girlfriend.”
“I’m not.”
“Then again, I didn’t figure you for the type to be a good father either.”
I’m not, I wanted to say. I can’t do it. I don’t know why I thought I could.
“And you are,” she said.
“Thanks.” But I wasn’t. I was a fake.
“Are you okay, Nate?”
I closed my eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t even tell anymore.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just…overwhelmed. And I’m not handling things very well.”
“I understand.” She paused. “Why don’t I take Paisley home with me tonight?”
I didn’t have it in me to argue. “Fine.”
“This is really for the best,” she said five minutes later, buckling Paisley into her car seat. “You need sleep, and babies really need their mommies when they’re sick.”
“Right,” I said. My throat was tight.
“And we’ll see you on Monday at your office.”
“Right.”
“And then I’ll take her back to Battle Creek with me while you…figure things out. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I went down to the parking garage with her to switch the base of the car seat from my SUV to her car. Paisley was asleep by then, and I could hardly look at her as Rachel buckled her in.
“Get some sleep,” she said as she got behind the wheel. “We’ll see you Monday.”
I nodded, watched her drive away, and felt the weight of failure settle heavily on my shoulders.
I’d failed my daughter. I’d failed the only woman I’d ever loved. I’d failed myself.
But as I fell into bed a few minutes later, I told myself that they were both better off without me.
They were safe.
Nineteen
Emme
After leaving Nate’s the first time, I’d gone home, put on my pajamas and cried buckets into my pillow. I kept asking myself how over and over again.
How could he have done this to me? How could I have trusted him? How could he have fooled me so completely? How could I have been so dumb? How could he have said those things to me and not meant them? How could I have fallen in love with someone so duplicitous? Did I not have a single good instinct?
And why had he done this—what was the point? Had he only wanted my help with the baby all along? Had he only wanted to fuck me for a couple weeks? Had he honestly felt nothing for me all this time?
I didn’t want to believe that. But what choice did I have?
Eventually, I’d given up on sleep and gone down to the couch. I was channel surfing, attempting in vain to find something to take my mind off my broken heart, when I’d heard Nate talking in the hall. Unable to help myself, I’d gone to the door and pressed my ear to it.
When I heard him say something about the emergency room, I’d opened the door without even thinking about it.
Everything after that, I’d done for Paisley. Not for Nate.
I was so angry with him. He’d done exactly what he’d said he wouldn’t do—bullshit me. He’d pretended like he was better than all those other guys. He’d been good at it. He’d had me convinced I meant something to him.
He’d had me convinced we belonged together, and to each other. After everything he’d said to me, he turned out to be like everyone else. It hurt.
Maybe it had only been two weeks since we’d been dating, but we’d been friends for three years. He knew my insecurities, and it felt like he’d used them against me.
There was no excuse—not that he’d tried very hard to give me one.
I felt like such a fool.
After leaving his apartment the second time, I went home and collapsed into bed a second time. But I still couldn’t sleep. I was worried about Paisley, heartbroken about Nate, and angry with myself. I’d tried so hard to do things right this time! I’d been patient and understanding. Yes, it had been hard to keep my feelings in check, but it’s not like I could help that. Feelings weren’t something I could control. And it wasn’t as if I’d thrown myself at him and declared my undying love. I’d taken my cues from him and moved at his pace. It was Nate who’d come to me asking for a chance, Nate texting me to come over after work every night, Nate who’d said to me, I don’t deserve you.
Well, I didn’t deserve what he’d done to me—but it was hard not to feel like it was partly my fault.
After getting only a couple fitful hours of sleep, I didn’t feel like getting ready and going out for brunch the next morning. I texted my sisters that I wasn’t up for it, and they wanted to know what was wrong. I didn’t feel like going into the whole thing via text, so I called Stella.
“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked.
“Nate and I broke up last night.” I lay back on my pillow and pulled up the blankets. Fresh tears threatened.
She gasped. “Oh, no! Why?”
“He said he felt crowded and wanted space. He said he didn’t mean any of the things he’d said to me the night before.”
“What? That makes no sense.”
“I know, but it’s what happened and I’m upset, with myself and with him. I hardly slept last night.”
“Why don’t Maren and I come over with breakfast?”
“I’m not that hungry.”
“Bagels? Muffins? Doughnuts?”
“Whatever.” Even doughnuts held little appeal.
“I’ll pick up Maren and doughnuts and coffee. We should be there in about an hour.”
“Okay.” I hung up, and a few minutes later dragged myself into the bathroom for a shower. I turned the water on and while I waited for it to heat up, I made the mistake of looking in the mirror. My eyes, ringed beneath with dark circles, were bloodshot and dull. My eyelids puffy. My complexion sallow. I looked at my naked body and remembered how beautiful I’d felt in his arms, and wanted to cry all over again. Once I was in the shower, I let myself have one more good cry, and then I vowed to shed no more tears over Nate Pearson.