Chapter 142

Olivia

The morning sun cast a muted golden glow through the living room windows. It was one of those quiet, early mornings where the silence was so profound that you could hear your own heartbeat.

As I descended the stairs, the house was quiet as usual. It had been that way for weeks, ever since Maria’s death. I still couldn’t get the image of Jenifer and Colin out of my mind, nor could I get the guilt out of my chest over not telling Nathan.

But I still couldn’t bring myself to tell him. It wasn’t as though we talked much, anyway. He spent his days in his room or outside wandering along the beach, clearly lost in trains of thought that I didn’t want to disturb.

And now that we discovered that Alvin had left the pack entirely, I felt even less inclined to talk about what I saw. Not yet, at least.

Last night, after I cried into Nathan’s shoulder, we slowly went inside and made dinner. It was a ritual for us at this point; chopping the vegetables, clicking on the stove, drizzling olive oil onto a pan; they were all necessary movements. They made us forget.

For those brief hours we spent together, things felt almost… normal. I think he needed that. Maybe I did, too.

I yawned as I made my way into the kitchen, where I started up the coffee machine and stretched a bit. So far, the pregnancy was finally beginning to take a toll on my body. I was almost halfway through the pregnancy by now, and it was really beginning to show by now.

My belly had a pronounced roundness to it, so much so that people who didn’t know me were beginning to notice and ask for my due date out in public. I often felt stiff and sore in the mornings, too.

Soon, I thought to myself that I would have to get one of those special pregnancy pillows. I would need some maternity clothes soon, as well.

But for some reason, I supposed that I wasn’t quite ready to take that step just yet. This baby was a welcome surprise in my life, but it was also a testament to the end of my young adulthood. In just a few short months, I would be a mother.

And my baby would not have a biological father. I was still grappling with the weight of that in the back of my mind at all times. Was I really prepared to raise this baby all on my own?

Just then, I heard the sound of a noise coming from the living room that broke me out of my deep train of thought. A soft snore. Halting my stretching, I tiptoed around the corner and peered in.

My gaze fell on Nathan, who was sprawled out on the couch in a deep sleep.

His strong jaw was slackened, dark hair tousled messily across his forehead. There was a vulnerable innocence about him as he slept—a contrast to the hard, determined man I had grown to know over the past few months.

Moving quietly, I fetched a blanket from the linen closet, intending to cover him.

But as I leaned over to drape the blanket gently over Nathan, his hand suddenly shot out. He seized my wrist in a firm, unyielding grip. The sudden movement and his grasp took me entirely off guard, causing my heart to race.

Before I could even process the situation or utter a word, I found myself being pulled down by his forceful tug, causing me to tumble onto the couch next to him with the breath knocked out of me.

“Nathan!” I began with a hiss, but he silenced me with a look, those deep blue-green eyes of his filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

There was no aggression in his grip, only an urgency, a deep-seated need.

The proximity was startling. The last time Nathan and I had been this close was what felt like ages ago, that fateful night when lines had been crossed and boundaries blurred.

Since then, we had maintained a careful distance, tiptoeing around the tangible tension that seemed to crackle like electricity between us.

Now, with his arm pulling me closer and his face inches from mine, the memories of that night came flooding back.

A mix of surprise, confusion, and an undeniable surge of warmth flooded my senses. Our noses almost touched, his ragged breath mingling with mine. My heart thudded loudly in my ears, drowning out any coherent thought.

“Nathan?” My voice was barely a whisper, my throat dry. I tried to meet his gaze, searching for an explanation in his eyes, but he avoided it, burying his face into the crook of my neck instead.

His embrace was desperate, almost pleading, and though my initial shock made me tense, his palpable vulnerability slowly melted my resistance.

As his grip around my waist tightened, it became clear that he wasn’t looking for intimacy in the way I initially feared. Instead, he seemed to be seeking solace, comfort— two firm anchors in a turbulent sea of emotions.

I took a deep breath, my initial shock now replaced with a gentle understanding.

His body trembled ever so slightly against mine, and that small revelation coaxed my arms to wrap around him, offering him the comfort he so desperately seemed to need. The weight of our shared past, mingled with unspoken feelings and buried emotions, settled heavily between us as we succumbed to the pull of slumber.

…

When I awoke, the afternoon sun had shifted, casting long shadows across the living room. The comforting weight of Nathan’s arm was gone. Startled, I sat up, my eyes darting around the room.

“Nathan?” I called out, but there was no answer. A strange sense of unease settled in my stomach. I quickly checked the rest of the house, but he was nowhere to be found.

My texts and calls were left unanswered. He had left no note, no warning sign of his leaving. Normally, I wouldn’t have been overly concerned, but with everything going on recently…

His absence pressed down on me like a heavy weight. I found myself glancing at the door every few minutes, hoping to see him stride in, but as the day faded into night, and night turned to dawn, there was still no sign of him.

Worry gnawed at my insides. It wasn’t like Nathan to disappear like this, especially not after such a vulnerable moment between us. Every possible scenario played out in my mind. Had he gone to look for Alvin? Had he picked up on some clues surrounding his mother’s death?

Or perhaps some darker trouble had befallen him?

The second morning dawned, just as quiet and golden as the previous one.

I was in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee, the dark circles under my eyes a testament to my sleepless night, with a decision hanging heavily in my heart that I would have to go to the police station and report him missing if he didn’t return soon.

That was when I heard the front door creak open.

I rushed to the hallway, my heart leaping into my throat.

There he was.

“N-Nathan…?” I murmured. My eyes widened in shock, taking in his disheveled state. “What happened?”

No response. He looked worse for wear. His face was haggard, dark circles underlining his eyes which looked like they hadn’t seen sleep since… Well, since I last saw him.

His shoulders, usually so upright and confident, now seemed to droop with an invisible weight. Even as he stood there, his hand resting on the doorknob, he seemed almost ready to collapse. His hands were shaking.

But it wasn’t just the exhaustion on his face that startled me. It was the pain in his eyes, the anger, the frustration. Something had happened while he was gone, and whatever it was was gnawing at him now as he stood in front of me.

However, my recognition of his mental state faded, replaced by concern for his physical state above all else. He seemed ready to collapse, and swayed slightly back and forth as he stood there. Instinctively, I rushed forward and caught him in my arms before that could happen.

“Nathan!”