Chapter 52

Olivia

I was reading on the porch when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. When I looked up, I saw the familiar figure of Nathan walking up the driveway. He had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders were slumped, and as he looked at me I could see a tinge of sadness in his eyes.

“Hey,” I said, snapping my book shut. “Everything alright?”

Nathan said nothing for a moment, his blue-green eyes searching my face before he nodded in the direction of the little strip of beach behind the villa.

“Olivia,” he murmured, his voice sounding weary. “Walk with me.”

A little part of me wanted to refuse the offer after our last argument was still left unreconciled, but it pained me to see my friend like this. “Sure,” I said quietly, nodding.

Nathan’s expression seemed to soften a bit. I set my book down and offered him a gentle smile as I walked down the steps to join him. We made our way around the house, to the little stretch of beach that laid at the back of the property.

As we stepped out onto the sand, I walked alongside Nathan, feeling the uncomfortable tension that lingered after our last argument.

As we approached the edge of the water where the ocean was ebbing and flowing and the sand was packed down smoothly from the water, the wind whipped through the air.

It was colder than I had anticipated, and I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my thin sweater closer to ward off the chill.

I couldn't help but shiver, both from the cold and the strain between us.

Suddenly, Nathan took off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders without a moment of hesitation on his part. “Here,” he said quietly, his tall form towering over me as he tugged the jacket closer around my shoulders. “Better?”

I hesitated for a moment, feeling the warmth of his jacket enveloping me. It was a small gesture, but it softened me ever so slightly. Maybe there was still hope for us to bridge the growing divide.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my cheeks flushing red.

As we continued walking along the beach, the crashing waves providing a soothing soundtrack, Nathan seemed distant and preoccupied with his thoughts.

I yearned for a connection, a moment of understanding between us, to break through the icy wall that had formed.

Searching for a way to reach him, I bent down and picked up a delicate sand dollar, reminiscing about our childhood adventures of collecting these treasures.

“Look,” I said, a wistful smile gracing my lips. “Remember when we were kids and used to collect these?”

I extended my hand, offering the sand dollar to Nathan.

“A sand dollar.” Nathan’s eyes lit up slightly as he looked down at the round little disc with its almost floral holes in my hand.

“Here.” I held it out a little more and offered a smile along with it.

After a few moments of hesitation he took it tentatively. I watched with anticipation as he gazed wistfully at it for a few long moments before he let out a heavy sigh.

It was as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. He carefully slipped the sand dollar into his pocket, a faint smile gracing his face.

“I do remember,” he said quietly, his voice mixing with the sound of the waves rolling up on the beach. “I miss those days. Things were simpler.”

I was a bit taken aback by Nathan’s statement. “Did everything go okay at the Council meeting tonight?” I asked.

“It was fine.” Nathan’s voice was terse, like he wasn’t telling me the truth.

I wanted to prod him to tell me more, but my breath suddenly caught in my throat as he took a staggering step toward me in the sand, and our bodies grew closer.

In that fleeting moment, I thought he was going to lean in for a kiss. My heart skipped a beat, unsure as to whether I wanted him to kiss me or whether I wanted to push him away.

My body seemed to autonomously make that decision for me, and I found myself leaning toward him a little, feeling the weight and the warmth of his jacket wrapped around me.

But just as I leaned in, he abruptly pulled back. His expression changed, a mix of disappointment and resignation coming across his features.

“There are no cameras around,” I heard myself say, my voice tinged with regret. “We don’t need to put on an act now.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. I instantly regretted my words, realizing how they must have wounded Nathan, and how they were nothing more than a defense mechanism on my part, a way to rationalize our strange relationship and distance myself once again.

“You’re right.” His voice was tense. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

“Wanna keep walking?” I asked, nodding my head down the stretch of beach.

He nodded silently and continued walking, the space between us feeling more vast than ever.

The silence became deafening, hanging heavy in the air as unspoken words lingered between us. I would have gone mad if it weren’t for the sound of the waves filling my ears as they ebbed and flowed.

Part of me still wanted to reach out to my childhood friend, to bridge the growing chasm, but fear and doubt held me back.

Suddenly, Nathan broke the silence with a question that caught me off guard.

“Do you hope the baby is a boy or a girl?”

His voice carried a hint of vulnerability, a desire to be part of something he had no claim to.

I blinked in surprise, processing his words. The unexpected nature of the question left me momentarily speechless. Why did he care? After all, he wasn't the father. The truth hung heavy on my heart, but I couldn't bring myself to voice it.

“Why does it matter to you?” I replied, my voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and guardedness. “It’s not your baby.”

Once again, I instantly felt regret for what I said. Why the hell did I say that? I thought to myself. It was cruel and unnecessary, and I felt my heart twinge in response to the harsh words that slipped out of my stupid mouth.

“I-I didn’t mean that,” I began, my voice shaking slightly, but it was too late.

For a moment, hurt flickered in Nathan's eyes. My response had clearly struck a nerve, which was only made worse by our last argument over going to my first maternity appointment without him.

“Nathan, I—”

“It’s fine.”

His voice was low and cold as he spoke, taking a couple of steps back. His hurt expression quickly turned into a mask of resignation, and without another word, he turned and walked back towards the house.

I was left standing there, filled with regret over the callous words that slipped out of my mouth.

I watched his tall form retreat, a knot forming in my chest. The rift between us had deepened, and I was left grappling with the weight of unspoken truths and unanswered questions.

Only this time, the rift was caused by my own actions and my inability to control my words during a moment of simple surprise.

The wind howled, echoing the turmoil in my heart as I stood there alone on the beach.