Chapter 11
D
“You’re right, Sophia,” he said gently when I finally paused to catch my breath. “You didn’t deserve that. Not any of it.” His voice was steady, low, and comforting, like a warm blanket on a freezing night. It was enough to loosen the tight knot in my chest, and I felt myself slowly sinking onto the seat, my shoulders slumping in exhaustion.
For a moment, there was only the sound of my ragged breathing, the car bathed in a thick silence. I stared at the road, the daycare now visible in the distance, twisting my fingers together as the flood of emotions ebbed away, leaving me feeling hollow and uncertain.
“I just don’t know anymore, Nathaniel,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I knew what love was supposed to be. But now…” I trailed off, shaking my head.
Nathaniel waited, giving me space, his presence a silent reassurance. When I finally lifted my gaze to meet him, he smiled–a soft, understanding smile that made my chest ache with something I couldn’t quite name. He leaned back, raking a hand through his dark hair before speaking.
“Sophia,” he began, his tone more serious now, his words measured and deliberate, “if you don’t mind me saying this… I think you deserve
better.”
I blinked at him, startled. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “You deserve someone who makes you feel like the center of their world. Someone who won’t make excuses, who won’t drag someone else into your relationship and then expect you to just… accept it. You deserve someone who respects you enough to be honest, who cherishes you for who you are.”
He paused, taking a deep breath before adding, “And if you’re open to it, I’d like to be that someone for real–even if it means playing the fake lover in your open marriage. What do you say?”
My breath caught, and I stared at him, my mind reeling. “Nathaniel… what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” he said, his voice steady but his expression tinged with vulnerability, “that I want to be with you, Sophia. For real. I don’t want to just be the guy you vent to or the friend who listens from the sidelines. I want to show you what it’s like to be truly loved and valued. But only if that’s something you want too.”
I couldn’t speak. The words hung in the air between us, heavy and full of meaning.
My breath caught. I looked away, staring at my hands, at the faint imprints of my nails digging into my palms. The offer–the promise–was tempting. Nathaniel was a kind man, someone who didn’t like seeing others in trouble.
Part of me wanted to say yes, to feel wanted in a way I hadn’t in so long.
But another part of me—the part that still held onto the love I had given so freely for twelve years–couldn’t do it. Not yet.
I inhaled sharply, forcing my voice to be steady. “Nathaniel… I appreciate you saying that. I really do.” I swallowed, searching for the right words, for something that wouldn’t hurt him but still conveyed what I felt. “But I still care about him. I know it’s stupid. I know I should hate him after everything that happened. But I can’t just turn off twelve years of love like a switch. And right now… I’m not ready for anything else. I just−1 need time.”
The silence this time was heavier. I could feel his gaze on me, but I didn’t look back. If I did, I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength to walk away. Before he could say anything–before he could try to convince me otherwise–I reached for the door handle, pushing it open.
“Thank you, Nathaniel,” 1 murmured, stepping out of the car. “I’ll…see you around.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I couldn’t. I shut the door behind me and walked away, my heart hammering against my ribs, my eyes stinging. And even though I told myself this was the right call, that I was doing what I needed to, a part of me still ached at the sound of his car idling behind me–at the words left unspoken.
