The words slipped under my skin, quiet but weighted, and I hated how my pulse quickened at the sincerity in his tone. I tightened my grip on the bottle, staring straight ahead.
“Practice doesn’t lie,” I said, keeping my voice light, though my throat felt tight. “That’s the difference between being good and being great.”
He chuckled softly, the sound warm but edged. “Always so stubborn.”
I glanced at him then, just for a second, and immediately regretted it. His eyes held mine, steady, unguarded, and too much
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I muttered.
Nathan’s lips curved. “Depends who it’s directed at.”
My chest tightened, the air suddenly too heavy. I kept walking, my sneakers scuffing against the pavement, but I could feel him at my back, steady and relentless, just like always.
“I overheard you,” I said quietly, glancing at him as we moved. “You’re going on vacation…with Sadie, I'm guessing?”
Nathan froze mid-step. He turned toward me, eyes locking onto mine, dark and steady. “No,” he said confidently, voice lowbut unwavering. “I haven’t seen Sadie since the night you and I had dinner.”
I narrowed my eyes, letting a hint of doubt slip in. “Really? Because I’ve seen her around the building a few times since we broke up.”
“The lobby is as far as she gets,” he interrupted smoothly, stepping closer so that the space between us felt private. “Security knows not to let her up. You’re the only woman who gets access to me. Do you hear me? I don’t care about other women. It’s only you. It’s you or no one else.”
I blinked, the words sinking in. He wasn’t bragging. He was certain. Protective. Like I’d always been the only one who mattered, and somehow, that was both reassuring and terrifying.
“But you will be out of town.”
“Yes,” he admitted, firmly. “I leave tomorrow for Vegas.”
I hesitated, suddenly piecing things together. The timing. The destination.
It was the first stop of my tour.
My stomach twisted with a mixture of disbelief and hope. He wasn’t just leaving town. He was leaving the same time I was. Going to the same place I was going.
“You can’t.” I shook my head.
“If you thought I’d let you get on a plane without me fixing us first, then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” Nathan declared.
“There is no us. Not anymore,” I said, my voice firm, wishing he’d just accept it already.
“You’re wrong, Cupcake. There will always be an us. You’re mine.” Nathan argued.
“You lost the right to call me that after everything.”
“I fucked up, I know that.” Nathan’s tone was dangerously soft unlike the icy look in his eyes because of my words. “Butthere isn’t a version of this where you don’t come back to me. It may take weeks, months or years, but I will earn back your trust and your love.” Nathan stepped forward and I fought the urge to step back.
“Nathan,” My voice wavered, but I forced steel into it. “You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to stand here and tell me how this ends. You lost that right the moment you made me doubt us.”
His jaw clenched, a flicker of pain flashing across his face before he masked it. “I'm a patient man when it comes to you, Elise.” He leaned slightly, just enough that his voice dropped to a whisper against my ear. “Take care of yourself tonight. Hot shower, feet up. I need you to rest.” He brushed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you in Vegas tomorrow.” Nathan told me before walking off.
His words sent a shiver down my spine, comforting and disorienting all at once.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady the sudden flutter in my chest. My hands still gripped the water bottle, and for a moment I felt unbalanced, like the floor had shifted beneath me.
I wanted to pull away, to remind myself that we weren’t an “us” anymore, that I couldn’t just surrender to the pull he still had over me. And yet, there was something in the gentleness of his voice, and the subtle warmth of his proximity, that made the ache of missing him twist sharper.
I wanted to be rational, to think about the tour, the rehearsals, the thousands of eyes that would be on me starting tomorrow night, but a small, insistent part of me couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have him there, following me, watching over me at every stop.
And that thought made my chest tighten in ways I couldn’t quite name.
