“Tempting, but no.” I admitted. “But if you did the dunk tank, I could possibly be persuaded.”
“Nice try. It’s still not happening.”
I pretended to be disappointed. “Damn it.”
“If you want to see me in a wet T-shirt, Cupcake, all you have to do is ask.”
“That is not the case,” I argued, heat creeping up the back of my neck. “Cupcake?” My brows furrowed at the unexpected nickname.
Nathan’s cheeks tinted the most adorable shade of pink. “You’re just as sweet as your new friend here.” He motioned to my stuffed dessert.
Now, it was my turn to feel the burn of embarrassment.
“Thanks… I think.”
“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” Nathan said after a moment.
“I know this might sound silly, but I didn’t get to do things like this growing up. My parents thought festivals and amusement parks were a waste of time and money. Even school field trips were off-limits most of the time. They said it wasn’t worth the expense.”
Nathan glanced at me, brows pinched slightly like he was seeing me in a new light. I kept my eyes on the path ahead, trying not to shrink under the weight of my own words.
“Growing up in Florida, I’ve always dreamed of going to Disney World,” I admitted. “I know it’s childish, but I just wanted to know what it's like to feel that kind of magic, you know? Even just once.”
There was a long pause before he said anything. When I finally dared to peek up at him, his expression was unreadable.
“I’ve been,” he said softly, then shrugged. “It’s a blur. Lines, overpriced snacks, and a heatwave. You’re not missing as much as you think.”
I smiled at that, grateful he downplayed the whole thing for my sake, even if I didn’t believe him. “Still sounds like a dream.”
Nathan tucked his hands in his pockets. “I know you think I don’t know how to have fun.” He began.
“Oh no,” I deadpanned, my tone dry. “I definitely don’t think that.”
He gave me a rare smirk, but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just feel guilty when I do.”
The quiet between us shifted to something deeper, weightier, forcing me to stop walking.
Nathan glanced at me and then looked out at the crowd. “I was at a sleepover the night my mother...” His jaw hardened, unable to finish the sentence. “I was laughing with my friends while she was taking her last breath. I was goofing around while the woman who raised me was dying—terrified, in pain, and completely alone.”
My heart split in two.
“I think about that a lot,” he murmured. “About the timing. About the fact that the last night of her life was—at the time—the best night of mine for a long time. And how that never stopped feeling backwards.”
A silence settled between us. It was thick but not uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to say at first. Nothing could fix something like that. Nothing should try to.
So I did the only thing that felt right.
I reached out, slipping my hand into his, just enough for him to feel that he wasn’t alone in that memory anymore.
“I’m really sorry that you have to carry that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “That it happened at all.”
Nathan didn’t speak, just stared ahead with his thumb brushing over mine slowly, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
“I don’t think she would’ve blamed you,” I added quietly. “And I don’t think she would’ve wanted you to carry that kind of guilt with you for the rest of your life.”
His jaw flexed, but he gave a small nod. Not a full agreement, but maybe the start of one. And for a moment, that was enough.
We stayed like that, with his thumb brushing against mine, our silence no longer heavy but full. Full of things we didn’t need to say out loud just yet.
