Page 167 of At First Catch

“You ate?” he asks.

“I waited.”

His eyes close briefly.

Guilt hits me hard because apparently even that upsets him now.

“Hads.”

“I know,” I say. “You got stuck working.”

This is becoming a pattern. Longer hours. Distracted silences. Phone calls he takes outside.

Nothing suspicious. Just… distance.

Nolan loosens his jacket while rain taps harder against the marina windows.

“I’m sorry.”

As his sincere words wash over me, the tight knot in my chest begins to loosen, leaving a quiet ache behind.

I stand from the couch and move toward him. The instinct to comfort him before addressing my own hurt is at the forefront.

I don’t even consider it anymore. My first instinct is always to make sure everyone else is okay before I ask myself the same question. At some point, it transitioned from feeling like a kind gesture to an ingrained habit. Bailey asked me once who was taking care of me. I laughed. Standing here now, watching the exhaustion etched into every line of Nolan’s face, I’m not sure I ever answered her.

“You okay?” I ask.

Nolan’s gaze drifts upward, meeting mine with a deliberate slowness. I see exhaustion deep enough to crack straight through his carefully controlled composure.

“I’m fine.”

The lie lands heavily between us.

For a second, I almost let him.

Almost smile.

Almost pretend everything feels normal because making other people comfortable has always come more naturally to me than asking them to sit inside my hurt.

But if I do that now...

We’ll both keep pretending.

I step closer anyway, fingers brushing lightly against the front of his rain-damp shirt.

“You don’t have to do that with me.”

His brows pull together.

“Do what?”

“Pretend you’re not overwhelmed.”

Nolan looks at me carefully enough that my stomach tightens.

“I’m handling it.”

Distance disguised as reassurance.