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“I found her online with the express purpose of taking her to Mae’s wedding as my date, merely to keep you lot from finding one for me.”
Silence stretched to the outer reaches of the big room, broken only by the click and whir of the old wooden train set, whose batteries were winding down.
“I don’t understand,” said his mother.
“It was fake,” Faith said, as if trying to make sense of it herself. “The relationship. The affection. The attraction. All of it.”
Not all of it, no. But he knew them well enough to know any flicker of hope would be fanned into a flame. So he chose his words carefully.
“We made a deal that was mutually beneficial to us both.”
“Good God, you paid her?” Faith asked, incredulous.
“Don’t say it like that,” he bit out, turning on Faith so fiercely her eyes bugged out of her head. He reined himself in a notch. “Don’t even think it. The details of our agreement are none of anybody’s business but our own. But, since we involved you in the ruse, it’s fair that you know the only reason she went along with it as long as she did was because she had this crazy compulsion that I needed her help.”
“If anyone needs help it’s you, brother.” That was Hope.
Nate puffed a laugh from his nose, grateful she was in the room. Grateful they all were, to tell the truth, and that he could finally say what he had to say. And by the way they were listening they would know he meant it.
“I wasn’t thinking anything bad about her, Nate,” Faith said, drawing his eye. “I’ve met her, remember? She’s way too cool for you. But I am flabbergasted that my darling, dashing big brother actually thinks any woman would need an inducement to be with him.”
God, was that a tear? He couldn’t take tears.
“Faith, you’ve missed the point. I went miles out of my bloody way to find a woman to not be with me.”
That met with silence.
“I don’t want marriage. I don’t want a partner.” His hand was running up the back of his hair before he could stop himself. “I want to date who I want and when I want; without you all—or anyone, in fact—expecting it might one day lead to me settling down. It’s just never going to happen.”
“Why?” his mother asked, rising now to take his hand, to look into his eyes. “The truth. All of it.”
Jasmine had one of her boys, was hugging him tight, as if telling herself her own son would never feel that way. Faith watched, tears at the corners of her eyes. Hope breathed evenly, smiled softly and simply waited, as if she’d been waiting for the truth—all of it—all her life.
“I was there,” Nate said. “After Dad died. Missing him, mourning him. I still think about him every day.” He fisted a hand in the front of his sweater. “But I don’t ever want to feel that much need and hurt and empathy and rage and love and fear again.”
Hope slid gracefully to her feet and came over and gave him a hug. Then punched him hard enough on the arm to hurt. “We know. We watched in dazed amazement how our little big brother handled himself. You were the glue and we may have overused you. For that I apologise. Profusely.”
She looked to the others, who all nodded with her.
“But, for the record, while you’re stuck with us—interfering, emotional and fabulous as we are—finding that one person out there in the big wide world who you choose to be with...well, that’s something else entirely. Love is scary and magical and bittersweet and special and hard and wonderful and the best thing that can ever happen to you in life.”
He looked around at his sisters—all strong women. All nodding. All of whom had come out the other side, able to throw their hearts into the ring. All hopeful he might still.
And even while he ought to have been setting up a whiteboard, with graphs and charts and a loud hailer to explain how and why it was different for him...all he could think of was Saskia.
Saskia, whom he’d chosen to be in his life, even if only for a finite time. Saskia, who pushed him and challenged him and laughed with him, made room for him. Saskia, who made him feel light and funny and free. Saskia who made him feel.
Bittersweet didn’t even begin to describe the pleasure and the pain. The pleasure of knowing her. The pain of losing her.
Hell.
“I have to go,” he said, his voice raw.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Faith as she gathered up the remote.
Hope shot him a wink before sliding down onto the floor to play train smash with the boys. And Jasmine, relieved of duty, leant back against her wall and closed her eyes.
