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“Why not tell him yet?”
“I don’t know.”
“A-Ying—”
“I don’t know how he’ll react,” I blurt out in frustration. “I’m scared that he’ll want nothing to do with me or the baby. I’m scared he’ll tell me to get rid—” A cough forces itself from my dry throat. “I’m scared,” I admit quietly.
She pats me on the back of my hand. “Nate is good man. Very good man.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“A-Ying, he pay for everything.”
I frown, confused. “I can’t force him to stay and support the child if he doesn’t want to.”
A-Ma clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “Aiyah, no. Hospital bill. He pay for everything. Perfect example. That’s how I know Nate a good man.”
A chill rushes through my body, starting at the top of my head and sinking all the way down to my toes.
“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“He said you mad at him.”
“I’m—” My head’s throbbing, the rush of blood past my ears loud I can’t string my thoughts together. “He said that?”
“What happen, A-Ying, ah? Tell me. When you start keeping secret from me?”
I want nothing more than to pass out from exhaustion. The pressure that’s been building up in my chest threatens to crack my ribs and pierce my lungs with the remaining shards of bone. A-Ma continues to look at me with nothing but love and concern. I can’t hold it back anymore.
I tell her absolutely everything.
The relief is immediate.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nate
I don’t think I can really call this an airport. It’s a rundown runway with a shabby rectangular prism for a hangar just off to the side. When I first arrived in Haven, I didn’t give the place too hard of a look. There’s nothing to see. The biggest attractions at this sad excuse of an airport are probably the snack and soda vending machines that look like they’ve been in service since the late seventies. Some of the buttons are missing, covered over with yellowing masking tape and scribbled over with black marker.
I’m three hours early for the flight back to New York. It’s going to take less than an hour to get back to the Big Apple. I’m not a nervous flyer, but my nerves are definitely shot. My knee won’t stop bouncing. I can’t stop picking under my fingernails. I’ve been clenching and unclenching my jaw so much that my teeth ache.
Pops was the one who dropped me off at the airport. I was relieved to find Mother hadn’t come with him to say goodbye. After everything that’s happened, I don’t know if I can stand to be in the same room as her. Everything’s still so raw. I’m sure I’ll eventually grow numb to it. The anger will fade, leaving nothing but bitter disappointment and distance. The actual physical distance will help things too.
I’ll send a card or something for Christmas.
My phone sits on my lap, the screen dark. I attempted to message Eve several more times since the hospital. To see how she’s doing.
No answer. Radio silence.
It gnaws at my insides. It wrenches at my heart. Leaves a sticky lump at the base of my throat that won’t go away. I’ve never been ghosted before. Not like this. I’m normally the one doing the ghosting, trying to drive home the concept of a one-night stand to overly keen lady friends.
The lack of response is loud and clear.
Eve and I, we’re done. She wants nothing to do with me.
I have to respect that.
I’m not about to turn into some possessive asshole who can’t take no for an answer. I’ve got more honor than that. It’s killing me that I have to leave things between us like this, but there aren’t any other options.
I’m numb. I can’t describe it any other way. I just feel numb and vacant and like everything’s moving forward without me. All I can do is sit here in this little airport and wait for my flight to arrive.
There’s something eerie about this situation, one that brings back bitter memories of when Mother sent me away after Jacob’s death. Not even a day after the funeral, Mother informed me that I’d be on the first flight to New York to live with Aunt Lydia.
I was confused. Hurt. Scared.
I couldn’t understand why she was sending me away. I got it in my head that she hated me. It’s my fault, after all. Jacob isn’t here, so why should I be? Maybe having me around would’ve served as a painful reminder for her. Sometimes it’s easier to send one’s problems away rather than deal with them head-on.
It’s the coward’s way, but it’s effective.
Right up until it isn’t.
I don’t feel like I’m running away. I want nothing more than to stay, to maybe work things out. Just the chance to talk to Eve would make my world.
