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Worst of all, I had disappointed my father. My sweet dad, who had taught me how to ride a bike, who had taken me out on father-daughter dates when I was little, who had come to every school assembly and violin recital and who had pinned every one of my crayon scribbles up on his office wall in a place of honor like it was fine art.
I couldn’t tell him who the father was. It would break his heart.
“Don’t worry,” I said, stifling sobs, trying to look composed again, but probably failing miserably. “It’s fine, I’m fine. I’ll figure everything out on my own. Thanks for visiting me. I have to get back to work.”
“Amelia, wait–”
I heard him call my name as I was running through the glass doors, but I didn’t look back. Making my way down the corridor to the parking garage, I raced to my car and buckled in, driving home with my eyes full of tears and my heart in pieces.
Chapter 24
Nathaniel
Spending an hour and a half on the elliptical after work was just about the only thing that blunted the uneasy feeling I had about Amelia. I threw myself into working up a sweat, testing my endurance, letting the heavy, rhythmic glide of the pedals drown out my agitated thoughts.
Easier said than done.
Earlier in the week, I kept hoping she was just busy. Then when she hadn’t returned my calls or texts during the past twenty-four hours, the stress kicked into high gear.
Beyond wondering if she was having second thoughts about us, I started to simply worry whether or not she was OK. Was she sick? Did something happen to her phone? Would she ever get back to me, or was I being ghosted by the one woman I had come to care deeply about?
My quads were feeling the burn of the elliptical after ninety-five minutes when my phone rang loudly. I had kept the ringer on instead of turning it to silent like I usually did in case Amelia called. Anxious to answer, I picked it up and looked at the screen.
I hadn’t expected David’s number to appear.
Huffing, I stopped the machine, stepped off the pedals and took the call, beads of sweat dripping all down my body as I walked outside to answer.
“David,” I said, panting. “Just catching my breath… at the gym… what’s up?”
There was silence for a moment, and I couldn’t tell if David was distracted, the connection was cutting out, or if he was hesitating.
“Nathaniel, I… I don’t even know. It’s just so…”
Something was very wrong. I had known David for many years now, but I had never heard him this distraught and out of sorts. He was a confident, secure man who was rarely at a loss for words, always putting people at ease, knowing the right thing to say in any situation.
“David, are you OK?”
More silence. Finally, he simply said, “No.”
“Where are you? Do you need help, are you injured?”
“I’m fine, I’m… I’m at home. Nate, can you come by? For a drink. I need someone to talk to. Please.”
A thread of terror pulled tight inside me, suddenly paranoid that David had found out about Amelia and me.
He was my oldest friend. My mentor and my confidante. He had been there for me when I was at my lowest.
“I’ll be right there.”
– – –
I pulled into the circular driveway at David’s house around nine o'clock, tense but determined to help my friend.
When he greeted me at the door, he looked terrible. His face was pale, and his eyes were glassy, his hair was a mess, and his typically sharp, clean-cut attire was disheveled. He wore his usual Rolex and chinos, but he was barefoot, with his polo shirt half untucked and the collar stretched.
David said nothing as he opened the door and backed up so I could come into the house. He barely made eye contact.
I followed him to the den where he motioned to the sofa. He walked over to a bar cart and picked up a heavy, cut crystal decanter, pouring two stiff whiskeys in glasses I had bought him and Colleen for their twentieth wedding anniversary.
