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Nate invited me over for dinner and I wouldn’t miss this chance for the world. My daughter has been actively avoiding me, and that’s part of why I’ve been on edge lately.
Their house is spacious, but not cathedral-level like Kingsley’s. It has Gwen’s touch with the endless colorful flower beds in the garden. There are also cozy-looking chairs in the front yard that I can imagine her and Nate sitting in on peaceful evenings.
Despite his fortune, Nate always lived in an apartment and only used it to sleep. He’s as much of a workaholic as I am, with no personal life to speak of.
Or he used to be, anyway.
Now, he habitually leaves early, has strict boundaries on his personal time, and has taken more vacations in the last few months than in his whole life. And the most endearing part is that all his personal time is dedicated to hiking and traveling with Gwen.
I would’ve never imagined that Nate would change into this family man, and it feels a bit lonely since I always thought we shared the same mindset.
Not that I’m jealous or anything. I’m not.
The door opens before I push the bell and I swallow as Gwen appears in the entrance.
She’s wearing comfy-looking shorts and a matching T-shirt that has “Vanilla is The New Kink” written on it. Her hair is gathered in a messy bun and some flour dusts her cheek.
“Hey,” I say, feeling more nervous than I’ve ever been before.
Apparently, I’m confident in everything, except when it comes to my daughter.
And her father.
No. Stop thinking about him.
“Nate invited me over,” I say when she remains silent, then I give her a box of cake. “I made a vanilla cake. The easiest. I burned the first three, but this one survived—although barely. I used to eat these from a stand on the side of our street. There was this middle-aged lady who gave us some for free. Us, as in, me and Caroline. Mostly Callie because she made friends with the food people so they would give her any leftovers, then she shared them with me. I preferred to starve than beg for food…” I wince, realizing I’ve been talking for too long. “Sorry for blabbering.”
“Now I know who I got my love for vanilla from. And some blabbering habits, too.” Gwen takes the cake from my hand with a small smile. “Are you going to stand there all night long? Come in.”
I follow behind her and she leads me to the dining room, where the table is already set for three people. Nate sits at the head, looking relaxed in his khaki pants and polo shirt. “Aspen.”
“Nate,” I greet back.
Gwen pulls back my chair and I take the cue to sit down.
“Did you know I was coming?” I ask, staring between her and her husband.
“Of course. Nate already told me.”
“Oh.” That’s much better than taking her off guard, and at least she doesn’t oppose the idea of me coming over to her house.
“I’m going to change real quick,” she tells us, then disappears around the corner.
Nate’s attentive gaze follows her until she’s out of view and remains there for a second too long. I’m glad the brute Kingsley isn’t here or he would’ve started a drama. Though I do understand that an overprotective father like him finds it hard not to think of her as a little girl.
I can’t imagine what he must’ve felt like when he first found out that his best friend married his “angel,” as he calls her.
But then again, even Kingsley’s brutishness could see how much Nate adores the ground Gwen walks on.
Nothing could’ve stopped Nate from marrying Gwen. Not even her father.
“She spent the whole afternoon cooking, baking, and hiding alcohol because she knows you’ve stopped drinking,” he says, finally looking at me. “I offered to help, but she completely refused it.”
My heart squeezes. “Now I feel bad for the cake that’s probably not edible.”
“Believe me, she’ll eat it even if she has to drink a gallon of milkshake with it.”
I smile. “Thank you, Nate.”
