Page 97 of Selfie
I make my way to the sitting area and slump down on the far end of the sofa. I expect Nathan to sit in the singular chair across from me on the other side of the coffee table. It’s better for eye contact. But he does no such thing. He sits right next to me and spreads his legs into a wide V so our knees are almost touching.
“I got your resignation.” Wasting no time at all, he addresses the elephant in the room. Pointing to the wastebasket under his desk, he adds, “I filed it appropriately.”
I flash him a sideways glance. “Did you print out my email, just so you could make a scene in front of me?”
“That’s why I can’t let you quit. You already know me so well.” He smirks. “I meant to rip it up in front of you, but it was sitting on my desk and looking at it pissed me off. I tore it into confetti pieces.”
“Real mature.”
“So is running away.” Leaning forward, he rests his elbows against his knees and audibly exhales. “You’re under a very peculiar contract for exactly this reason. Have you thought about the consequences of leaving? Giving up the car? Forfeiting your advance? Reimbursing the company for your subsidized rent?”
“Yes, I have. I can handle it.”
“And what about me?” He turns his head, meeting me with a weary expression. “Have you thought about me at all?”
All I do is think about you. That’s part of the problem.But of course I can’t say that. I put myself out there once, I won’t do it again. Nathan wants a pet, not a relationship. I’m such easy prey. I need his help. I want his affection. I’m wrapped up so tight in his web. That’s why I need to get away. To get my head straight.
“Do you know how many people would kill for this job?” I remind him. “You’ll recover.”
“I don’t want people. I want you.”
“Nathan, you don’t know how to want me properly. You just know how to play games.”
He’s quiet for a beat. I stare out of the window at the Las Vegas skyline. I can’t see the Strip from here, just blue sky and red earth. The side of Las Vegas most people forget exists.
“I don’t apologize easily,” he confesses, cutting the silence. “Another character flaw of mine? I hate to admit when I’m wrong. But all I do around you is say I’m sorry. And yes,I was wrong.I apologize for letting my emotions get the best of me earlier this week. I said things I didn’t mean. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want secrets between us. Please don’t take Charlie from me.”
“Charlie?” My voice cracks. “You’re worried about my sister?”
“Very much. She’s important to you, so she’s important to me. You mean so much more to me than you realize. My hesitancy is not about you. You have no idea how much I want to strip you naked and bury you into this couch right now. I want you to scream when you come. I want everyone in this office to hear how bad I fucking want you. But I can’t…before explaining.”
“Elise?” I bravely ask. I brace myself, expecting him to fly off the handle.
But he doesn’t. He looks ahead, gazing through the window, lowering his head in a nod.
I already know his secret.It took me a while, but I figured it out.
I ruminated on this for weeks. Nathan’s not on social media outside of the occasional feature on the company’s page. James is always friendly to me, but I wouldn’t dare betray Nathan’strust by going to his dad. Dawn and Chelsea are tight-lipped. Charlie knows something, I can just tell, but she’s even tighter-lipped.
It was something my mom told me a long time ago that made me see what was always right in front of me.
Mom told me that when she passed, I would be angry for a while. She begged me to forgive her, but said it was okay to be angry at her for leaving us too soon. Sad, hurt, and distraught, I understood. But anger? It made no sense.
Mom explained that sadness trickles slowly, like a stream. It never really goes away, but it flows into other things and then morphs. The intensity ebbs and flows, never dissipating entirely. You have to make peace with sadness, because it never completely leaves us. Anger, however, is a bomb. It builds and builds and must be let out. It’s the only way to be free of it. Following her profound advice, I did what I needed to after she passed. I took a self-defense class and bloodied my knuckles on a few punching bags. I even went to a rage room once. Over and over, I found safe outlets to vent out my anger, and just like Mom promised, eventually it diffused.
But Nathan must’ve never felt his anger like I did. It’s the way he presses his lips together into a paper-thin line when he’s trying not to say what he wants. The way his eyes glaze over and he detaches from the world when he gets caught in a memory. It’s how he uses the silent treatment as a defense mechanism. When he was provoked enough at me to scream, instead, he told me to leave. He pushed me away because he doesn’t know how to deal with the bomb that explodes in his chest every single damn day. Nathan’ssoangry, and he doesn’t even realize it.
He’s angry because he lost the most important person in his life. I can’t tell him I completely understand, but I can try to. I know what that’s like.
“Elise was my former assistant,” he offers so quietly, it’s almost a whisper. “But more importantly, she was my fiancée. We had a lot of the wedding planned, but never got a chance to…” Trailing off, he places his fist against his mouth, trying hard to stay composed.
I place my hand on his broad back, and rub small, soothing circles. “How did it happen?”
“Car accident. She was headed to the airport to pick me up. I hate driving but she loved it. She insisted she come get me instead of security. Elise didn’t like having a lot of staff. She wanted us to lead normal lives. I used to have about ten people in my home at all times, and I got rid of them all. I told her she didn’t have to but Elise cooked, cleaned, drove, grocery shopped. She even washed her car in the driveway instead of running it through a car wash. She found joy in being self-sufficient.”
“My mom was like that,” I say. “One of my favorite things about her.” And it was the hardest thing for her to let go when her body got too weak.
“Elise would’ve liked you a lot. I think she would’ve liked you for me.” I freeze when tears form in Nathan’s eyes. It’s not just that I haven’t seen Nathan cry before, it’s that I couldn’t even picture it. He looks so vulnerable. I wish I had a larger wingspan so I could wrap him up and hold him properly.
