Page 19 of Scar Tissue

And suddenly I hate that I’m putting her in this position. But the way she’s holding onto me feels like maybe she needs it as much as I do, so I can’t let go. If that makes me selfish, then so fucking be it.

Chapter

Thirteen

THEA

Nathan is clinging onto me for dear life, like at any moment I might vanish into thin air. The look in his eyes when he approached me was haunted, and immediately any bit of resentment and bitterness I might have felt toward him disappeared. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so…vulnerable. For several long minutes we just stand there, holding onto each other. With each second that passes I relax more and more in his arms and it feels likehome.The thought is terrifying because every feeling I had for him those years ago, growing up, is coming barreling back at a pace I don’t want to come to terms with. But I can’t bring myself to stop them. I told him it was easier to blame him for Miles’ death, however, it’s only more exhausting with the push and pull of feelings Idofeel for Nathan.

His breath shudders in the crook of my neck and the warmth of it causes a shiver to make its way up my spine. Where my head rests against his shoulder, I can smell his body wash—a mix of whiskey-soaked cinnamon with an undertone of cedarwood. Fighting the urge to breathe him deeper, I pull back instead, resting a hand against his cheek when he looks down at me. The emotion clogged in his blue depths only makes them that much lighter, so much so theyseem almost translucent. My fingers tremble slightly against his skin and I briefly wonder if he can feel it; see how much I’m fighting the way he undoes me by simply being in his presence. He leans into the touch, taking a deep breath as we just stare at each other. Even though his eyes are glossed over by unshed tears, I can also see the question in them as his arms move from my back and lower to my waist as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’m not sure if he’s asking for permission to touch me there or if there’s something else working inside his head.

To avoid pulling away from him, to avoid deepening the hurt that’s already encasing him, I stay still and his posture relaxes a little. It’s almost like he was expecting the rejection, and the guilt that washes over me at the way I’ve been treating him suffocates me. “What happened?” I whisper, afraid of spooking him.

He doesn’t respond right away and I’m entirely convinced that he may not when he turns his head away from my palm, averting his gaze. His voice is quiet when he says, “The past.”

A few minutes later we’ve unraveled from our embrace in the hallway and he’s led me to the couch in the living room, an unreadable expression on his face. When he sits us down, he doesn’t let go of my hands as his thumbs stroke the skin of my own. “You’re worrying me, Nathan.”

His throat bobs as he swallows roughly. “Do you know why I became a surgeon, despite the fact I had originally planned to pledge psychiatry?” Confusion hits me, because I’m not sure where he’s going with this. I shake my head no. “Because I couldn’t do anything for him.”

“Couldn’t do anything for…” My words cease as understanding blossoms. “Miles?”

He nods, and I’m no longer sure I want to hear what he has to say, but the other part of me needs the answers I’ve desperately been seeking from him for years. “When we crashed into that tree, the only thing I cared about was getting to him, and I couldn’t. Somehow, I had managed to get myself out of the driver’s seat butwhen I attempted to open the passenger door, it wouldn’t budge. I remember punching the window until my knuckles were bloody before rushing back to the driver’s side and climbing back inside, doing anything I could to get him out, to wake him up. But he wouldn’t.” His voice cracks, and I can feel the way his hands tremble around my own as I hold my breath. “My voice was raw by the time first responders pulled me out…from begging him to just—just live. The thing is, I knew the moment I woke up after we struck. But I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t accept the fact that this bright and fucking relentless force of nature was gone. And I was the reason. I’ve gone through that night so many times in my head since it happened, and I’ve always blamed myself for it. But tonight was one of the first nights the full details came rushing back to me.”

Tears blur my vision at his confession and I open my mouth to say something but he shuts me down. “Don’t,” he whispers. “Just let me say this. Please. For the longest time I have always wondered if I had been stronger or faster or maybe just did anything differently if it would’ve made a difference. And I was determined to never feel that powerless again.”

“Why did you leave?” The question is out before I have a chance to rein it back in. “Why did you just leave us there? Leavemethere?”

He looks everywhere but me before he responds. “How was I supposed to face you or your parents knowing that not only was I the one driving that night, but I was also the one to walk away when he didn’t get to? If I blamed myself, surely all of you did, too.”

I shake my head. “We didn’t blame you. You were just as much a part of our family, though…”

“Yes, you did. There were never any words exchanged, but I could see it and feel it that night. And the reality is, you had every right to. I was the reminder of what they lost. Whatyoulost. And that fucking gutted me. Knowing that it hurt you the most. Knowing that I took him from you.” A lone tear runs down his face then and I can no longer conceal my own.

Tears spill over my lashes as I clutch his shaking hands tighter. “Me?” It’s the only word I can get out.

He nods slowly. “You looked at me like you were waiting for me to fix it. There were questions in your eyes demanding answers that I could never give you. So I left. Because staying at the time felt fucking suffocating, and running felt like the only thing I could do.”

The grief that passes between us is so thick it could choke me. There are years—yearsof things left unsaid. The last thing I want to do is make this worse for him, but I need to be honest with him. I take a shaky breath and muster up every bit of courage I have. “You leaving hurt worse than anything else.”

There is so much regret in the look he levels in my direction as his demeanor crumbles. “I know, and I’ve had to live with that decision, too. And I’m so damn sorry. It might be a day late and a dollar short, but I mean it. You don’t have to believe me, but I am.”

“It was an accident…You didn’t kill him. But you didn’t have to leave. We could have carried our grief together.”

His breathing hitches and another look passes over his face as though he can’t believe what I’m saying. As if he truly believes that I thought it was his fault. A few moments later, he sags. “I’m so goddamn tired of carrying it,” he confesses with the rawest inflection.

“Then don’t,” I whisper. “You don’t have to anymore.”

His bitter laugh cuts through the air, startling me. “And that’s the fucking irony of this. Because I’ve lived with this guilt for years, and while a part of me likely would’ve anyway, it would’ve been nice to know that it wasn’t my fault.”

“That’s what I’m saying…” But I know better than anyone that it doesn’t matter what anyone else says when it’s your own voice poisoning your mind.

He shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I mean.”

The tears have stopped, but I can still feel where they dried on my face. “I’m not following…”

He squeezes my hands once more before letting goand standing up. “We need to talk with Claire.” Anger surges at the change of topic but he must see it because he continues, “I promise you’ll get answers.”

A half hour later,Nathan was able to convince Claire to come and join us in the living room. I’ve been sick with nerves over what his words meant, and I was about to go back there myself and haul her out by her hair if she didn’t cooperate. It’s evident she doesn’t trust easily, and I guess a part of me does understand where she comes from in that notion. Not that our reasons are remotely the same. When we went shopping, any attempt at conversation went unanswered and I decided to leave her alone. I also understand what it’s like to be forced to discuss something you don’t want to, courtesy of my parents after the way my life has blown up. It was simply a trip of necessity for her and a way to clear my mind for myself. I probably should have asked Nathan if I could use the card to buy myself the few things that I did, but he didn’t seem fazed by it when I returned. Granted, he was lost in his own thoughts.