Chapter 3

I printed out the seating chart and set it beside Nathan's breakfast plate.

He picked up his coffee before noticing the sheet of paper.

"Mom sent you this?"

"She asked me to check the menu."

He glanced at it, then moved it aside to make room for his plate.

"What's wrong?"

"My name isn't on it."

"Maybe it still needs adjusting."

"The restaurant needs confirmation today."

He tore off a piece of toast without looking at me.

"Then ask Mom."

I sat down across from him.

"I'm asking you."

He finally put down his toast.

"Claire, it's mostly people from work and a few relatives. You don't even like these things."

"I used to go to your company's Christmas dinner with you every year."

"That was before."

"What's different now?"

His gaze settled on me.

"You haven't been around these people in ages. Everyone will be talking about work. You'd just feel uncomfortable sitting there."

I pushed the seating chart toward him.

"Your cousin's bringing her boyfriend. Your brother's bringing his wife. Why are you the only one who thinks his wife shouldn't be there?"

"No one said you shouldn't be there."

"Then I'll tell your mom to call the restaurant and add a place for me."

Nathan picked up his cup, then set it down again.

"Can you please not make things difficult for everyone at the last minute?"

For the past two years and eight months, every time he woke me in the middle of the night, my first question had been where it hurt.

If his rehab appointment changed at short notice, I canceled my client calls.

When he wouldn't let a caregiver touch him, I stayed.

I couldn't remember a single time I'd called his needs an inconvenience.

"Does your mother not want me there," I asked, "or do you not want me there?"

"What difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference to me."

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed between his eyebrows.

"Fine. It's me."

I waited for him to go on.

"I want one night where all anyone sees is that I'm better." His words came faster. "I don't want to spend the whole evening listening to people tell you how hard you've had it, then looking at me like I owe you my life."

Under the table, my hand slowly unclenched.

"I just wanted to have dinner with you."

"You say that now. But when someone asks, you won't bring up the surgeries? How long you went without a full night's sleep?"

"You think I'd embarrass you at your own dinner?"

"You wouldn't have to do anything on purpose."

He folded the sheet of paper.

"If you're sitting there, everyone's going to remember."

I watched him press the crease into the paper beside my fingertips.

So it wasn't just his recovery he wanted to celebrate. It was finally being able to get away, even for a little while, from the person who'd cared for him.

He got up to fetch his briefcase, resting a hand briefly on my shoulder as he passed.

"Stay home and relax on Saturday. We'll go out another time, just us."

I didn't answer.

He seemed to take my silence as agreement.

Soon it was Saturday afternoon. For days, I'd been telling myself it was nothing, that Nathan just needed more time to adjust.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror, trying on his suit.

As I was carrying my laptop out of the bedroom, he stopped me.

"Come here a second."

He raised his arm and held out his cuff. A small brand label was still attached.

"Cut this off for me. Don't nick the fabric."

I took the scissors out of the drawer and set them on the dresser.

"You can do it yourself."

He looked at me in the mirror.

"Still mad?"

"The scissors are right here."

His mouth turned down, and he lowered his head to snip the threads himself.

"I don't want to fight tonight."

I walked out without a word, holding my laptop.

As Nathan left, he told me not to wait for him for dinner, then reminded me that the food in the fridge needed sorting out.

At 7:12, Nathan's aunt Ruth sent me a message.

"Such a shame we won't see you tonight. Nathan said you're on a project deadline and couldn't come out and unwind with him. Don't work too late, sweetheart."

I replied:

"I don't have a deadline tonight. I wanted to come. Nathan didn't want me there."