tug, sigh and sit back in my seat. “What’s the problem, Nathan?”
He nods, his tongue creeping out to moisten his lower lip. “I promised you I’d never hurt you purposefully.”
“That you did.” Where’s he going with this?
“I’m not doing this to purposefully hurt you either.” He mutters conspiratorially. I really don’t have the brainpower for this right now.
“Look…” I place my hand on his that rests on his thigh and give him a soft look. “I don’t blame you. You don’t need to feel guilty. Dillan and I aren’t your problem, we never were. Thank you for the ride.”
The look he gives me shows far too much regret than any person should have to deal with. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done it for you.”
“That’s why I’m not blaming you now.”
With one last lingering look at me, he finally flicks the locks on the doors. “I’ll miss you, Gwen.”
My heavy heart pounds. “Why are you saying that like we’ll never see each other again?” Panic follows, I don’t like this. “What about Dillan?”
He doesn’t respond, he only twists his hands on the steering wheel and stares straight ahead.
“Nathan?” I prompt, my voice breaking. “What about Dillan?”
“I…” He looks away from me. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t do this,” I whisper, full of pain and desperation. “You promised me a home…”
“I gave you one.”
“And now you’re ripping it away.” I sniff, trying so hard not to cry. “You’re my best friend.”
“Get out of the car, Guinevere,” he says gruffly.
“No.”
He leans over, keeping his face turned away from me and pushes the door open with his hand. The cool breeze dries the burning tears on my cheeks. “Get out of the car.”
Shaking my head with disappointment, I lean over and press my lips to his cheek before climbing out of the car. He inhales a shuddering breath as I close the door and wave at him through the windscreen.
I’m grateful that he doesn’t leave until I’m inside, hearing the engine slowly quieten as it leaves the driveway is hard enough. Watching it would probably break me.
“It didn’t go well then?” Jeanine says as I step into her house. She’s stood near the window by the door so I’m assuming she was watching. I take Dillan from her arms and hold him at arm’s length.
“Did you miss me, baby? Did you miss me?” I coo in a baby voice. I look to Jeanine and shrug. “Unfortunately it didn’t.”
“He’ll come around,” she reassures me, but I don’t need the reassurance. Right now I’m too angry with Nathan to even consider fighting for his friendship. “What did he say?”
“Not much. Did you know he was going to move all of my things out?”
She shakes her head. “He told me he had some family business to deal with and needed the house free, so I told him I’d invite you round for the morning.”
I want to be mad at her betrayal but I can’t; she was just looking out for someone she’s known since he was a child. I can’t blame her for her loyalty to him and not to me.
“If I’d known that he would do this, I would have told you.” Her eyes hold sincerity and I believe her words. It brings me a small amount of relief. “What are you going to do now?”
I blow out a breath, which accidentally catches Dillan in the face and makes him jerk around with fluttering eyelids. Giggling, I take him into the room and lay him on the play mat. He stares up at the flashing lights that hover over his head and kicks his chunky little legs. “I’ll call my mum or Sasha and see if one of them can pick me up.”
“Well, if they can’t, I will take you.”
I shake my head. “I know how much you hate driving for long periods of time. We’ll be fine.”
“Where’s your necklace?” She asks and I wince in response. “Oh dear.”
“I had a moment of anger,” I whisper, feeling ashamed of myself. My fingers seek out the necklace which is no longer there. “I’ll be back. I’m going to make a few calls.”
Unfortunately Sasha can’t get me until tomorrow and my mum’s car is in for repair. That leaves me with no options. Maybe I should just accept that ride from Nathan.
It would give us a chance to talk.
Burying my pride, I pick up my phone, having to lean over the couch as the cord for my charger isn’t long enough to reach and if I unplug it it’ll just