Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,184

I think it’s important,” he decided. “I want them to feel like they know her. But the thing is, talking about her, and the way they talk about her—it’s good. I think if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have the balls to mention her name. Because at first, it hurt so much to even think about her, and I had to force myself. But now I’m used to it.”

He reached beneath the neckline of his T-shirt and drew out the cord he always wore around his neck. She saw his wedding ring flash in the hint of moonlight through the window, and then its gleam was hidden by his fingers as he toyed with the gold band. “I didn’t take off my ring for a while. Maybe a year. I couldn’t. I tried to take it off one day and I thought I was going to be sick. But then, after a while, I tried again, and I felt okay.

“I think I’ve been fine for a couple of years, and I didn’t even notice the change. Until now, I mean. When Ma was diagnosed…” He grunted, corrected himself. “Misdiagnosed. It felt like this huge hole ripped open inside me. And that was when I realised: I used to have a hole like that for Ellie, but it’s gone now. I can feel the scar, but it’s healed.”

He fell silent, his thoughtful gaze settling on her. It didn’t feel like the kind of scrutiny that made her skin crawl. When their eyes met, it felt like touching him, like putting a hand on his shoulder. It made Hannah suddenly sleepy after hours of being too worried to relax. She found herself simultaneously glad that he’d recovered and furious with the world for giving him another hole to deal with.

But he would deal with it. She suspected he could deal with anything.

“You took Zach to church,” he said abruptly.

Hannah blinked, yanked from the mire of her thoughts. “I did. A little while before you arrived.”

He nodded. “Do you know why he asked?”

“I thought it must be to do with your mum,” she said carefully.

Nate grunted. Then, after a pause, he said, “Is that where you go on Sundays?”

“Yes. And then I have dinner with my mother and sister, and sometimes Evan.”

“That’s cute.”

Hannah had decided to forget that his arm was resting on the back of the sofa, right behind her. She’d told herself firmly that she was imagining its warmth, imagining the comfort it seemed to radiate. So of course, he chose now, when her tension had eased, to touch her.

He slid a hand under the curtain of her braids and ran a slow, absent finger over the indent of her spine, stopping just above the neckline of her shirt. Every part of her, every inch of her body and thought in her head, focused on that contact like it was the centre of the fucking universe. But Nate wasn’t even looking at her. He was staring into the shadows, frowning hard, his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

“I think Zach was depressed,” he said.

She almost forgot about his fingers resting against her skin. “You do?”

“Actually, I know he was. He kind of told me. He told me lots of things. I’m worried about him, but he says I shouldn’t be. He reckons he’s been working on it and he’s better now.”

Her heart thudded against her ribcage, but Hannah forced herself to breathe deeply. She hadn’t realised exactly how much Zach meant to her until… well, apparently, right this second. Somehow, though, she managed to focus on Nate. “Do you believe him?”

There was a heavy pause. Then Nate shifted, as if his body was fidgeting along with his thoughts. “I don’t know. Is it that easy, to just… make yourself better?”

“I understand why you’re worried,” she said. “But some people are really good at managing their health. You know, once you get used to it—taking your medication and forcing yourself to go outside, keeping journals so you can watch your own thoughts…”

“Is that what you do?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as gentle as the way he’d touched her.

She managed to say, “Yes. I had a therapist. I learned things. I force myself to remember those things. It works out okay.”

“So, you don’t struggle? You never slip?”

Although it pained her to admit it, she refused to lie. Not about this. “I do. I do slip.” Even when everything was fine, when she should be great, unease stalked her