He looks at me again, his eyes telling me to state how he’s been brushing me off. That knocks against my frustration so I tell him. “You sleep on the sofa instead of in the bedroom with me. You try to blame it on getting some fresh air and “accidentally” falling sleep on the couch but . . .” I nearly choke as I actually face the facts. “Just tell me now, Nolan, what I’m doing wrong. I swear I’ll fix it. We can fix anything you just have to work with me. You have to open up to me. You haven’t said a word about how you feel about your mother’s death since I’ve been here. I’ve let you in before. It’s your turn now.”
“Natalie, I don’t want to talk about it. It doesn’t feel right to talk about yet. I’m not ready for the funeral—I’m not ready for any of it.”
His grip tightens around the wheel, causing his knuckles to turn pale. “I want to help you, Nolan. You’ve always complained about me not letting you in but you’re being a complete hypocrite! I want you to tell me how you feel.”
“I don’t feel shit, Natalie! Damn it!” The tone of his voice catches me off guard as he bangs the palms of his hands against the wheel. I swallow the lump in my throat as his grey eyes glare holes through mine, the anger blazing. “You want to help me, then give me my space, Natalie. Give me time to actually cope with my loss. It’s only been a week and I feel like my world has crumbled to pieces. I hate that you’re going through it with me but I don’t want it for you. I want you happy but you won’t be while I’m like this. Not while I’m unhappy.” He shakes his head.
“I’ve lost both of my parents and it hurts. I don’t want you to hurt just because I am. I don’t even know when I’ll be able to face the reality of it entirely but once I do, it’s going to feel like a million rocks have been thrown at me—like someone has just shot me a dozen times with a gun. It’s going to kill me all over again.”
Silence seizes the car, the heaviness growing between us. My gaze drifts as I stare at my lap. So that’s what’s been on his mind? He doesn’t want me to be unhappy since he’s unhappy. He wants me smiling, but how can I smile when the one I love is going through heartache? I wish I could be the one to heal the pain and help him but he doesn’t want my help. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me right now.
Nolan cranks the car with a sigh and pulls out of the parking lot, leaving me with no choice but to remain silent. Is this it? Is he not going to say anything else about it? Is he just going to leave it in the air? I’ve learned that leaving shit in the air makes matters worse. Take my parents for instance. Their lack of communication almost led them into a divorce.
It takes us only ten minutes to get back to the house and as soon as he pulls into the driveway and turns the car off, he gets out quickly and shuts the door behind him. I push out, refusing to let him walk away from what’s just happened.
“Nolan!” I yell after him as he opens the garage.
He doesn’t look back and it pisses me off even more. The anger and frustration is boiling to surface with each step he takes away from me. He continues ahead, opening the door that leads to the kitchen and stepping in, leaving the door open behind him.
“Nolan, talk to me please,” I beg.
I shut the door behind me and in only a matter of seconds, he spins around to face me. I’ve never seen him so upset. Not since he fought my best friend Mark at the beach. That was the angriest I had seen him but I think now is worse. Veins are popping out of his forehead. His eyes are glistening and his fists are clenched tightly. A heavy line draws between his eyebrows and creases form at his forehead as he steps towards me.
“Natalie.” His face then softens as he cups my jawline. I feel the tears pricking at my eyes but I force myself to hold off