Nathan’s POV
The door slams shut behind Abigail, and I’m left standing in the silence. I walk away in anger. I had hid to watch her hesitate at the door, after I had stormed out leaving her. And when she left I walked back into the dusty room.
She shouldn’t have been here.
I halt by the door and my eyes drifts to the portrait, the familiar face staring down at me with an expression I can’t quite decipher. It’s been years since I allowed myself to step into this room, let alone confront the memories it holds. Yet here I am, the carefully constructed walls I’ve built around myself cracking under the tension of this place.
I exhale sharply, my hand slipping from the door as I turn back to the desk. The quiet hum of the room surrounds me, and my eyes find the portrait once more. My mother.
