CHAPTER 11: In Thirty Days
1584 Words
Three months.
Three whole months had passed since the dinner.
Three months since the alley.
Three months since Derrick Blackwood somehow became a permanent inconvenience in Nate's life.
And somehow...
Things had gotten worse.
Not dramatically.
Not all at once.
Just little pieces.
Small things that slowly piled up until Nate couldn't tell where the pressure was coming from anymore.
His classes continued.
The café remained busy.
Customers still complained about coffee prices.
Daniel still talked enough for three people.
Life moved.
It just didn't feel like his anymore.
"You're doing it again."
Nate looked up from his notebook.
Daniel was staring at him from across the lecture hall.
"What?"
"That thing."
"What thing?"
"The staring into space thing."
Nate sighed.
"I was listening."
"You've been on the same page for ten minutes."
Nate glanced down.
Daniel was unfortunately correct.
Again.
"Mind your business."
"I am minding my business."
"No you're not."
Daniel grinned.
"Your life became my business years ago."
Before Nate could respond, his phone vibrated inside his pocket.
Once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
Nate frowned.
Most people knew not to call him repeatedly during class.
He pulled the phone out.
His uncle.
Richard Carter.
A strange feeling settled in his stomach immediately.
Because Richard never called this much.
Not unless something was wrong.
Nate answered quietly.
"Hello?"
"Nate."
His uncle's voice sounded unusually serious.
Nate sat up straighter.
"What happened?"
"Come home."
The feeling in Nate's stomach worsened.
"What happened?"
"Just come home."
"Uncle-"
"Now."
The line went dead.
Nate stared at the screen.
Daniel immediately leaned over.
"What happened?"
Nate slowly lowered the phone.
"I don't know."
That was the problem.
If Richard was angry, Nate could handle it.
If Richard was disappointed, Nate could handle that too.
But uncertainty?
Uncertainty was worse.
Because it meant his imagination got involved.
And his imagination was rarely kind.
---
The drive home felt longer than usual.
By the time Nate stepped through the front door, something already felt wrong.
The house was too quiet.
Not empty.
Quiet.
Like everyone inside was waiting for something.
His shoes barely crossed the entrance before he saw them.
And stopped.
The Blackwoods.
All of them.
Marcus Blackwood sat on one side of the living room.
Tall.
Sharp.
Looking exactly like a man who expected the world to obey him.
Beside him sat Eleanor Blackwood.
Calm as always.
Elegant.
Impossible to read.
Damian stood nearby.
Expressionless.
Like a decorative threat.
And then there was Derrick.
Seated beside his parents.
Silent.
Still.
Perfectly composed.
For a second Nate simply stared.
Because nobody had warned him about this.
Nobody had explained anything.
Nobody had even given him time to prepare.
His aunt, Martha, caught sight of him first.
Her eyes softened immediately.
A small gesture.
Barely noticeable.
Yet somehow strange coming from her.
"Nate."
She patted the empty seat beside her.
"Come sit."
Nate obeyed automatically.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he needed answers.
The moment he sat down, his eyes drifted toward Derrick.
Instinctively.
Searching.
Questioning.
Looking for something.
Anything.
But Derrick wasn't looking at him.
For the first time Nate could remember...
Derrick was staring at the floor.
Not his phone.
Not the room.
Not even his father.
Just the floor.
And somehow that unsettled Nate more than if Derrick had been staring directly at him.
Silence stretched.
Long.
Uncomfortable.
Heavy.
Then Marcus Blackwood finally spoke.
"We called this meeting for a reason."
His voice cut through the room cleanly.
No hesitation.
No wasted words.
Nate felt his shoulders tense.
Victor's eyes shifted toward Richard.
"I believe you had something to tell him."
Richard sighed.
A tired sound.
One that instantly made Nate nervous.
"Nate."
His uncle folded his hands together.
"There has been a change to the original arrangement."
A change.
The words landed softly.
But something about them felt dangerous.
Nate didn't speak.
Didn't interrupt.
Just listened.
Richard hesitated.
Then continued.
"The wedding date has been moved forward."
Silence.
Nate blinked.
Once.
His expression didn't change.
Not immediately.
Richard swallowed.
"The wedding will take place in one month."
The room vanished.
Not literally.
But suddenly everything sounded distant.
Muted.
Like water had filled his ears.
One month.
One month?
Nate stared.
Waiting for someone to laugh.
Waiting for someone to say it was a joke.
Nobody did.
"The preparations will begin next week," Richard continued quietly.
Still nobody moved.
Still nobody spoke.
Nate slowly turned his head.
First toward his aunt.
Then toward his uncle.
Then finally toward Derrick.
And this time...
Derrick looked up.
Their eyes met.
Only for a second.
Before Derrick looked away again.
Like he couldn't hold the eye contact.
Like he didn't want to.
Something inside Nate snapped.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Enough to finally break.
He stood.
Abruptly.
The chair scraped loudly across the floor.
Everyone looked at him.
"No."
The word came out before he could stop it.
Raw.
Immediate.
"No."
Richard's expression tightened.
"Nate-"
"No."
This time louder.
Stronger.
His chest was rising too quickly now.
His heartbeat hammering.
Because suddenly the future wasn't six months away anymore.
It wasn't distant.
It wasn't theoretical.
It was here.
Standing directly in front of him.
Waiting.
Demanding.
And for the first time since all of this started...
Nate Carter was angry.
The room fell silent.
Not the ordinary kind.
Not the kind people created out of politeness.
This silence felt sharp.
Dangerous.
Like everyone was waiting to see what happened next.
Nate's hands were shaking.
He hated that.
Hated that anyone could see it.
Especially them.
Especially now.
"No," he repeated.
His voice cracked slightly.
That only made him angrier.
Marcus Blackwood's expression remained unchanged.
Eleanor sat quietly.
Richard looked exhausted.
Martha looked worried.
And Derrick...
Derrick still wasn't looking at him.
That somehow hurt more than anything else.
"Nate," Richard said carefully, "sit down."
"No."
"Nate."
"No."
The word echoed through the room again.
Louder this time.
Stronger.
Because now that it had started, he couldn't stop it.
"This wasn't the agreement."
Richard rubbed his forehead.
"Nate..."
"No, Uncle."
His voice rose.
Not screaming.
Not yet.
But getting there.
"This wasn't what you told me."
Nobody answered.
Nobody corrected him.
And that alone felt like an answer.
"You told me six months."
Richard closed his eyes briefly.
"The circumstances changed."
Nate laughed.
A short sound.
Humorless.
Broken.
"The circumstances changed?"
He looked around the room.
At the expensive clothes.
The perfect posture.
The carefully controlled expressions.
And suddenly all of it made him furious.
"You don't get to change my life because the circumstances changed."
"Nate-"
"No."
His eyes burned.
His throat hurt.
But he kept going.
Because if he stopped now, he knew he would never say any of it.
"You all sit here discussing dates and arrangements like I'm not even in the room."
His voice shook.
"I have a life."
Silence.
"I have school."
His breathing was getting uneven now.
"I have friends."
His eyes found Richard.
Then Martha.
Then Lily.
"I have people."
Martha lowered her head.
Lily looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole.
"You don't get to decide that one month is enough."
Richard stood.
"Nate."
"No."
The word came out almost desperate.
Because nobody seemed to understand.
Or maybe they did.
Maybe they simply didn't care.
"I'm not doing this."
His voice finally broke.
And that was worse than shouting.
Because now everyone could hear it.
The fear underneath the anger.
The panic.
The grief.
"I'm not doing this."
Richard took a step forward.
"Nate, listen to me."
"No."
Another step.
"Nate."
"I said no."
His chest tightened painfully.
Everything suddenly felt too small.
The room.
The walls.
The air.
All of it.
He couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't stay.
Without another word, Nate turned around.
And walked out.
Fast.
Past the hallway.
Past the stairs.
Past every voice calling his name.
Until he reached his room.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Hard.
The sound echoed through the house.
Then silence.
Again.
Only this time Nate was alone with it.
His hands hurt.
It took him several seconds to realize why.
He was gripping the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles had turned white.
His chest rose and fell rapidly.
Breath refusing to settle.
One month.
One month.
One month.
The words wouldn't stop repeating.
Like a broken recording.
Like a nightmare.
His eyes burned.
He blinked once.
Twice.
Then the tears came anyway.
Quiet at first.
Then harder.
Because there was nobody here to see.
Nobody to judge.
Nobody to tell him to calm down.
The café.
Gone.
School.
Gone.
His room.
Gone.
His freedom.
Gone.
His future.
Gone.
All because of a decision that had apparently been made without him.
A knock sounded on the door.
Nate ignored it.
Another knock.
Gentler this time.
Still he said nothing.
The handle didn't move.
Whoever it was wasn't trying to force their way inside.
Just waiting.
Then a voice came through the wood.
Soft.
Unexpected.
"Nate."
Martha.
His eyes immediately hardened.
"Nate," she said again. "Can I come in?"
No answer.
Several seconds passed.
"I only want to talk."
Still silence.
Eventually Nate laughed bitterly.
A small broken sound.
"Why?"
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Silence answered him first.
Then:
"Because somebody should."
That made him pause.
His fingers tightened.
For a moment he considered telling her to leave.
To go away.
To disappear.
But instead...
He walked to the door.
Unlocked it.
And opened it.
- Writer
