Helping Richard downstairs, I saw Nathaniel stumble in, disheveled, staring at me. The scene felt like a memory—me supporting Richard, descending these stairs. Back then, I'd have met Nathaniel's gaze with a smile, eager to talk. Now, no matter how intensely he looked, I treated him like air.
That truth hit him hard: I wasn't coming back. We had no future. His heart felt pierced, each breath a tearing pain.
At dinner, Nathaniel sat across from me, his eyes burning into me, piling my plate with my favorite foods. I didn't look up, focusing on Richard, picking out his offerings and dumping them in the trash dish.
Afterward, I chatted with Richard a bit before saying goodbye. Nathaniel stayed silent, lingering nearby. When I left, he followed.
I knew he was behind me. I walked to the esta
