Chapter 4
He stepped past Adrian.
“And I think you're about to discover that time isn't something people owe you.”
Claire was halfway down the hotel steps when Nathan caught up.
“Claire.”
She turned.
He stopped several feet away.
“Would you like me to call you a car?”
She shook her head.
“I drove.”
“Good.”
He hesitated.
Then smiled faintly.
“For the record, that was impressive.”
“What was?”
“You didn't raise your voice once.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“I've had a lot of practice swallowing things.”
Nathan's smile disappeared.
“You shouldn't have to.”
For several seconds, they stood beneath the warm lights of the hotel entrance.
Then he reached into his jacket and handed her a business card.
“My number.”
She glanced at it.
“Is this where you invite me to dinner?”
“No.”
Her eyebrows rose.
Nathan smiled.
“This is where I tell you that if you ever want coffee, or someone to listen, or an honest opinion about a truly terrible restaurant, you can call.”
“No conditions?”
“None.”
“And if I never call?”
“Then I'll hope you're happy anyway.”
Claire stared at him.
There was no challenge in his voice.
No demand.
No expectation that kindness had to be rewarded.
She slipped the card into her purse.
“Goodnight, Nathan.”
“Goodnight, Claire.”
He watched her leave.
But unlike Adrian, he didn't expect her to come back.
Over the next three months, Claire rebuilt her life one ordinary decision at a time.
She accepted a senior design position at an architectural studio she had once dreamed of joining.
She moved into a sunlit apartment with tall windows and uneven hardwood floors.
She bought yellow curtains because she liked yellow.
Adrian had always called it childish.
She adopted a rescue dog named Oliver, whose favorite activity was stealing socks and sleeping across her pillows.
And she began seeing a therapist who asked her a question during their fourth appointment.
“What would your life look like if you stopped organizing it around someone else's disappointment?”
Claire cried for twenty minutes.
Then she started finding out.
She took weekend pottery classes.
She traveled to Vermont with her sister.
She visited her grandmother every Sunday.
She learned to enjoy dinners that didn't end with someone checking their phone beneath the table.
And occasionally, she called Nathan.
At first, it was coffee.
Then lunch.
Then a long walk through the botanical gardens after a difficult week.
Nathan never hurried her.