Chapter 3: Storms and Lies

From that day on, Nathaniel and Lila didn’t talk again.

At least, not for a while. The chat log went quiet. I almost let myself hope it was over.

Not until two weeks later, in the middle of the night.

A new message appeared, breaking the silence. My stomach twisted as I opened it.

Lila suddenly messaged Nathaniel.

[Nate, my car broke down. I’m stranded on I-90 in the pouring rain. Can you come get me?]

I remember that night.

The wind howled against our windows, rain lashing the glass. I’d wrapped myself in a blanket, shivering, while Nathaniel paced the living room.

The forecast called for a storm.

Every channel warned people to stay inside. I’d texted Nathaniel to drive safe, told him to come home early.

Nathaniel left early to pick me up from work, but still got caught in the rain.

He showed up soaked, hair plastered to his forehead, but he smiled when he saw me. “Sorry I’m late, babe. Traffic’s a mess.”

That night, I had a low-grade fever.

I felt weak, my skin hot to the touch. I tried to brush it off, but Nathaniel insisted I lie down.

Because I was pregnant, I couldn’t take any medicine.

He fussed over me, reading labels, double-checking everything online. “Just rest, Em. I’ve got you.”

Nathaniel kept wiping my forehead and neck with a towel.

He’d soaked the towel in cool water, gently pressing it to my skin. His touch was careful, almost tender. For a moment, I let myself believe he still cared.

Near midnight, my whole body ached with fever.

I tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. Nathaniel sat beside me, worry etched on his face.

Suddenly, Nathaniel’s phone rang.

The shrill sound cut through the quiet. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening.

He hung up and told me his brother, Mark, had car trouble on the highway.

He spoke quickly, grabbing his keys. “Mark’s stuck on I-90. I’ll go help him, shouldn’t be long.”

Mark was Nathaniel’s only brother.

I’d always liked Mark—easygoing, funny, the kind of guy who’d give you the shirt off his back.

I said, “It’s pouring out there, and he’s stuck on the interstate. It’s dangerous—you should go check on him.”

I forced a smile, trying to be supportive. “Just be careful, okay?”

“If I don’t go, what kind of brother would I be? But you’re sick, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I won’t be able to relax.”

He hesitated, torn. I almost believed he was telling the truth.

I smiled. “I already feel much better, really. I know you care about me. Just go and come back soon.”

He leaned down, kissed my forehead. “You’re sure?”

Nathaniel still looked worried.

He lingered in the doorway, glancing back at me. I waved him off, trying to make it easier.

But he turned, grabbed his coat, and hurried out the door.

The door slammed behind him. I lay back, listening to the rain, wondering when he’d be home.