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“Your little runaway bride fiasco.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize how unfair and hurtful they are. I didn't mean them. I just wanted her to listen to me. I lost control.
All the anger drains out of me, replaced by nauseating guilt.
Natalie’s face flushes a deep red as she blinks furiously, moisture gathering along her lashes. “That was really low,” she hisses, her voice thick with emotion.
Before I can apologize, she turns on her heel and storms off, leaving me standing amidst my own shame and idiocy.
I know the smart thing to do is chase after her, but I'm frozen. This is exactly what I was afraid of. It’s what I did to Jack, what I feared I'd do to Natalie if I allowed myself to get close to her. I'm no better now than I was back then, and the manifestation of my fears is suffocating.
My heart pounds as I struggle to breathe. I've crossed a line that I'm not sure I can come back from. I want to make things right, but I'm not sure how, or if she'd even let me. The world is starting to spin, and I have nothing to grab onto, the loneliness I've grown so accustomed to is suddenly staggering.
Aside from Jack, I don't know many people here. My old military buddies, the ones who might understand the kind of stress I'm under, seem like distant connections now, faded by time and different life paths. I wouldn't even know how to begin.
Despite everything Natalie and I just fought about, I find myself pulling out my phone and typing a text to Jack. I need someone to look out for her, even if she hates me for it. And to feel like maybe I'm not entirely alone.
Things at the site are getting worse. Please keep an eye on Nat for me. Don't tell her I asked.
I hit send before I can second-guess myself. It’s done. Now all I can do is hope that Jack will understand and that, eventually, Natalie will forgive me.
With a deep, shaky breath, I tuck my cellphone away and wander over to the guys, who have congregated by the destroyed scaffolding. I need to get a grip, throw myself back into the work.
The crew surveys the damage with grim expressions, their body language stiff and closed off. Everyone has been avoiding the graffiti—both physically and in conversation—though it must be at the forefront of their minds. The police tape that once sectioned off the area has been removed, but that provides little comfort.
As I approach, a storm of emotion continues to churn inside me. I try to focus on the task at hand, to engage with the immediate needs of the project, but the fight with Natalie weighs so heavily on me that I feel like I'm treading water. Concentration is impossible.
Thankfully, Gabriel suddenly appears beside me, pulling me back up to the surface. "The damage is pretty extensive," he starts, gesturing to the twisted metal and broken planks. "The main supports there and there," he points, "are completely compromised. We'll need to do a full rebuild before we can even think about getting our guys back up there."
I nod, relieved to have my number two back at my side, and impressed at how quickly Gabriel was able to assess the damage. "You've had time to survey this already? You're quick," I observe, almost incredulous. He couldn't have been here more than five minutes, and he’s the only one composed enough to even think about a proper assessment.
Gabriel waves away my comment as if it was no big deal. "Yeah, I took a quick look as soon as I got here. Wanted to see what we're up against.”
I kneel down to get a better look at the supports. It'll take a bit more investigation before we start, but Gabriel's quick survey appears to be correct. I'm grateful at least one of us has managed to keep our heads today.
I nod and brush the grass from my pants as I rise, turning my attention back to the site. "Alright, let’s prioritize safety and get a structural assessment done. I want everyone to be extra cautious until we know the full extent of what we’re dealing with."
Gabriel agrees, and we set to work organizing the necessary evaluations and repairs.
Even with Gabriel here to shoulder some of the burden, the weight on my chest feels no lighter. My stomach continues to knot as my thoughts are pulled again and again to Natalie and our argument.
It all started over my concern for her safety, and somehow ended with me insulting her in the worst way possible. But honestly, I'm not surprised. This is who I am, after all.
Just when things were starting to go right, I ruined them.
CHAPTER 19
JULIAN
Later that night, as I'm still trying to process everything, my phone rings unexpectedly.
The caller ID flashes Jack's name, and a mixture of surprise and cautious optimism washes over me. We haven't spoken since I called him the other day. Even though that went well, he hasn't answered my text about watching over Nat, and there's a good chance she's already told him about our fight.
I answer the call, trying to sound neutral despite my nerves. "Hey, Jack."
"Hey, man,” Jack begins, his voice a bit unsteady. “I've been thinking, and I... I think it's time we cleared the air."
I hesitate, considering the ramifications of a direct discussion with Jack. "I think that’s a good idea," I finally reply. Part of me is relieved he's taking the initiative, but the other part is worried about where this might lead.
