Chapter 17 - NINETY DAYS
Therapy was ugly.
Nathan hated it.
That was one reason Emma believed it might be working.
The therapist refused to let him hide behind responsibility.
She refused to let Emma hide behind silence.
“You both disappeared,” Dr. Lane said during their fourth session.
Emma frowned.
“Nathan physically.”
“Emotionally, yes.”
Dr. Lane looked at Emma.
“You disappeared differently.”
Emma stiffened.
“I stayed.”
“You stopped telling him how deeply he was hurting you.”
“Because he didn’t listen.”
“I understand why.”
“But silence still became part of the system.”
Emma looked away.
Nathan immediately said, “Don’t make this equal.”
Dr. Lane turned toward him.
“I’m not.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“My neglect came first.”
Emma looked at him.
Dr. Lane nodded.
“And Emma’s withdrawal became protection.”
“That does not make it wrongdoing.”
Nathan relaxed slightly.
Emma noticed.
He was no longer desperate to spread responsibility.
That mattered.
Outside therapy, they learned ordinary things again.
Nathan could cook exactly three meals.
Two were bad.
Sophie loved sleeping on his chest.
Emma still hated when Nathan’s phone appeared on the table during dinner.
Nathan began leaving it in another room.
Not because she asked.
Because he noticed.
He started consulting for smaller logistics companies remotely.
No private jet.
No eighteen-hour days.
No billion-dollar acquisitions.
He seemed happier.
That frightened Emma more than success ever had.
“What if you resent this later?” she asked one evening.
Nathan was folding Sophie’s clothes.
“I might resent parts of anything.”
“That isn’t reassuring.”
“It’s honest.”
He looked at her.
“I miss the company sometimes.”
Emma’s stomach tightened.
“I miss walking into a room and knowing everybody had to listen.”
“I miss winning.”
“I miss being important.”
He folded another tiny shirt.
“But I don’t miss who I became trying to keep that feeling.”
Emma sat beside him.
“That is the first time you’ve admitted you miss it.”
Nathan nodded.
“I was afraid you’d think it meant I wanted my old life back.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Parts?”
“Yes.”
Emma appreciated the answer more than a perfect one.
Day seventy-eight arrived.
Then eighty.
Then eighty-nine.
On the final evening, Nathan came to the bookstore after closing.
Emma poured two coffees.
Neither touched them.
Nathan looked terrified.
Emma felt the same.
“Ninety days,” he said.
“Ninety days.”
“Do you want to stop?”
Emma stared at him.
Then Sophie cried upstairs.
Both of them smiled instinctively.
Emma looked toward the ceiling.
Then back at Nathan.
“No.”
Nathan’s eyes filled.
Emma raised one hand.
“That is not the same as saying everything is fixed.”
“I know.”
“I still don’t want the ring.”
“I know.”
“I still need my own home.”
“I know.”
Emma breathed.
“But I want another ninety days.”
Nathan laughed through tears.
“I would like that.”
Before either could say more, Nathan’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
Then went completely still.
Emma saw the name.
Daniel Mercer.
Nathan answered.
Daniel spoke for thirty seconds.
When the call ended, Nathan looked stunned.
“What?”
Nathan slowly put the phone down.
“The board wants me back again.”
Emma’s heart sank.
May you like
Nathan continued.
“This time there are no conditions.”
