When Love Break Ties

Chapter 35: Family Tragedy

Nathan had been sitting in the middle of a bustling café in downtown Tokyo, sipping on a hot cup of coffee while pretending to work on his manuscript, when his phone rang. The familiar ringtone pierced through the noise of conversations and clinking dishes, and he glanced at the screen. It was his sister, Rosa.

He hesitated for a moment, an odd sense of dread curling in his chest. Rosa didn't usually call, especially not out of the blue like this. They had drifted over the past few months, just like the rest of his family, thanks to the tension that had built between them over his relationship with Abby. He picked up the phone, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Hello?" he said, his voice tight with unease.

"Nathan..." Rosa's voice cracked, thick with tears. "It's Dad. He... he's gone."

The world seemed to stop. The hum of the café faded into the background as Nathan's heart sank into his stomach. He couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he finally managed to stammer.

"He had a heart attack this morning," Rosa continued, sobbing softly. "We tried everything, but he didn't make it. He's gone, Nathan."

The weight of her words hit him like a ton of bricks. Nathan's father—strong, stubborn, larger than life—was gone. Just like that. No warning. No goodbye.

"I'm so sorry," Rosa whispered.

Nathan couldn't respond. He stared blankly ahead, the noise of the café suddenly feeling like a distant roar in his ears. His hands trembled as he gripped the phone tighter, trying to make sense of what he'd just heard. His father. Gone.

He hadn't seen his father in over a year. They'd spoken briefly a few times, but their conversations had been strained, mostly filled with awkward silences and veiled resentment. The distance between them had grown wider as Nathan had focused on his relationship with Abby, leaving behind the family he had once been so close to.

Now, it was too late.

"Nathan?" Rosa's voice pulled him back to the present. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah..." His voice was barely audible, thick with emotion. "I'm here."

"We're... we're having the wake in Manila," Rosa said, her voice trembling. "We need you to come home. Please."

Nathan nodded, though she couldn't see him. "I'll be there," he whispered. "I'll be there."

The flight back to Manila was a blur. Nathan barely registered the passing hours, lost in a fog of grief and guilt. Memories of his father flooded his mind—the way he used to cheer Nathan on during his basketball games, the way he laughed, the way he always knew what to say to lift everyone's spirits. And then, there were the more recent memories, the ones tainted by Nathan's absence and the growing divide between them.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed his father. That if he had been there, if he hadn't pushed his family away, maybe things would have been different. Maybe he could have been there to say goodbye.

Abby had insisted on coming with him. She sat beside him on the plane, her hand resting on his, offering silent support. But her presence felt different now. Nathan couldn't explain it, but something had shifted between them. The fight they'd had before he got the call lingered like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over everything. As much as he appreciated her being there, he felt a strange distance between them, as if they were walking on two different paths that were slowly pulling them apart.

When Nathan arrived in Manila, the air was thick with humidity, and the familiar scent of the city filled his senses. It had been a long time since he'd set foot in the place he once called home, and now, returning under these circumstances felt like a cruel twist of fate.

His family greeted him at the entrance of the funeral home, their faces etched with grief. Rosa embraced him tightly, her tears soaking into his shirt. His mother stood nearby, her eyes red and swollen from crying, but she didn't say anything. They hadn't spoken much since Nathan had left for Tokyo, their relationship strained by his decisions. Now, they were united in their shared grief, but the emotional distance between them was palpable.

The wake was a somber affair. Relatives and friends came to pay their respects, offering their condolences to Nathan and his family. He stood by his father's casket, staring down at the man who had raised him, who had taught him so much, who had been his hero for so long. Now, all Nathan could think about were the regrets. The missed opportunities. The things he should have said but never did.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

Abby stood a few feet away, quietly observing, her hands clasped in front of her. Nathan could feel her presence, but he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge her. His mind was consumed by the overwhelming guilt of having let his family slip through his fingers.

Later that evening, after most of the guests had left, Nathan sat alone outside the funeral home. The cool night air provided a brief respite from the suffocating grief that hung over him. He stared up at the stars, his mind swirling with thoughts of his father and the choices he had made over the past year.

Abby joined him, sitting down beside him on the bench. She didn't say anything at first, just sat there in silence, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

"Nathan," she finally said, her voice gentle. "I know this is hard. I'm here for you."

Nathan nodded, though the words felt hollow. He appreciated her support, but the emotional weight he was carrying felt too heavy to share with anyone. Not even Abby.

"I don't know how to fix this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I pushed them away. I pushed him away. And now he's gone."

Abby sighed softly, her gaze fixed on the ground. "You couldn't have known this would happen, Nathan. You can't blame yourself for everything."

"But I do," Nathan said, his voice breaking. "I do blame myself. I left them behind. I let my relationship with my family fall apart, and now it's too late to make things right."

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, feeling the raw pain of his father's absence deep in his chest. "I don't know how to live with this," he whispered.

Abby reached for his hand, but this time, Nathan pulled away. Her touch, once comforting, now felt foreign to him. He wasn't sure why, but in that moment, the distance between them felt more real than ever before.

"Maybe it's not just about your family," Abby said softly, her voice hesitant. "Maybe it's about us too."

Nathan looked at her, the words catching him off guard. "What do you mean?"

Abby's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she spoke. "You've changed, Nathan. We've both changed. And I don't know if we're still the same people we were when we started this relationship."

Nathan felt his heart sink. He had known for some time that things between them were different, but hearing Abby say it out loud made it all the more real.

"I don't know if I can be the person you need right now," Abby continued, her voice trembling. "You're grieving, and you're dealing with so much... but I feel like I'm standing on the outside, looking in. And I don't know how to help you anymore."

Nathan didn't know how to respond. Abby had been his anchor for so long, but now, in the wake of his father's death, he realized that their relationship wasn't as solid as he had once believed. The cracks were showing, and he wasn't sure if they could ever repair the damage.

"I don't know what to do either," Nathan admitted, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I'm lost, Abby. I'm lost, and I don't know how to find my way back."

They sat in silence, the weight of their unspoken words hanging between them. For the first time, Nathan felt truly alone—not just in his grief, but in his relationship with Abby. The tragedy that had brought him closer to his family had also driven a wedge between him and the woman he had once thought he would spend his life with.

And now, as he stared up at the darkened sky, Nathan realized that the path ahead was more uncertain than ever.