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Part Fifteen

The doctor assured us that Nate was absolutely fine. A bad hit and exhaustion, he said. They let us take him home Saturday afternoon, with orders to rest, take ibuprofen regularly, and watch for symptoms of a concussion.

I drove carefully, because not only was this the first time I was driving one of the Kellers' expensive cars, but I didn't want to rattle Nate.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes, Evie," Nate quipped, "just like I was five minutes ago."

I nodded and focused in on the road again. I knew Nate was getting frustrated with my hovering, but truthfully I didn't care. I just wanted to make sure he was alright.

I pulled into our big round-about driveway, slowing to park and turning off the car. I fought the urge to help Nate out of the car as I grabbed his hospital-issued bag of belongings from the backseat.

Nate waited at the front door for me to unlock the door. I did it silently and watched as Nate walked through the door and around the corner, headed for his room.

Instinctively, I followed him down the hall, to make sure he got settled in his room. Before I could enter, he slammed the door behind himself. To be fair, I don't think he saw me coming, but the message was clear.

I raised my fist to knock, but decided against it. I dropped my hand to my side and walked away with a sigh; he wanted to be alone right now.

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Over the next day, I barely saw Nate. He stayed holed up in his room, and I seemed to miss him whenever he came out to grab food from the kitchen.

Nate was miserable. I was sympathetic.

My phone rang Sunday around eleven. It was Paisley, so I picked up. I was up in my room, reading my latest novel. It was hardly capturing my attention, so the phone call was no inconvenience.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey, everything okay?" She asked. "You sound. . .tired."

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just. . ." I sighed. "Nate," I finished lamely.

"I thought you said Nate was okay?" Paisley said, her panic jumping.

"Physically, yeah, he's fine. But he's just, like, sad."

"Well, do you think seeing the team would help him? I'm sure the guys have told him that we're all getting together to watch today's Panthers game. I was calling to invite you," she explains.

I laughed. "I don't think Nate's planning on going."

"You should try to convince him. It might be good for him," Paisley suggested.

I agreed to talk to him and said my goodbyes. I decided to wait until he emerged from his room. I hung around the kitchen and ate lunch, but eventually retreated upstairs to take a hot shower and change.

By three o'clock when I still hadn't glimpsed him, I knew it was time for him to come out. I marched up to his door and knocked harshly. When I got no response, I shouted, "C'mon, Nate, I know you're in there. Open up."

There was still no answer, not even a grunt, so I growled and threw open the door. There he was, sitting up in his bed, eating a bag of Doritos, and watching TV.

He only glanced at me before going back to his show. I threw my hands up in frustration, immediately choosing to change my approach. I stormed over to his bed and climb under the covers on the opposite side. Snuggling into his side and grabbing a handful of chips, I turned my attention to whatever god awful war documentary this was.

It pained me to sit there and watch it. I felt myself snoozing in the first minute alone. Luckily, it didn't take long for Nate to question me.

"Evie, what are you doing?"

"Keeping you company," I responded nonchalantly, keeping my eyes on the screen.

"Why?"

I didn't have a response to that. Because I care about you? Because I don't want you to be alone? Because. . . Nothing captured what I was really feeling. So I settled with a shrug and another handful of chips.

Nate reached over, cupping his hand on my cheek and forcing me to look at him. Our faces were inches from each other and I found myself looking at his lips as he spook. "Evie, why are you here? I don't need you to be my mom."

"God," I laughed softly, "the last thing I want to be is your mom." My voice was quiet and I hoped he didn't read too much into the comment. I shook my head, recovering quickly. "I think I need you, Nate." I paused, unsure where I was going with this. "I just. . . I care about you. And I can tell you that 'till I'm blue in the face, but I want to show you. I need to show you, because if we can't show family that we care, nobody in the world would care at all."

"Family?" Nate breathed.

"Well, you are my husband," I joked. "I think that makes us family."

Nate cracked the first smile I've seen since he woke up and I told him they won the game. I reached out and touched the corner of his mouth with my thumb, my palm on his cheek and my fingertips stretching for any skin I could find. "Smiling is a good look for you."

That only made him smile bigger.

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A little short again, but I hope you enjoyed the little moment they had there. 1k reads though! That may not be a lot in comparison to the most popular stories on this site, but it means the world to me. Thank you all for being a part of this :)