Nate (A Texas Jacks Novel) (35 page)

I
FEEL LIKE
I
’M MARCHING
to the beat of a dying drum, while life passes me by. Nate’s still being distant, and now we go out even less.
If that were even possible.
He still calls and checks in with me, or sends quick texts to make sure all is right in my world, though I want to tell him so badly that it’s not. That nothing is okay anymore. I know he’s trying to hold on to what little of this so-called relationship is left. But the sad thing is—I don’t even know what sent this sweet, loving, caring, and funny man in the direction that he has us on. He has one drunken episode, and the next day he starts putting me on the backburner? It doesn’t seem like Nate. And, once again, I’m back to being a wallflower, suffering a lonely existence. I’m too depressed lately to do much of anything, let alone visit my family, and it’s rare that I miss them for anything. I haven’t seen much of the girls lately, either—though that’s mainly due to my own fault. I definitely haven’t chatted with the guys, as they are Nate’s territory. No way do I want to step on a landmine in that house and watch it blow to smithereens.

I’m scared that soon, there won’t be a ‘Nate and I’ left to pick up the pieces. He’s put up a barrier between us, but there are still times when he’s sweet and loving towards me. I know he has no true desire to hurt me, or be so mean through his actions, but he has changed, and he’s not willing to share the reason why. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it all centers on the night he unknowingly talked so openly with me. I know he doesn’t remember what happened, though he thinks his sister talked to me about something secretive. But now? I’m starting to wonder if he actually recalls what was said, and he’s angry that he let it slip.
I mean, what else could it be?
If he doesn’t remember telling me anything, he wouldn’t be acting this way toward me.

One would think he would eventually want to tell me about his family, and past.
Right?
I’m basically his girlfriend, even if I haven’t been given the official stamp that says I am. I only know that I’m at my wit’s end now. It’s at the point where I can’t sit back as the quiet mouse anymore. I know I have to do something to draw him out from this thundercloud he’s living under. All I want to do is to be there for him like he’s been there for me, pulling me out from my shell, and making me feel so alive.

And to make matters worse, for the last two weeks, just about every day when I turn on my car’s radio, I hear these words coming out of my speakers:
“Say something, I’m giving up on you.”
So today, when I get in my car to head home from work, it’s no different, and the nagging words yet again flow from the speakers, bouncing around in my head.

My eyes start to water, and I wonder, is this what Nate is doing?
Is he finally giving up on us?
My heart races every time I hear these words, knowing the truth of them. I know the time is now or never to finally say something to him.
Wasn’t he always there, prodding me along, and making me open up
?
Wasn’t he the one who worried over me when my car broke down, when I had water blisters, or other medical needs? He’s been my rock, and what have I’ve been for him
? I’m more like his quicksand, not holding out my hand to help once it was bitten the first time. I’ve quietly stayed in the background, giving him space and time to heal so he can come to terms that we are okay, but not questioning anything. I now know that was very wrong of me. I can’t even use the excuse of little dating experience for my blunder. There is really no excuse at all.

At first, my mind had whirled with the age-old relationship questions of:
Is he not happy with me? Is he tired of having to pull me out from the recesses of my shy self?
I thought we were doing great, and I had opened up so much more to him than I ever had before. Now, I know better. I know it’s not me that doesn’t make him happy. I know for a fact that I do. I just need to find a way to ground him, and bring him back to me.

These are the thoughts I have on my mind when I pull into my spot at the apartment complex. I turn off the engine, pull the keys from the ignition, and lay my head back against the seat rest. I close my eyes and let the tears flow down my face, wondering when I’ll see Nate next.

I don’t know how much time has passed since I’ve been sitting in my car when I realize that the sun is going down and here I am, crying in the driver’s seat for the whole world to see. I fumble for my purse on the passenger’s seat and turn to unlock my car door to climb out. Just as I’m about to get out of the car, my phone starts to ring. I look at the caller ID and see that it’s Nate.

I quickly dry my eyes on the back of my shirtsleeves and clear my throat, then answer the phone, trying to sound like I haven’t been crying.

“Hi, cowboy. How was your day?” I greet him, feeling relieved that my voice didn’t give me away. I decide that I need to help get us back to
us
, and invite him over so we can talk, have dinner, and work it out. I’m feeling wholly optimistic about the outcome.

“Hey, Charlie. My day wasn’t too bad,” he replies. “Just calling to make sure you made it home from work okay.”

“Yes, I’m home. I was just getting ready to head in to the apartment,” I tell him, and then realize here’s my opening to see him. Closing my eyes and crossing my fingers, I ask, “Would you like to come over? I can make us dinner, and we chat for a little while—I miss you,” I add at the end in a whisper.

There’s a little bit of hesitancy on Nate’s part before he tells me, “I miss you, too. I would love to come over tonight, but I already have plans to hang out with the guys.”

My eyes start to water again, and I don’t even try to hold them back. I let them silently roll down my cheeks and quietly say, “Oh. Okay.” Then rush the rest out before I turn into a chicken. “That’s fine. I hope you have a good time with the guys. Make sure you tell them hello for me.”

“Charlie, are you—”

But he doesn’t even get to finish that statement, because I cut him off and calmly keep talking. “It’s okay, go out and have fun with the guys and be safe. Listen, Nate, I’m sitting in my car, it’s getting late, and I really would like to get inside. I’ll text you later to see how you all are doing. I’ve gotta go. Bye!” I quickly hang up the phone before he can even get one more word in.

I don’t want to hear any other excuses, or suffer through the strain that will surely be mixed into our conversation now. Maybe I can’t be the strong one in the group. I’m beyond tired and filled with worry, wondering what his problem is—though I now believe I know what the deal is. He won’t talk about it when I try to, and it’s getting exhausting. I’m starting to feel that it’s up to Nathan at this point to let me in on the world’s best kept secret, the one that’s tampering with our relationship. I can make calculated guesses all I want, but I need confirmation. For tonight, though, I knew I couldn’t sit there one more moment and listen to the awkwardness and lame excuses, let alone anything else he had to say. I need my sanity back. I want my happy existence back. I might even want my fuddy-duddy life back, the one I had before he came in and destroyed me.

I can’t sit here any longer, either, with tears falling unchecked down my face. Taking a deep, calming breath, I get out of the car and walk up to my apartment. I barely get the door unlocked when I get a text. I look down and see it’s from Nate. I don’t even want to know what it says, so I completely ignore it as I walk into my place, shutting and locking the door behind me.

Once inside, I stand in the middle of my apartment, staring off into space. I can’t really decide what to do at the moment.
Stay here and wallow in self-pity, or go for a drive and try to calm my mind?
There
has to
be away to fix us, even if Nathan doesn’t seem to want that. My phone chimes again just as I decide it would be best to get out of here. Looking down at my phone again, I see it’s Naomi, and I just don’t have the heart to talk to anyone right now, so I push
ignore
, turn back around, and leave my apartment.

Charlie says goodbye on the phone and hangs up immediately, not even giving me the chance to say it back to her. I feel like a jerk, as I have for many weeks now. I know she’s upset, but trying valiantly to hide it. I hate it when she cries; it always gets to me. Right now, I’m so conflicted. I want to give her my whole heart, and to think of our future, but at the same time, it scares me to death.

I decide that the best thing I can do at this moment is to send her a text, letting her know that I’m really sorry, and I’ll call her later to see when she’s free, then hit
send
. I wait for a few minutes but she doesn’t reply, causing me to let out a heavy breath.

At this very moment, I feel like stomping on my own heart, or at least what’s left of it. A part of me wants to tell the guys I’ve got something to do, and race over to see her. I want to scoop her up, hold her tight in my arms, and promise her it will be all right, and that we’re going to make it.

But it’s not what I do. Instead, I call out to the guys, “Get a move on, or I’m leaving you high and dry. I think you know Pete and Repeat, don’t you?”

I hear a laugh, and someone throws his balled up, dirty socks at me from down the hall. I jump out of the path of the stinky ammunition coming my way, then head to the bathroom to shower and get ready to leave.

Holt and Tucker finally called a truce on their attitude towards me, and we’re starting to get along. I’m glad it didn’t last too long, though I know they secretly hide ill feelings towards me in regards to me dodging Charlie, and the whole mess of our relationship. I appreciate that they’re more or less staying out of it, though.

It’s an hour later when Holt, Tucker, and I all climb in my truck and head to
Texas Jacks
. We decided it was a good night to hustle some out-of-towners at the pool tables. Heck,
anything
is better at this point than thinking about Charlie and what she’s feeling. I’m not trying to be a jerk, here. I just know that once I really start to think about it, my conscience will eat at me. Then I’ll be hauling my tail over to her place and begging for forgiveness over distancing myself from her.

I let out an inward sigh and pull into the parking lot of our favorite haunt. We climb out of the truck and head to the doors, where I spot Dave. He’s looking at me with narrowed eyes, and is definitely not too pleased to see me. I’m not sure what his deal is, or why he’s looking at me like he wants to take me out back and kick the ever-loving stuffing out of me. I nudge Holt’s arm saying, “If I go missing later tonight, look in the back parking lot. I’m thinking Dave has plans for me that I don’t want to be a part of.”

Holt looks over at Dave, then back to me, and lets out a small laugh as we get up close and personal with Mr. Snake Eyes himself.

“Dave, what’s shaking?” Tuck asks. “It looks like you’re about to incinerate my pal over here with that look you’ve got going on. Did he do something that warrants the death stare you’re giving him?” Tucker decides to jump into the situation, in case Dave wants to blast me straight to heaven.

Dave just shakes his head at me and says, “If you don’t know why I’m seriously pissed at you, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.” Then he stamps our hands and tells us to get lost before moving on to the next group in line.

Well, that was interesting. What’s his deal, anyway?

We make it past the doors and over to the pool tables when Holt notices Halley and Naomi hanging out at one of the tables by the dance floor. He decides to wave them over to hang out. When the ladies see us, they smile and get up to head our way.

“What are the Three Stooges up to tonight?” Halley asks Holt, giving me a narrow-eyed look.

“Just a few rounds of pool, my dear,” he tells her as he wraps his arms around her, kissing the side of her temple. “Care to throw down some of your own wages against us? We can play gents against the ladies.”

“I think Naomi and I will sit back and just enjoy watching the game, while admiring the view.” She gives him her best smug smile before she slaps him on the behind, which makes Holt grin like a fool, causing all of us to burst into laughter. Thankfully, they don’t say anything about Charlie, and all move toward the pool tables.