Chapter 42

Agonizing seconds went by, then he strode to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. He pinched his eyes closed. But it was his low, tortured admission that clawed her from the inside out.

"I wish it had been me."

The door shut quietly behind him.

Time collapsed and the room vacuumed of oxygen. The longer she stood in the middle of the room, alone and gutted, the more she bled out until she was a numb, vacant shell.

Had she been too quick to forgive him? Was she letting her feelings for him pollute rational thought?

She didn't think so. Aside from failing to tell her about his role in Justin's death, Nate had never lied to her. In fact, getting him to talk about his past, about anything, had been like pulling teeth from a rabid wolf. No one would make up stories like that. Besides, his behavior backed up everything.

What was she supposed to do now? Could she fix it, make him understand? Did he just need space?

Justin. Dear, sweet Justin. That's what she needed. To talk to her brother and gain some clarity, some insight. Then maybe she would know how to approach Nate and figure out what to do.

Heading into the bedroom, she dressed and went downstairs. Bypassing the kitchen where the sounds of Aunt Mae were clinking and clanging, Olivia opened the front door and stepped onto the porch.

Humidity and the scent of hay, of untamed land, bathed her face as she made the hike to the cemetery. Sunlight shone and heated her chilled bones while her shoes crunched on gravel. Eventually reaching her destination, she shut the squeaky gate and knelt at Justin's grave.

"You tricked him into coming to Meadowlark, didn't you?" She sniffed and pulled a couple dandelions from the base of his stone. "I figured it out, little brother. You knew Nate had no one and nothing to go back to once he was discharged, so you put a failsafe in place in case you weren't able to bring him here yourself." She nodded. "Well done."

She sat in the damp grass and crossed her legs. "Except he thinks he's responsible for your death." Her chest hitched and she rolled her lips over her teeth to stave off tears. "You jerk. Why'd you have to go into that building? Huh? You up and left me." Angrily, she wiped her wet cheeks. "All this time, I've been furious at the wrong person. I blamed your superior because it was easier than blaming a dead man." She shook her head. "So much blame to go around. But no one's really at fault, are they? Not even you."

Leaning back, she rested on her hands. "I went down to the creek the day you died. At the time, I didn't know you'd passed yet, but I had this strange urge to go. Nakos threw a fit, of course." She laughed. "I really went to see you, I think. Habit, perhaps. We always met there to play, remember? I crouched by the bank and thought about all the things we'd done and seen, all our memories. Everything we were and could be. And I was angry even then because you'd gone off halfway across the world." She sobered. "So, I went down to the creek to see you, but you weren't there. I suspect a part of me knew you were dead the moment it happened."

She tilted her head. "You broke my heart and I was mad. Have been since we buried you. Survivor's guilt, I suppose." And the situation rammed home. "That's Nate's problem. He was given no sense of self-worth. You befriended him, made him start to view things differently, and then you died on his watch. Now he doesn't know how to deal with the fact that you broke his heart, too. He didn't know he had one."

And there was no doubt. Nathan Roldan had heart. Too much of it. If he didn't, he wouldn't carry such immense remorse around like it was his due. He wouldn't have followed through on a promise to watch over a woman he'd never met. He certainly wouldn't have been willing to evolve from a lifetime of loneliness in order to seek a connection.

Blowing out a sigh, she stood. The visit had done exactly what she'd been hoping it would. "I know sending him here was to help him, but you gave me the bigger gift." She brushed off her pants. "Love you. Say hi to Mom and Dad."

As she strode out of the cemetery, she whispered, "Thank you. I've got it from here."