Chapter 167 What Passes for Normal

Chapter 167 What Passes for Normal
Nate’s POV

The elevator chimed as it reached the penthouse floor.

I stepped out, loosening my tie with one hand. The day had been long—meetings, calls, a terse conversation with the board, and a message from my mother that I hadn’t opened yet. I didn’t need to. I knew the tone. I knew the threat tucked between every syllable she used.

But none of that mattered the moment I unlocked the door.

Mila was curled on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, her phone resting on the cushion beside her. She looked up when I entered, her expression tight in a way I recognized instantly.

Something was wrong.

I shut the door behind me. “What happened?”

She hesitated. That was new. Mila didn’t hesitate with me unless she was bracing for impact.

“Eliza called,” she said.

I hung my coat on the hook, watching her carefully. “Is she okay?”

“She’s… better,” Mila said. “She’s been seeing someone.”

I froze mid‑step.

“Seeing someone,” I repeated.

“Not seriously,” she said quickly. “Just coffee. Talking. He’s in her Child Psych class.”

I sat on the arm of the chair across from her, elbows on my knees. “What’s his name?”

“Caleb Miller.”

A normal name. A forgettable name. A name that could belong to anyone.

Or anything.

“She wants to go out with him,” Mila continued. “A modest night out. Her words.”

I nodded once, slowly. “And you’re worried.”

“I’m… cautious,” she said. “She’s excited. And I want her to have something good. But she asked me to go with her.”

I raised an eyebrow. “With her?”

“She wants a double date.”

I stared at her.

She stared back.

“You’re joking,” I said.

“I’m not.”

A double date. With a stranger. With a man I didn’t know. With a man stepping into the space Gavin had left behind—messy, raw, unresolved.

“And she wants you to come,” Mila added. “With me.”

I leaned back, exhaling slowly. “She spent ten minutes telling you how much she needs normal, and then she asked you to bring me.”

“I pointed that out,” Mila said. “She didn’t care.”

Of course, she didn’t. Eliza was loyal, but she was also nineteen. Hurt. Lonely. Trying to stitch her life together with whatever thread she could find.

“She said she wants it to feel safe,” Mila added quietly.

That part landed.

I rubbed my jaw, thinking. “When?”

“Saturday night.”

I nodded once. “Fine.”

Mila blinked. “Fine?”

“Yes.”

She looked almost surprised. “I thought you’d say no.”

“I’m not letting you go anywhere with a man I haven’t vetted,” I said simply. “Especially not now.”

Her shoulders relaxed a little, but her eyes stayed wary. “Nate… he’s normal.”

“There’s no such thing,” I said. “Not in this city. Not in our orbit.”

She didn’t argue. She knew better.

I stood, pulling my phone from my pocket. “I’ll handle it.”

“Nate—”

“I’m not asking Gavin,” I said before she could finish. “This isn’t his lane anymore.”

Her expression flickered—sadness, guilt, something else—but she didn’t push.

I scrolled to Theodore’s number and hit call.

He answered on the second ring. “Salvatore.”

“I need a favor,” I said.

“I figured,” he replied. “You only call when you’re about to do something stupid.”

“Not yet,” I said. “But I need something.”

“That’s usually step one of stupid.”

I glanced at Mila. She was watching me, knees tucked to her chest, fingers curled around the cushion.

“I need you to run a background check on a Caleb Miller,” I said. “Community college student. Child Psych elective. I want to know everything.”

There was a pause — not obedient, not hesitant, just Theodore processing.

“Everything?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

Another pause. Longer. I could practically hear him raising an eyebrow.

“This about Eliza?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And Gavin?”

“No.”

He exhaled, not annoyed — thoughtful. “You do realize ordinary men walk the earth, right? They’re not mythical.”

“Not in our orbit.”

“That’s fair,” he said. “But you do realize you’re asking me to dig into a guy who probably still uses his mom’s Netflix account.”

“I’m aware.”

“And you’re asking me instead of Gavin because…?”

“Because Gavin doesn’t need this right now.”

Theodore was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice had shifted — less teasing, more grounded.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll look into him.”

“Tonight.”

“Yeah, Nate, I assumed you didn’t mean next month.”

I huffed out a breath — almost a laugh. “Good.”

“Nate,” he added, tone dropping, “is this precaution or paranoia?”

“Both,” I said. “Given the circumstances.”

He didn’t argue. He didn’t need me to list them — my mother’s plotting, Vane’s shadow games, Duane’s unpredictability, the constant hum of danger threading through our lives like a live wire.

“Text me anything you find,” I said.

“I will,” he said. “And Nate?”

“What?”

“If this guy turns out to be painfully normal, you owe me dinner. A good one. Not one of your ‘I’m too stressed to taste anything’ dinners.”

I shook my head. “We’ll see.”

He snorted. “That means yes.”

I hung up.

Mila was still watching me, her expression unreadable.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly.

“Yes,” I said. “I did.”

She looked down at her hands. “He seems nice.”

“They always seem nice,” I said. “Until they aren’t.”

“That’s cynical.”

“It’s realistic.”

She didn’t argue. She just pulled her knees tighter, her hair falling forward over her shoulder.

I walked over and sat beside her, close enough that our knees brushed. She didn’t pull away.

“You’re doing this for Eliza,” she said.

“I’m doing this for you,” I corrected. “Eliza is part of your world. Anyone who steps into it becomes my concern.”

She swallowed. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix everything.”

“I don’t,” I said. “But I will protect what matters.”

Her eyes softened, just a little. “Thank you.”

I leaned back against the couch, stretching my arm along the backrest behind her. “Tell me more about him.”

She shrugged. “He’s normal.”

“That’s not information.”

“He likes dinosaurs.”

I stared at her.

She laughed. “I’m serious. He doodles them in his notebook.”

I shook my head. “Fantastic. A man with crayons.”

“He works at a hardware store,” she added. “Part‑time.”

“Does he have a record?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s why I called Theodore.”

She sighed, but she didn’t fight me. She knew better than to try.

We sat in silence for a moment, the city lights flickering through the windows, the hum of the penthouse settling around us.

“You’re really going to go,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“With me.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not… upset?”

“I’m not thrilled,” I said honestly. “But I’m not upset.”

“Why not?”

“Because Eliza needs this,” I said. “And you need her to have it.”

She looked down again, her fingers brushing mine where our hands rested on the couch.

I didn’t move.

Saturday night.

A diner by the river.

Caleb Miller.

Eliza Jones.

Mila beside me.

I didn’t trust it.

I didn’t trust him.

I didn’t trust anything that called itself normal.

But I trusted Mila.

And that was enough.

For now.