Chapter 38 "I'll Worry If I Can't Find You"
"Exactly!" Chloe turned her head and glared at him, trying her best to sound authoritative. "Since you agreed to come out with me on Valentine's night, does that mean you're officially my boyfriend?"
Nathan arched a dark eyebrow, taking a slow, deliberate step into her space. "Boyfriend? Oh. So you like me."
Chloe stepped back, her bravado instantly faltering. She swallowed hard, forcing down her habitual instinct to deny it, and hummed softly. "I... I guess so."
"You guess?" Nathan murmured, his lips twitching as he suppressed a smile.
"Y-yes." She rubbed her nose, her voice completely muffled.
Nathan let out a low, genuine laugh, the smug satisfaction he’d been fighting finally breaking across his handsome face. He raised a hand to cover his mouth, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. "But I wasn't really planning on dating anyone during college."
Was she being rejected?
Chloe's heart plummeted straight into her stomach. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, but she forced a bright, brittle smile. "Oh. That's fine. No big deal. Just... keep me in mind when you're ready later."
She spun on her heel, ready to flee and nurse her bruised pride, but Nathan’s hand shot out. He caught her wrist and, with a firm, effortless tug, pulled her right back into his chest.
He tilted his chin down, his tone dripping with a dark, triumphant pride. "I'm not planning to date right now. But if it's you... I might make an exception."
Wait. Chloe's eyes flew wide open. Staring up at his deeply satisfied smile, the realization hit her like a lightning bolt. He had been waiting for this all along! He clearly wanted her, yet he had manipulated the entire situation just to make her crack first!
She turned her head away, her cheeks burning hot as she tried to salvage her dignity. "Hmph. You don't have to force yourself."
Nathan leaned in, his mouth hovering just above her shoulder. "I'm not. You're my girl now, Chloe."
Chloe felt a sudden, flustered flutter in her stomach. "Why are you calling me that?"
Nathan's smile brightened as he reached out and gently tapped the tip of her nose. "Because you are. What else should I call you?"
Chloe thought for a moment, pursing her lips. "You could call me sweetheart, or baby, or little princess... something like that. Other couples use cute names!"
Nathan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "But that's so unoriginal."
"I don't care, you're not allowed to just call me 'your girl' like you own me!" she pouted.
"I'll call you whatever I want," Nathan retorted smoothly. Suddenly, he bent down, his face pressing intimately into the curve of her neck. He whispered directly against the shell of her ear. "My sweet Chloe."
He enunciated each syllable deliberately, his hot breath tickling the soft hair at her nape. She could vividly feel the warmth of his lips hovering mere millimeters from her skin.
A sharp, electric thrill shot straight down her spine.
She had never experienced anything so paralyzingly intimate. Startled by her own body's reaction, she quickly shoved at his chest, playfully scolding him to cover up her racing heart.
He stepped back and watched her, laughing heartily. His smile was so bright, so utterly unburdened, it felt like it could illuminate the entire night sky.
Back then, Chloe had truly believed that this brilliant, beautiful boy would never lose his light. She had imagined them laughing, teasing, and effortlessly sliding into old age together. She hadn't wanted to miss a single minute of his future.
But who could have possibly known that in the blink of an eye, twenty-three years would violently slip through her fingers?
The memory faded into the bitter chill of the morning.
Chloe sat on the edge of a concrete planter box on the busy Chicago street, nursing her coffee and watching the endless flow of commuters. For a dizzying second, she thought she saw nineteen-year-old Nathan standing in the crowd, his eyes full of starlight, smiling at her.
She stared blankly at the phantom for a long moment before shaking her head, gathering her emotions, and walking slowly back toward the apartment building.
Just as she turned onto her street, a sharp, ragged shout ripped through the air. "Chloe!"
She whipped around.
Nathan was striding down the pavement toward her. His expression was a terrifying mask of barely suppressed panic. He didn't have the effortless, sunny smile of his youth. He was rigid, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle ticked in his cheek as he closed the distance with heavy, urgent steps.
As he approached, Chloe saw the sheen of cold sweat dampening the hair at his temples. His chest was heaving beneath his immaculate dark coat.
"Where did you go?" Nathan’s voice was deceptively soft, but the raw, suffocating terror vibrating beneath it was unmistakable. "Didn't we agree you would wait for me at the apartment?"
"I just went down the street for breakfast," Chloe replied, bewildered by his intensity.
Nathan stared at her, his eyes dark and hollow. He closed his eyes, pulling in a ragged, shuddering breath. "Please. Answer your phone next time."
"Huh? You called me?" Chloe quickly dug her smartphone out of her coat pocket.
The screen lit up with fourteen missed calls. All from Nathan.
"That's weird. Why didn't I hear it ring?"
Nathan reached out, his large hand visibly trembling as he took the device from her. "You had it on silent."
"No, I didn't! Where is the mute switch on this thing?" Chloe leaned in closely to watch as Nathan flipped the tiny mechanical switch on the side of the iPhone. When he handed it back, she sighed in frustration. "I must have bumped it by accident. Ugh, modern phones are such a hassle."
"You'll get used to it," Nathan murmured, his eyes locking onto hers with a desperate intensity. "Next time you leave a room, Chloe... tell me."
"Nathan, I just went downstairs for a sandwich—"
"Since we made plans, do not just wander off," Nathan interrupted, his voice cracking, entirely devoid of its usual calm authority. He looked down at her, stripping away his pride. "I will worry if I can't find you. Chloe... I am getting older. I cannot handle this kind of anxiety anymore. Do you understand me?"
Chloe’s breath hitched.
It wasn't just anxiety. It was PTSD. For a terrifying half-hour, he had believed she had vanished into thin air all over again.
A sharp pang of guilt pierced her chest. She lowered her head. "I'm so sorry."
"No need to apologize. It's not your fault." Nathan quickly took the small bag of groceries she had picked up, turning to walk ahead of her. "Let's go back."
"Okay." Chloe hurried to keep pace with his long strides, her heart aching. To lighten the heavy mood, she bumped her shoulder against his arm. "Nathan, will you stop saying you're getting old? Haven't you heard? Men are like fine wine—they get better with age."
"And I suppose you're a connoisseur?"
"In my heart, you will always be the finest vintage," she flirted boldly, looking up at his sharp profile. "Absolutely one of a kind."
Nathan’s jaw tightened. He sidestepped her gently. "Walk properly, Chloe."
"What are you so afraid of?" she challenged, her chin tilting up in defiance. "We made vows before God. It's completely legal for me to flirt with my husband."
A bitter, microscopic smirk touched Nathan’s lips. "Your death certificate legally voided that marriage decades ago."
"So what? We can just go down to City Hall and register again right now. Look at the sky—it's a beautiful day for a wedding."
She chattered relentlessly, weaving her intoxicating presence around him, but Nathan simply pressed his lips into a bloodless line and offered no reply.
Chloe wasn't deterred in the slightest. If she had systematically broken down his impenetrable walls once before, she could absolutely do it again. She knew this man better than anyone. He was just stubborn, trapped in his own trauma, terrified of ruining her life.
With a wicked little smile, she reached out and brazenly hooked her pinky finger around his.
Nathan instantly violently jerked his hand back as if 10,000 volts of electricity had just shot up his arm.
Well, Chloe thought, a triumphant thrill shooting straight to her core. He’s still dangerously sensitive to me.
Twenty minutes later, sitting in the passenger seat of the Bentley as they idled in the morning traffic, Chloe unapologetically stared at him.
When Nathan’s dark, guarded gaze briefly flicked over to her, she flashed him a devastating smile and brazenly blew him a kiss.
Nathan immediately looked away, pretending he hadn't seen a thing. He stared intensely at the academic documents on his tablet, but Chloe noticed his long, elegant fingers swiping the screen just a little too frantically.
She couldn't help the soft, victorious chuckle that escaped her lips.
When the Bentley finally pulled up to the curb outside her agency building, she unbuckled her seatbelt and paused, her hand on the door handle.
"By the way," she said softly, her tone turning serious. "I'm thinking of taking the train back to my hometown in a few days. I need to visit my parents. Are you free to come with me?"
Nathan’s head snapped up.
"I'll go with you," he replied instantly, his voice a low, absolute command that brokered no argument.
He had spent twenty-three years drowning in the agonizing, suffocating regret that he had let her take that exact trip alone. He would burn the world to the ground before he ever let her travel without him again.