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Chapter Eight

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Ellie

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Description automatically generated with low confidence

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AS HE FOLLOWED ME INTO the house, I tried not to let my surprise show on my face. How the hell did he know this place better than I did? It didn’t make any sense.

But then, at the same time, what could I expect? He had spent more time here than I had, of course he knew where the spare key was, all of that. I was the incomer here, the person stepping into this world after so long away, and I couldn’t believe how obvious I was making it. I needed to get my shit together and start acting like her daughter instead of a random visitor to the house who hadn’t been here in years.

As I stepped into the hallway and looked around, I felt a stab of nostalgia at my chest. This place held so many memories I had done my best not to think of for the last ten years or so. I had walked through that door every single day when I came back from school, and I called out to my mom to let her know I was back. Sometimes, she would reply, sometimes, she would be out at work, earning to provide for us. Those days I had the house to myself, it felt empty, echoing, almost, as though there was so much I didn’t understand hidden in the corners.

Ever since my dad passed, she had done everything she could to keep this place a happy family home. I could remember my father—I had been six when he’d died—but barely. The most memories I had of him were in the images that lined the walls in the entrance room, all the way up to the stairs. Him holding me as a baby, lifting me on to his shoulders as a toddler. I had my hands in his hair in one of the photos, hanging on to him for dear life as I grinned that gummy smile, and it always made my heart hurt to see myself like that. To know there was so much of my life with him I had never gotten to live.

Other pictures, newer ones, stood with them too—of the times I had flown my mother out to see me when I was travelling abroad, the trips we’d taken to Thailand, France, Italy. It had been a while since I had managed to get her anywhere, though, and I wondered if her condition was a part of it.

I led Nate through to the living room so we could start there, not wanting to linger too long outside in case he started asking questions about the pictures I was looking at. He likely already knew the answers anyway, didn’t he? If he knew my mother as well as he seemed to. It was strange to imagine him with such a good grasp of everything that had happened in my life when I had never so much as met this guy before. I found it a little unsettling, actually, but I pushed it down. Maybe we would get to know each other on a deeper level as it was, and I would be able to share this with him myself.

Shit, why was I already thinking about him like that? I barely knew this guy. And I doubted he wanted much more than to come in, get this done, and get out again. He was the only doctor in this town, he probably had a million more maladies and injuries he needed to deal with.

As I headed to the living room, I sucked in a sharp breath. Yeah, this place...it wasn’t looking as good as I remembered it. I could still recognize it as the place I had spent so many evenings, splayed out on the floor, watching TV while I pretended to do my homework, but honestly? It was falling to bits.

“You see what I’m talking about?” Nate asked pointedly, as though he could tell what was going through my head. I sighed, nodded.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think I do.”

While the place was as clean and tidy as it could be, the wear and tear was showing. The windows were covered with dust and cobwebs, and I doubted it would be too easy to open them now to let the air in. Some of the wallpaper was peeling away from the wall, showing a large amount of damp on the wood behind it. A pile of books propped up my mom’s chair precariously, just a few inches away from falling over if the wrong weight was applied at the wrong time. I had been so caught up in my memories when I had come here, I hadn’t been able to see the reality of it, which was making itself painfully clear in front of me now.

Nate stood behind me, and I could feel the judgement coming off of him in waves. I didn’t even want to look at him. He must have been wondering how long it had been since I had been back here, even just to check on the state my mother was living in.

But he had seen the pictures on the walls, right? He had seen that I had taken her out of here. I just...hadn’t thought to come back myself. I had imagined the house was still the same way I had left it after all those years, even though, in my heart of hearts, I must have known it couldn’t be. How could I believe that? How could I have left myself trust in the thought it would work out that easy? I wished I could roll back the clock so I could return a little sooner, and make sure my mother didn’t have to live like this for as long as she had. It was a miracle she hadn’t had a fall or done something else to hurt herself sooner.

I turned to Nate. I needed to defend myself. I could only imagine what was going through his head right now, about what a negligent daughter I must have been.

“I know it looks bad, but I really didn’t know,” I blurted out to him, shaking my head. “I—I'm sorry I didn’t come back sooner, but I thought she was okay, I thought she was keeping the house and everything—”

“Hey, it’s all right,” Nate interrupted, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. I took a deep breath. I was nearly in tears.

His touch soothed me a little, bringing me back down to Earth and reminding me why he was here. He wasn’t here to judge me, to tell me I was a terrible daughter and warn me off ever even trying to help. He was here because he wanted to make a difference, and ensure my mother didn’t wind up back in his office anytime soon.

He moved his hand from my arm, and looked around again.

“There’s a lot that needs to be done here,” he told me, and I nodded.

“I know,” I replied. I felt as though I was being chastised, and fairly so. I had no defense for the way things were here. I was her only daughter—now, at least—and I had to make certain I took care of her. I had been so caught up in my own life I had failed at that, and I hated myself for it. Hated how it made me feel. Hated the thought that something worse could have happened to her, and I might not have been able to stop it, because I was so distracted by my own life I didn’t have time to consider what hers looked like.

“I don’t even know where to start.” I sighed as I stepped out of the living room and looked up the stairs. The bannisters were peeling with paint, and covered in dust. It was clear she hadn’t been able to look after them in a while, and I had no doubt the wood was starting to rot. The house I’d grown up in was a shadow of its former self, and I hated the thought of my mother suffering and struggling to keep it working properly. While I had been off trotting around the world, thinking nothing had changed, that this place would be exactly the same when I got back here.

“There are a few things to consider, but I think the most important is re-doing the staircases and fixing them up,” he explained, stepping close to me and looking at the steps in front of me. He reached out to touch the wood, and I noticed the muscles flexing in his arms beneath his t-shirt. I averted my eyes quickly; last thing I needed was to get distracted by how cute he was. Did he weightlift as well as doing all his doctor-y stuff? His body was crazy.

“So where do I get help for that?” I asked, biting my lip and shaking my head. “I don’t know who I should go to.”

“I can give you a hand, if you like,” he replied. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I thought you were a doctor,” I pointed out.

“I have some other skills too,” he replied, flashing me a grin. I tried to ignore the little flutter in my chest when he smiled at me. Outside of his office, there was something so sweet about him, almost playful. Even in a situation like this one, he seemed to be able to handle himself, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how good his arms looked in that tee.

“Oh, really?” I replied.

“Yeah, I did some construction stuff back in high school,” he replied, with a shrug. “I’m pretty sure I could handle everything that needs to be done here without much trouble. The lion’s share of it, anyway.”

“I wouldn’t want you to let it get in the way of anything else,” I replied, but truthfully, as soon as he said that, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I wouldn’t have to go insane trying to find out what I was looking for here, work out who was trying to rip me off and who could actually get the job done. If he was really offering—and really meant it—I would take him up in an instant.

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t think I could handle it,” he pointed out. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I can handle this. And I can make sure you’re not overpaying for work here, too.”

“That would be amazing,” I replied, biting my lip and smiling at him gratefully. “Thank you. Really.”

“You don’t have to thank me yet,” he laughed. “I haven’t done anything. I might bring the house done with one misplaced screw.”

“Is that likely?” I replied, and he grinned a little wider.

“I hope not.”

I laughed. He had seemed a little uptight back at his office, but maybe I had been getting the work version of him. This one, the one in a tee and jeans and wearing a big-ass smile, seemed a little different.

“I’ll drop in after work tomorrow, we can start talking about what we need to get done,” he suggested, and I nodded.

“That would be great,” I agreed. Thank goodness for this guy, honestly. I don’t know what I would have done without his help. All of this felt so overwhelming, everything that needed to be done piling on top of me beyond anything I could control, but he had come in here and made it all a little easier, and I was grateful for it.

“Thanks for coming today,” I told him. “I’ll let my mom know you were here, and that you’re going to be back. She’ll be glad to hear it.”

“You make sure she rests and doesn’t do too much,” he warned me. “If I come back here and find her on her feet, I’m not going to be happy.”

“I’ll do what I can,” I promised him. “But she’s a stubborn lady. When she gets it into her head she’s going to do something, it’s impossible to get rid of the idea.”

“You two have that in common?” he asked.

“I’m nowhere near as bad as her,” I protested. He tipped his head to the side.

“You sure about that?”

I wasn’t sure what to reply to him. Was he flirting with me? It felt a little like he was, and I would have been lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it more than I should have. There was something about the way his eyes lingered on me that made my heart beat a little faster, and I knew I needed to get him out of here before I did something I couldn’t undo.

“So you’ll be back tomorrow?” I asked, changing the subject as I opened the door to him. I had to brush past him, and I could smell his aftershave—something deep and woody, like mountain air mixed with delicious masculinity.

“As soon as I’m done with work,” he promised. “I’ll see you and Celeste soon, okay?”

“See you soon,” I replied. I stood there and watched as he walked out to his car. It wasn’t until he climbed in and closed the door behind him I realized I had been holding my breath the whole time.

Holding in the scent of him in my senses.