Rebecca closed her eyes when she heard the front door open, tilting her head back to rest it on the cold wall of the bathroom. Relief flooded through her, then self-disgust, then sadness, repeat.
Am I ever going to be strong enough to deal with things even kind of normally?
Two hours ago she'd felt great. Nathaniel had a business dinner to go to, and she loved the fact that he didn't mind her hanging at his apartment while he was out - in fact he'd made sure she knew how much he liked knowing she'd be there when he came home.
When she'd seen that he'd left his phone on the kitchen bench, she'd been okay for about three minutes before she started to spiral.
"Rebecca?"
It had been a long while since she'd hated herself this much.
"Rebecca? You still here?"
The bathroom door opened, and at Nathaniel's quick intake of breath she opened her eyes but she couldn't bring herself to look at him, instead ducking her head and staring at the tiles by her leg. "Rebecca?" he asked carefully, his voice tense. "Are you okay?"
Despite how obvious it must have been, she didn't want to admit that no, so absolutely was not. "One of your tiles had a crack in it," she said dully instead, tracing along it with the tip of her finger.
He stood silently at the door for a moment longer, then stepped slowly across the bathroom. "I can't say I've noticed," he said casually, lowering himself onto the floor in front of her and leaning back against the opposite wall.
She didn't move away when his knee bumped gently against hers, but she wasn't sure she deserved the comfort. "Don't spend too much time on the floor in your bathroom, huh?"
"Not really."
Letting her hand drop back into her lap, her eyes moved from the cracked tile to where Nathaniel's phone sat on the floor a few feet away. She'd moved it out of reach, as though that would stop her snooping. She hadn't gone that far but the longer he'd stayed out, the harder the urge had been to ignore.
"I left my phone at home," he said, stating the obvious after following her gaze. "I guess you know that."
The wariness in his voice made her feel sick. "I have... not had a good night," she admitted.
"I'm sorry."
Groaning loudly, she banged her head against the wall and then finally looked at him. The only thing in his eyes was concern, and it just made her feel worse. "No, don't you dare be sorry. This is not on you."
"Talk to me, then," he pleaded, reaching out to her. "Let me in."
She didn't take his hand, and after a moment he let it drop. She didn't deserve his kindness, but she didn't want to push him away either. Her earlier panic had dwindled, and now she was just sad, sad and hopeless. "How can we have a normal relationship if this is what happens to me every time you forget you phone?" she asked suddenly, throwing her hands up. She couldn't deal with this kind of emotional turmoil every time something like this happened, and he definitely deserved someone a lot more stable than her.
"Hey, it's ok," he said, raising his eyebrows and leaning in, but she rolled her eyes at him.
"But it's not ok! I had twelve different arguments with you while you were gone, each one bigger and stupider than the last."
He looked at her evenly for a few seconds, and then nodded firmly. "Well, give it to me then."
She frowned at him, not understanding. "What?"
He shrugged at her, as though it were obvious. "What's your first argument?"
She felt... off-kilter. Why would he humour this? Why wasn't he irritated and pissed and kicking her out? "That's dumb," she said slowly, not entirely sure he meant what he said. Or that he knew what he was getting himself in for.
Leaning back again, he relaxed against the wall. "I don't care," he said simply. "I can take it."
She didn't want to put herself back into the mindset that she'd been in earlier, but it came to her so easily. She realised she was scowling at him as her earlier feelings flooded through her, and she sunk her teeth into her lower lip, struggling against the anxiety that was growing stronger inside her as she tried to find the words. She hated where her mind had gone so easily, was sure that once she'd told him what she'd thought that he would break up with her instantly.
His eyes told her to trust him. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she gathered her courage. "You were meeting up with someone. With a woman. You're having an affair and didn't want me to track you by your phone."
Nathaniel frowned, then he straightened his expression. "Rebecca," he said calmly, firmly. "You're the only woman I want."
She swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat, pressing her lips together. He sounded confident, but that was barely the start. "Maybe you left your phone by mistake, but then you met a hot girl while you were out."
His eyes did not leave hers, didn't even waiver. "You're the only woman I want."
"But maybe you met hot twins while you were out -"
She stopped when his eyebrows shot up halfway to his hairline, unmistakable amusement playing around his lips. "Okay, now that's getting ridiculous," he said. "But still, Rebecca, and I mean it." His face became serious again, his voice dropping. He leaned forward again, reaching out to put his hand on her leg just above her knee, and this time she didn't shake it off. "You're the only woman I want."
He spoke with such raw honesty that her chest tightened. Her lip trembled slightly, and his brow furrowed in response. How much before he'd had enough? She sank lower against the wall, unable to meet his eyes as she told him the hardest one. "You just wanted to get away from me," she said to the floor, her voice as small as she felt. "You were going to just… not come back."
Pressing the back of her hand against her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut, not quite believing that she'd just told him her worst fear. Everyone left her – that's just how it was. He was definitely leaving now - she clearly had too many hang-ups to deal with, right?
"Rebecca," he said sadly, and at the sound of his voice her breath escaped her in a dry sob. She blindly reached out for him before she knew what she was doing and he was there for her instantly, taking her hand and pulling her forward. She climbed awkwardly onto his lap, their legs twining together, his arms wrapping around her tightly.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said into her hair. "You hear me? I know who you are, Rebecca, and you're not scaring me off."
She pressed her face against his neck in response, unable to find her voice, but he only tightened his arm around her, his other hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly. When she finally managed to get her breathing even, she shifted slightly in his arms, and he loosened his grip slightly but thankfully didn't let her go. Sighing, she moved her head back to rest it on his shoulder, her fingers playing idly with the buttons of his shirt.
"You know what I didn't do?" she said eventually, hanging onto the one good thing in this situation. "I didn't follow you. I knew where you'd said you were going to be. I could have done it, was so close to doing it, but I stayed here and waited." She hesitated and then admitted the rest. "I was too afraid of not seeing you there."
"I can show you my credit card receipt if you like?" he said lightly. "I saved it for the expense account so it's in my wallet."
He should be rolling his eyes, pushing her away, kicking her out. Instead, he was sitting on his bathroom floor, holding her against him, having successfully both talked her down and also made her open up to him. Somehow, he still wanted to be here with her.
Somehow, she actually felt better. A little. She pressed her lips to the smooth skin of his neck. "Thank you."
He didn't reply, just pressed his warm lips to the top of her head, and that was enough.
