36. Nathan

When Avery came out of my bedroom, she shut the door behind her. When she turned to face the hallway, she found me sitting against the wall across from my room.

Her eyes were teary, but she smiled a little. Not the happy kind of smile, though. The kind of smile that broke hearts.

I stood. “You okay?” I asked.

She parted her lips to speak, but instead of words, a small whimper fell from her. She shut her eyes and shook her head as she whispered, “That poor boy.” Her hand covered her mouth as she began to cry, and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me. “It’s not fair.” She quietly cried against my shoulder blade. “It’s not fair.”

We wentinto her bedroom to talk, closing the door behind us. I sat on her bed beside her as she fiddled with her fingers.

“I feel like a shitty person for not paying close enough attention to him after he lost his mom. I think maybe I avoided it because I feared it would unlock some hard emotions within me, and I wasn’t ready to face those feelings. It was selfish of me,” Avery whispered.

“You’re human. You also didn’t know everything that he was going through.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve noticed. I should’ve pieced it all together.”

“You can’t beat yourself up for not knowing, Ave. That’s not fair to anyone. And when he needed you the most tonight, you were there. Those are the moments that matter.”

She sighed and allowed her head to fall against my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her in closer. “I was ten when my mom passed away.”

“You never told me what happened with her.”

“That’s because it’s still one of the hardest things to speak about.” She bit her bottom lip. “She passed away from complications during labor with Willow. I’ll never forget when Daddy told us the news. Our grandmother was staying with us while he was at the hospital with Mama. Yara and I were so excited about having a new sister any time now, yet I didn’t fully understand what it meant when Daddy came home with Willow and without Mama. The look in his eyes will forever be burned into my memory. I remember him setting down in the car seat with sweet Willow resting inside it.

“I remember Grandma’s whimpers as she covered her mouth in disbelief. I remember Yara moving to Willow with a big smile and a bracelet she’d made for our little sister. I remember her asking where Mama was. I remember Daddy crashing down to the floor—just as Cameron did. I remember him calling Yara and me over to him. I remember him telling us he loved us. He kept saying that. He kept saying that he loved us. And then I asked him when Mama was coming home. I asked if she had to stay at the hospital to get better. He just cried more and told me that he loved us so much.”

“I’m so sorry, Avery…” The words fell from my tongue, but they felt empty. Condolences didn’t do much at the end of the day. They didn’t bring back the ones who were lost. They didn’t heal the cracks within one’s spirit.

She wiped her tears. “It was traumatic. On top of that, we had a newborn baby in the house that needed all of Daddy’s attention. He didn’t even get to grieve properly because he knew he still had to raise three daughters.”

“I still think your father is one of the strongest men I’ve ever come across.”

“Oh gosh.” She blew out a big breath. “Everything I know about love, I’ve learned from my father. He’s not even my biological father, but you could never tell me any different. I am his, and he is mine. He’s Superman. He’s the definition of what a real man is, but still, he’s only human. Sometimes, I’d wake up from hearing Willow crying, and I’d sneak into the nursery to find him sitting in the rocking chair, crying tears against her face as he sang her mama’s favorite lullabies. He’d be whispering…” She placed a hand against her heartbeat, shaking her head slowly. “He’d be whispering to her that she was loved, too. So deeply loved and how he was so thankful that she existed.”

I listened to every word Avery said to me that night. Every syllable of her story that she hadn’t shared with me before. I took her in—all of her, all her soul—wanting nothing more than to know every piece that made her into the woman she’d become.

“I avoided Willow for a long time,” she confessed. “I hated her for a while because I thought she was why I no longer had a mother. I blamed her for stealing that from me and for not having a mom to hug each night. For not having a mama to say prayers over me each night before I went to sleep. That was until Daddy came to me one night and asked if I wanted to hold Willow. I told him no. He asked me why, and I told him the truth. I told him that I hated her and wanted nothing to do with her. I saw how that broke his heart.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said Willow was a gift from Mama. That in her eyes, I could see my mother forever. That Willow’s laughs were Mama’s giggles. That her cries were Mama’s tears. He then told me how blessed I was to have known Mama the longest out of all of us. Before Mama was theirs, she was mine alone. Then he told me how special that made me. Because Mama’s imprint was on Willow, yes, but I was covered in Mama’s memories. And he told me how special it would be if I shared that with Willow. If the mama in me could kiss the mama within her. So that very night, when Willow woke up crying, I went to her nursery and held her close to me. I fed her as Daddy stood back and watched me. I kissed her forehead and said the prayers that Mama used to pray over me, over her. From that moment on, Willow was the living image of my mother’s love. I couldn’t believe I avoided her for as long as I did because she was, and still is, something so special. I couldn’t imagine life without her. A world without Willow is like a world without air.”

I grinned, feeling grateful that she shared so much of her story that evening, even though it was probably hard for her to do.

“Sorry,” she blurted out, wiping her tears. “I don’t know why I just told you all that. It kind of poured out. I never pour out my heart like that. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not complaining. Thank you for sharing. I know that’s not the easiest for you.”

“You made it easy tonight.” She smiled gently. “Thank you for listening. I should get some sleep, though. I’m exhausted. I would offer to let you sleep in here, but I don’t want Cameron getting the wrong idea.”

“Understandable.” I kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I got off the bed and started for the door.

“Nathan?” she called.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Cameron will be okay? Do you think he can get through this?”

“I do. He’s strong. And on the days he can’t be, we’ll make sure to be there in his corner. We’re better together.”

Her smile wasn’t heartbreaking anymore. There was a flash of hope resting against her lips this time. “Okay. Good.”

“And Avery?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever need to pour out your heart again, please pour it onto me.”