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With Me In Seattle: Fight With Me Part 19

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"I was going to pop in and see the baby, say congratulations, and then head in to work."

"Working night s.h.i.+ft?" I ask.

"Yeah, I picked up some extra s.h.i.+fts." He stands and helps me to my feet. "Feel better?"

"I do, thanks. I'm going to go home and sleep off this weird mood."

"Okay, drive safe, bean."



"You too." I kiss his cheek and head for home.

My bed feels delicious. And empty. I settle in, ready to go to sleep early, and grab my phone. Should I call Nate and apologize for being a raging b.i.t.c.h, or just text him and talk to him tomorrow?

I choose to text and think up a really nice way to apologize when I see him.

I'm home. Baby and mom are healthy.

I lay back and start to drift when my phone pings.

Ok Ok? That's it? I frown. This is not the Nate I know and have grown to love. He's p.i.s.sed off at me, and when I think back to the way I spoke to him, I don't blame him. He was just worried about me, after all.

I decide to call him and apologize. He answers on the second ring.

"h.e.l.lo, Julianne." I don't like the cold tone of his voice.

"Hi," I murmur.

"Hi."

"Nate, I'm sorry about earlier. I really am."

I hear him sigh, and I feel even more guilty, knowing how much stress he has on him over work, and I know I made him even more worried today, and hurt his feelings. And I love him, I don't want to hurt him.

"I think we need to discuss a few things tomorrow night." Oh, so apology not accepted.

"Okay," I whisper and hear him sigh again. "I miss you."

"Do you."

G.o.d, I really screwed up.

"Yes."

Silence.

"Please say something."

"What do you want me to say?" he asks.

"I don't know." I feel tears threatening again, and I try to keep them out of my voice. "I just don't want you to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad. I'm disappointed and hurt, Julianne. That's twice that you've managed to hurt my feelings."

"I didn't want to hurt you, Nate. Today was hard, and I didn't know how to deal with it."

"Like I said, we have some things to talk about tomorrow. I'd rather we didn't do it over the phone. I need to see your face."

"Why?"

"Because you're too good at trying to hide what you're feeling behind that bada.s.s persona of yours, but your eyes don't lie."

Holy s.h.i.+t.

"I am not lying to you, Nate. I miss you and I'm sorry that I was a b.i.t.c.h today."

"Don't ever call yourself a b.i.t.c.h again." Jesus! I can't say anything right!

"I'm going to let you go, this isn't getting us anywhere. Do you need a ride from the airport tomorrow night?"

"No."

"Are you going to come to my place?"

"No, come to my place after work."

"I don't have a key."

"Yes you do."

Huh?

"I do?"

"Yes, check your key ring. I put it on there last weekend." His voice is softer now and I'm shocked.

"Oh."

"I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Julianne."

Chapter Seventeen.

This has been the day from h.e.l.l. I was late to work this morning, after sleeping like the dead last night and through my alarm. Mrs. Glover was not pleased to see me this morning, but when I explained what happened, and showed her the photos of baby Olivia on my phone, she softened up a bit and said she understood.

Thank goodness.

Not that she's my boss, but I do not want to make an enemy of her.

Nate has been in constant communication with me all day, sending emails requesting doc.u.ments or research to be done, but nothing at all personal. As soon as I got to my office this morning, I opened the doc.u.ment I had Jenny email to Nate yesterday, and was stunned to see that Nate was right. It was half-done, and riddled with mistakes. It was not the final draft I'd finished, saved and attached to the email to go out to him. I don't know what the f.u.c.k happened, but I hope that the extra work I've put in this morning has helped straighten the mess out.

I feel s.h.i.+tty for making Nate think that our relations.h.i.+p isn't important to me. Of course it is. But there are times that he's just so... bossy. I know he's a strong, intelligent man, and that he wants to protect me and care for me, but I've always been so fiercely independent, I forget that I'm no longer a "me" and part of a "we".

I need to make it up to him. But how?

I'm pondering this when another email comes through from Nate.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013 14:28 From: Nathan McKenna To: Julianne Montgomery Subject: Departing Julianne, I am about to board the plane back to Seattle. Once you've finished with the reports I emailed to you earlier, you are free to leave for the day.

Nate He's still so cold, although I know that in work email he doesn't really have a choice. He could have texted me with something more personal, and the fact that he didn't makes me really nervous.

Did I f.u.c.k up so badly yesterday that he's going to break it off?

Wednesday, May, 15, 2013 14:35 From: Julianne Montgomery To: Nathan McKenna Subject: Re: Departing Nate, Safe travels. See you in the office tomorrow.

Julianne But he's not getting off that easy. I pull out my phone and send him a text.

Please travel safely. I'm excited to see you tonight.

There is no response.

s.h.i.+t.

I'm later getting to Nate's than I really intended to be. I had to stop by the hospital to see Natalie, Luke and Olivia, and I couldn't go empty-handed, so I stopped to shop a little on the way. I ended up with a huge, super-soft giraffe and a tiny pink onesie that says, "Birth: Nailed It."

I don't have any idea if Nate has already made it home because I haven't heard a peep from him. I guess I'll find out when I get there.

I park in my usual s.p.a.ce, leave my suitcase in the car in case I'm not welcome to stay here tonight, and ride the elevator to his floor, and as the elevator climbs, so does my anxiety level.

Based on how things have gone over the past twenty-four hours, I'm inclined to believe that things may be done between us. The thought of it makes me hurt like nothing ever has before.

I walk down to his door and put my s.h.i.+ny new key in the lock. I step into Nate's apartment, and can immediately sense that I'm alone.

He's not home yet.

It's chilly inside, so I switch on his gas fireplace to warm the s.p.a.ce and turn on a few lamps in the living room and the light over the kitchen stove.

Maybe I should cook for him? I wonder if he's eaten.

I'm standing in the middle of Nate's s.e.xy kitchen, wondering what to do with myself when the front door opens and he walks inside, pulling his small black suitcase behind him. He's wearing another dark suit and tie, and his hair is pulled back off his face.

He's still in executive mode.

"I'll be right back," he murmurs and walks through the great room toward his bedroom without sparing me a glance.

Maybe I should just save him the trouble of telling me it's over and leave now. I know he's mad, and I wasn't expecting a scene from a movie where we run toward each other in slow motion and hold on for dear life. We saw each other just yesterday morning, for Pete's sake, but I was hoping for something a little warmer than that.

My heels click on the hardwood as I walk to the couch and gather my purse and wrap, and then I head to the front door. My hand is on the k.n.o.b when I hear his hard voice across the room.

"If you walk through that door, so help me G.o.d, Julianne, I will tie you to my bed."

I lower my head and sigh. I'm so confused. He wants me to stay?

"Look at me." It's not a request.

I turn around and face him. He's changed into a soft gray t-s.h.i.+rt and black jeans, and his hair is down. He's shed his professional clothes, and is just a man standing before me.

An angry man.

"Where are you going?" he asks and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Home."

"Why?"

"You don't seem to be terribly happy to see me." I'm proud of keeping my voice steady despite the tears that want to come.

G.o.d, I'm such a girl.

Regret moves through his eyes and he frowns and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't say anything for a long moment, and I take that to mean that I'm right. I close my eyes and hang my head, bracing myself for the goodbye.

"It's okay, Nate. I get it. I'll go." I turn back toward the door and before I know what's happening, Nate twirls me around and grips my shoulders in his large, strong hands, holding me in front of him, his feral eyes trained on mine. He's panting, and he's just so angry.

"You are not running again."

"I'm not going to stay where I'm not wanted."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've barely heard from you since last night. You won't talk to me. You're cold and distant. I'm not an idiot, Nate, I know when someone's trying to break it off."

He clenches his teeth and closes his eyes, then looks at me with such need my knees almost buckle.

"I don't know how to deal with how I feel for you. I was a wreck yesterday when I couldn't reach you. No one at the office knew where you ran off to, and you wouldn't answer me. When you finally did call me, you brushed me off and told me I'm ridiculous and that our relations.h.i.+p is bulls.h.i.+t."

"That's not what I..."

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