"Riley. I've been here less than an hour. I think I can manage longer than this." Nate stands. "Hey, Josh! Want to go to a movie?"

Josh can't climb out of the tree quick enough and runs over. Nate should've asked me first, but who am I to complain he wants to see more of us? I stand and Nate holds me close, kissing me accompanied by complaints from Josh.

"Don't stress it, Riley. We live life as it comes, right? That's all we can do, right?"

40.

NATE.

I'm an a.s.shole.

There's no other way to describe myself.

I can't do this. No, I don't want to do this and that's what makes me the a.s.shole. I can't be who Riley needs me to be with her son.

Will tells me I've barely tried, but isn't this better if I end things sooner rather than later? I love Riley; care for her more than anybody for a long time, but I can't love her son too. He isn't mine. Kudos to the guys out there who can step up and be the dad a kid is missing, but I'm no role model.

I don't have any issues with Josh himself; he's a great kid. Funny. Typical boy into all kinds of s.h.i.t his mum hates. I reckon a girl would've suited Riley better.

Would my kid have been a boy or a girl?

I push away the memory.

Riley's too much like me. We're cautious, despite telling each other how we feel; complete trust is a long way off. The doubt I can have a full-blown relationship whispers; and on those days, I call Riley and rea.s.sure myself there's an us.

Insecurity sucks, and it has a stranglehold on me still. How long before my need to run, before I end up the one hurt, slips in again?

This isn't only about my worries I'll be a c.r.a.p dad to Josh; Riley might think I'm not suitable for the job.

s.h.i.t. I don't f.u.c.king know. Riley means the world to me, but I can't let go to love her in an all-encompa.s.sing, selfless way that includes her son.

I don't know how to.

On the weeks Riley's weekends are taken up, we catch up for lunch or she comes over to my place. Our addiction to s.e.x with each other hasn't waned, if anything, it's intensified since we allowed ourselves emotionally closer. Each time she comes over, the ties bind us tighter and I can't talk to her about my fears. I don't want to make her cry, and have my heart tugged in two, unable to go through with what I need to.

This afternoon is one of Riley's visits following a morning debating with myself what the h.e.l.l to do. She knows; Riley reads me too well.

"What's happening, Nate?" she asks as she undoes her coat.

"What do you mean?"

Riley gives a tiny smile. "I've been here five minutes and I still have my clothes on."

I stroke her hair and hold my palm against her head. I'm unsure what she reads in my eyes, but she touches my face in return. "Are you wanting the talk with me, Nate?"

"No." I wrap Riley in my arms and breathe in her orange scent. Why the f.u.c.k can't life be how it was when we were in the pub? The way I want? Why can't Riley be only mine? She clings to my waist as I rest my head on her hair, and the love between us translates into no words necessary. How am I ever going to find this again? Really, I could do with a hard smack to knock sense in.

"You're hard to work out sometimes," she says and draws away. "Make a drink and talk to me."

As usual, Riley teases me when I make her coffee, how honoured she is that the famously egotistical Nate Campbell does what she asks. I'm drawn in by her humour, our naturalness, and again I hold back the words.

"I have something to ask you," she says and traces the rim of her coffee cup.

"Sure."

"You know I'm heading on holiday next month? Josh and me were wondering if you'd like to come with us." She stares at the table when I don't respond. "Sorry, shouldn't have pushed you."

"No. It's uh... I'm busy. Y'know. Stuff."

Concentrating on the table further, Riley drinks and says nothing. "It's okay. Big ask to be stuck with me and Josh for two weeks. But please be honest with me, Nate."

"What about?"

"This. Us." She sips. "Josh. I'm getting mixed signals from you about this."

"I just need some time, that's all." I fix her with what I pray is an honest look.

"Please don't string me along, Nate." Riley attempts to hide the hurt, but I read her as easily as she's reading me right now.

If I follow what's in my heart, I can leave the logic aside. That way I ignore the fear and live with the now. Why can't there be a magic window to the future to check if happiness reflects back?

If I ask myself the question enough, I know the answer and it's one I struggle with. I make my own happiness and need to risk hurt to find the future I want with Riley.

RILEY.

After all this time, why the h.e.l.l can't Nate be honest with me? If he's about to break my heart, I need it done quickly and cleanly, rather than lulled into the security he loves me the way I do him.

Nate confuses me still. He wavers between intimacy and distance all the time leaving me insecure. Some days we're on top of the world, others edging around each other. Maybe this is inevitable.

He reappears with his jacket and I bite inside my mouth. "Please say what you're thinking. Here, not in public," I say.

Time slows as I wait for his reaction.

"It's all good, Riley." Nate curls an arm around my waist and kisses the side of my head even though I look up for him to place his mouth on mine. "Let's go. How long do you have?"

"I don't know, Nate. How long?" I pause and force him to keep his gaze on mine, but I can't decipher any thoughts from his expression. "A couple of hours."

My phone rings and I jump out of the moment. School displays on screen and I groan inwardly. Josh's teacher phones at least once a week to discuss his disruptive behaviour. Should I cancel the call and deal later?

I give Nate an apologetic smile as I answer the phone. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Is this Josh Sawyer's mum?"

Not his teacher. "Yes. Who is this?"

"Diane. I work part-time with Josh's cla.s.s. I'm not sure if I've met you." Despite her attempt at teacher neutrality, I don't miss the wariness in her tone.

"Oh. Right. No, I haven't. What's Josh done this time?"

The pause is one second too long, enough to hitch my pulse. "Josh had an accident, and I'm-"

"Josh?" I interrupt. "What happened? Is he okay?"

Another short pause that may as well be an eternity. "He fell on the way to cla.s.s."

"And he's all right?"

Please, stop the pauses. Her next words send a chill through my day and freeze out any fears around Nate and me. "Josh knocked his head and he lost consciousness for a few minutes. As a precaution, we've called an ambulance to take him to hospital and get checked out."

"What?" My voice rises. "Ambulance? How bad is he? What happened?"

"It's a precaution, Riley; he'll be fine, I'm sure," says Diane in a soft voice.

"He's conscious now? Has the ambulance arrived?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

"You're sure? How can you be? What's happening? Where is he?" My eyes blur as my mind jumps from scenario to scenario.

"The ambulance is taking him to Barnet Hospital. If you can't get to the school in time to meet the ambulance, somebody can meet you at the hospital. A teacher is with him."

Nate's hallway floor lurches from under me. I steady myself against the wall. "What's happening? I can't... I don't know..." My voice cracks and I suck in air. Words. I need more words but only one will come. "Josh."

Nate prises the phone from my hand. "h.e.l.lo. I'm a friend of Riley's. Can you tell me which hospital her son is at?" He strides into the lounge the room and I disconnect, focused on a spot on the wall where the paint doesn't match.

Josh. Hospital.

An image of Josh lying unconscious on the ground flickers across my mind and I catch my breath. I need to leave. Now.

I jump back to awareness as Nate's strong hand circles my arm. "Riley, I'll take you."

"It's fine. I have my car." I fumble in my bag for my keys.

"No. You're not driving in this mess." He takes them from me.

I s.n.a.t.c.h them back. "No. I can do it."

"Riley..." He grips my hand and we tussle over the keys. "Will you just let someone f.u.c.king help you for once!"

The retort catches in my throat and I look down, away, anywhere but at Nate. A tear touches my nose and I swipe it away. When did I start crying? I take short, sharp breaths and look at the keys in my hand. "Okay," I whisper.

41.

RILEY.

Nate's with me but he could be anyone, a body sitting on the plastic chair besides me as I count the tiles between my seat and the nurses' station. Eleven. I prefer even numbers.

The London traffic is stressful on a good day; today I wavered between frustration and defeat at how long it took to drive to Barnet. Nate attempted to console me, but when I didn't acknowledge his plat.i.tudes, he gave up.

This morning, Josh chatted about Minecraft and I left him with Lauren to walk to school. I kissed his dark hair, followed a morning routine. How can this happen at school? He should be safe there, not hitting his head and under observation for bleeding on the brain.

The person next to me walks away, his Converse padding across the half-empty waiting room. I check my phone for the tenth time, but Mum hasn't called yet. She'll freak out, and I'm not sure I can cope with someone else's emotions.

"Riley." The person takes my hands and opens my fingers, pushing a plastic cup into one. The smell of coffee hits my senses and turns my stomach.

"No thanks." I push the cup back and look up.

Nate. The concerned lines sit above his confused eyes. This man is out of his depth. He sets the cup on the plastic table between two seats as he sits, then takes my hand.

Nate never asked if I wanted him to stay with me, he just did.

"He'll be okay," he says and squeezes my fingers.

"You can go now. Thanks for bringing me."

"I'm not leaving you on your own."

"I'll be okay. You don't belong here."

Nate's grip tightens. "I want to, Riley. This is your reality, and if I want to be part of your world, this is where I should be. With you."

"Please don't say that. Don't mess with me. I know you were going to end things today."

"I'm not and I wasn't." In my dazed state, I don't hear what Nate says next, as he wipes tears from my face with his thumbs. My tears have hardly stopped in hours - I'm terrified I'll lose Josh.

Nate's hands encircle mine the way he did in the snow; the way he holds my heart.

A nurse approaches and I look up in hope, but her shoes squeak across the tiles as she pa.s.ses to talk to another nurse.

Nate speaks, but I'm straining to hear what the nurse says. No point; her voice is too low.

"Sorry, Nate. I wasn't listening."