Page 41 of Last Summer

“It’s getting dark. You should leave.” Long legs carry him across the front yard to where the house meets the adjoining garage.

“You wouldn’t have insisted I do the interview if we didn’t already have a connection,” she calls after him. “You wouldn’t have reached out to Rebecca and offered the exclusive—again, I might add—if you didn’t have something to say.”

“Good night, Ella. Go home,” he shoots back over his shoulder, not breaking his stride.

“I lost my son, too.”

Nathan stops.

“I was five months pregnant when an Escalade T-boned my Range Rover. The impact pushed my car into a telephone pole and ruptured the placenta. I survived, fortunately, but my baby was dead by the time I arrived at the hospital. I had an emergency C-section. That’s the story I’ve been told. I also had to read about it in the police report and my medical records. Do you know why?”

Nathan slowly turns around.

“Five days after my accident I lost my memory. Not all of it, just some, like the parts about the car accident and my pregnancy. And you. I can’t remember you. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” he says quietly, walking back to her.

“Do you know what I want most?” she asks, tapping her chest. “I want to mourn the loss of my baby, but I can’t remember him. I can’t remember what it feels like to have him growing inside me. Do you know what happens when you can’t remember having something? You don’t miss it. I haven’t been able to grieve, not the way I should. Not the way I want to. And god, the guilt. I can’t begin to describe the guilt.” She pauses, remembering she’s the one who got into the car. She’s the one who didn’t pay attention when she crossed the intersection. Tears surface, burning her eyes and throat.

“El.” Nathan takes a step forward, reaches for her.

She holds up a hand to ward him off. She didn’t mean to share this much with him, but once she started talking, she couldn’t stop. She’s been wanting to talk for months, but Damien hasn’t been willing. And goddamn it, she just wants to talk it out. To, once and for all, grieve.

Ella wipes her tears with her jacket sleeve. “I know my miscarriage can’t compare on any level to what you’ve been through.”

“Don’t discount your own experience,” Nathan says.

Ella nods, looking at her boots.

“Ella? Look at me.”

She does, and she notices he, too, looks ready to cry. He’s not immune to her story. He opens his mouth, ready to say something, but Ella stops him.

“Please, let me finish. Miscarrying at twenty-one weeks is awful. But losing a nine-year-old child? Someone you’ve read bedtime stories to and made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for, kissed good night and held his hand? I can’t imagine that.”

Nathan’s lips press into a tight line.

“I know you’ve been grieving, Nathan, and I know about the guilt. You believe you could have done things differently and he’d still be alive. Because that’s how I feel every single day.”

He shifts, takes a step back.

“I bet you haven’t talked to anyone about Carson except me. You live up here like a recluse and avoid the public like the plague. Has anyone visited you? Do you allow anyone to visit?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“Isn’t it, though?Youinvited me here.Youwanted to see me.Youwant me to write about you.”

“I wanted you to come because I wanted to finish what we started, not start over.”

Ella unconsciously steps back. This isn’t just about an interview. There’s so much more going on in this conversation that isn’t registering with her. What exactly happened between them?

She’ll speculate on that later. Right now, she needs to nail down Nathan’s commitment and get his help in return.

“What’s wrong with starting over?” She takes a step forward. Then another. “You called for me and I’m here. Talk to me. About you, Carson, whatever you want. Because if you don’t, your son’s death will eat at you until there’s nothing but an empty shell.” It’s been happening to Damien. It almost happened to her after her parents, after Grace. “Maybe talking and spending time together will help me remember the first interview. Maybe it’ll help me get my other memories back, too. So what do you say? Let’s help each other.”

Nathan doesn’t answer. His expression is unreadable.

Ella looks at the sky. It’s almost dark and the wind has picked up. It’s up to him now. She prays he’s game to take another chance on her.

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