Page 79 of The Reaper
ChapterThirty-Six
DEVON
Four months later
It had been a rollercoaster of a ride, that was for sure. A few days after Nathan’s breakdown, I told Leah what’d happened. I left out the letters and the incident with her dad in the chapel, but I told her I’d gotten a call in the night, and that I’d gone on my own to help Nathan. She wasn’t happy that I’d kept it from her. We argued, and she froze me out for not waking her and taking her with me. She was equally as mad that I’d kept her in the dark in the days that had followed. She was right, of course. I should’ve told her, but the damage had already been done. It was a decision I’d made and all I could do was learn from it. Leah didn’t like secrets, and neither did I. After a lot of heated discussions, we vowed never to do that again. That was a promise I was intent on keeping.
As for Nathan, he’d had a few relapses, spent some time in a unit that catered for mental breakdowns, and he was starting to improve. He still had bad days, but the good were starting to outweigh the bad. He was currently living back at the vicarage, and Lizzie was staying with him. I think he quite liked having her around, even though he complained about everything she did whenever we were there.
The church had appointed a temporary vicar to cover his work. He didn’t like that either, but he was slowly coming round to the idea of accepting help. That was a big hurdle for him, that and acknowledging me as a permanent fixture in Leah’s life.
Leah had been staying with me more and more, and since her dad seemed a little more settled at home, we’d decided it was time for her to move in with me permanently and become a fully-fledged soldier’s wife, as Colton had joked. She would be my wife, but I wanted to take a little more time for us before we moved to that stage. Enjoy the little moments. Treasure them.
We both sat on the sofa together, opposite Nathan’s armchair. I held Leah’s hand as we chatted to her dad about our plans. Leah had a few more gigs booked. Her music was really starting to take off. I was so proud of her. Lizzie sat in the corner doing her crochet and giving the odd murmur of support. But what meant the most to Leah was how her father’s face lit up whenever she talked about the new songs she’d written or the score she was working on. And when Leah turned to me and said, “Dad gave me the best gift any father could give his daughter, he always believed in me,” I felt my heart burst, so it was no surprise that when I looked over at Nathan, he was wiping a tear from his eye.
“I always knew you’d make it as a song writer,” Lizzie piped up. “You’ve got a way with words, love.”
She was right. Leah’s words were like gold dust. Sometimes she was quirky, maybe a little crazy, but those were the times that I loved the most. Because that was her, unedited, unfiltered, honest and yet delicate in the way she dealt with others. She had empathy and a kindness that made you feel brighter, lighter for being around her. She was magnetic.
“Just like her mother,” Nathan said, smiling. “The pair of them could charm the birds from the trees.”
“Or the ravens,” Leah added and then smirked to herself.
We stayed for a while longer, but as it began to grow dark outside, we said our goodbyes. Leah hugged her aunty, then went to her dad and held him for a moment longer, giving him a hug that said, ‘I might be going, but I’ll never leave. A piece of my heart will always be here with you.’
I walked to the door, and we headed out to the car, but as we strolled down the path, I took the keys out of my pocket and handed them to Leah.
“I left my wallet inside,” I told her. “Jump in the car and I’ll be with you in two minutes, okay?”
“Okay.” She shrugged, walking on ahead.
I had left my wallet inside, but I’d done it on purpose. I wanted two minutes on my own with Nathan. Just two minutes to say what I had to say.
When I walked in, I could hear Countdown playing on the TV and Lizzie fussing in the kitchen. I stepped into the living room, and when he saw me, Nathan muted the TV and frowned.
“I left my wallet,” I explained, bending down to retrieve it from the side of the sofa where I’d stuffed it earlier.
Nathan kept his head down, but I knew I had his full attention.
“She can love us both, you know. And she does. I’ll never keep her from you.” I smiled to myself. “Just think of this as me borrowing her for a while.”
“If you borrow something, you intend to give it back.” He lifted his head to look at me. “And as much as it pains me to say this, I don’t want you to do that. It’d break her heart, and that would break mine.”
“I have no intention of breaking her heart.” I sighed and slid my wallet into my pocket. “We want what you had, you and Claire.”
“You already do.” His eyes shone with tears he didn’t want to shed, not in front of me. “The way you look at each other, the fact you have to be touching each other all the time, holding hands, even the way you speak, joking and teasing, that’s what we had. Watching you is like seeing Claire and I all those years ago.”
I let that sink in for both of us and then I added, “One day, I hope you’ll feel proud walking her down the aisle to me. Or better yet, being the one that marries us.”
He took a few deep breaths, and I couldn’t second guess how he’d react, but when he stood up and put his hand out for me to shake, I took it.
“I’d be honoured, son. That would be…” His voice broke, and he turned away, sitting back down and busying himself with the newspaper that was open at the crossword. Anything to distract himself from the emotions I’d just tapped into.
“I’ll see you on Sunday,” I said, walking towards the door.
“Yes, Sunday,” he replied. “But don’t sit at the back this time.”
I smirked. Maybe for one week I could move from our favourite position at the back of the church.
