Page 75 of Fault Lines
He didn’t let it go. “I’m not just saying that. It takes patience and understanding. You have both. You’re a little too empathetic, honestly.”
I tilted my head. “What does that mean?”
He laughed softly. “No offense. Just… what you’re doing for your husband. Letting him figure out his stuff, even though it hurts you. Most people wouldn’t.”
I shrugged, bracing my arms on the table. “I’m not the only woman who’s said yes to an open marriage,” I said quietly. “But you’re right, in a way. I used to think we were unbreakable. That our love was this… stone foundation. But maybe there was always a fault line. My infertility just turned a tremor into a full-on earthquake.”
It was too much, suddenly. I gathered up our trash, hands shaking a little, and walked it over to the nearest bin. The air outside the spill of light was cool and bracing.
Nate caught up to me. “What do you want to do now?”
I seized the chance to pivot away from the heaviness. “Rides, obviously,” I said, and jabbed him in the ribs.
He flinched, pretending to be injured, but I could see the glint in his eye. I made a beeline for the Balloon Race ride and ignored his loud, “Really, Livi?” behind me.
“Why not?” I said, already in line.
He tried to steer me away. “Don’t you want something a little more exciting?”
I reached out and latched onto his arm. “What’s not exciting about spinning in a giant balloon bucket? Live a little, Nate.”
He surrendered with a laugh. “If you say so.”
We chose the red bucket, of course, because that was my favorite color. The ride operator checked the seatbelts, making a show of it, though I couldn’t see how anyone could ever fall out. The ride started, and within seconds, Nate had his phone out and was recording us as the bucket spun and rocked. The centrifugal force shoved us together; I shrieked, and he started deliberately shifting back and forth, making the bucket jerk wildly.
“Knock it off!” I swatted at his arm. “You’re going to get us kicked off!”
He turned the camera toward me, grinning. “Smile for the camera, birdie!”
I tossed my head back and laughed. “You’re insane.”
He only grinned wider. “Crazy for you, beautiful.”
The words stunned me, but not in a bad way. I looked at him, really looked at him. Cam was the one with the movie-star looks and magnetic charm, but Nate… Nate’s goofy dimple and crooked smile were suddenly so endearing it made my chest ache. The more time I spent with him, the more I realized: he was becoming attractive in a way that was all his own.
When the ride ended, he helped me out of the lurching bucket and, confusingly, never let go of my hand. I didn’t mind.
He led me through the line to the next ride, The Pendulum. My heart lurched as I stared at the towering arc, the people already on it swinging dizzyingly high.
I hesitated. “I don’t know about this one.”
He squeezed my hand. “It’s fine, trust me.”
“I've seen the news stories,” I muttered. “These things fly off the rails.”
He just chuckled. “You’re more likely to die in a car accident than on a fair ride. It’ll be fine. I promise.” He pulled my hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I’ll take care of you.”
So I let myself get guided into the seat beside him, the safety bar snapping into place over my ribs.
“I don’t like this,” I blurted as we creaked up and over the first hill.
He leaned in so I could hear him. “I know it’s scary to let go of control, even for five minutes. But sometimes you gotta live in the moment—not get lost in all the what-ifs. Just… let go, Livi.” His eyes found mine. “If you fall, trust yourself to catch you.”
He was talking about the ride, but I could tell he wasn’t only talking about the ride. Cam would have stepped out of line with me, no questions asked, but Nate was here, encouraging me to push the boundaries a little, reach for something just for the sake of reaching.
So I did. I shut my eyes and let the wind whip across my face. Listened to the rush of air, the shrieks of other riders. Felt Nate’s warm hand clutching mine, reliable and strong. Every time the pendulum reached its apex, my stomach twisted, but in a way that was thrilling, not sickening. I opened my eyes and watched as the fair lights turned into streaks of color below us. It was breathtaking.
I screamed, not in terror but in pure exhilaration.
