CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Laura checked in on Lacey in her bedroom, tucked up into her bed inside sheets printed with unicorns flying through fluffy clouds. A smile passed over her face at the sight of the tiny girl, her own features bathed in the soft glow of a nightlight on the dresser beside her. Laura often had to wonder to herself just how she and Marcus, who had turned out to be a pretty bad fit, had managed to produce something so perfect and sweet.
She turned away, setting the door to almost closed and padding back out into the living space of her small apartment. As always when she knew someone was coming over, she swept her gaze over everything with a critical eye: the battered old secondhand couch she still hadn’t been able to save up enough to replace, the bare shelves, the lack of framed photographs. She’d left everything behind when Marcus threw her out. Most of her framed photographs had him in, anyway, and she hadn’t wanted them.
Her home looked like what it was: a place where a recovering alcoholic was trying to rebuild her life. the only room that had seen any real attention was Lacey’s room, and that was recent. It hadn’t even been all that long since they’d come to a court agreement that allowed Laura to get custody on weekends. Laura had to pinch herself sometimes. She had spent a long time wishing for her life to come back together, and it really was starting to.
She paced the floor restlessly, clasping her hands together too tightly to be comfortable. She let go consciously, shaking her fingers in the air to dispel the discomfort, and turned to pace in the other direction only to find she was clasping her hands again. She hadn’t been nervous like this for a very long time.
She had no idea what he was going to say. After she’d reached out to Nate and told him she wanted to meet up, over text, his reply had been so slow she’d begun to believe there wouldn’t be one. And what he’d said—I’ll meet you at your place tonight—was so ambiguous.
Was he annoyed? Done with her? Angry? Afraid? Ready to tell Rondelle everything and ruin her reputation?
Or what?
The knock on the door almost made her jump out of her own skin, a full-body flinch that made Laura realize just how scared she was about facing him. Telling him had been awful. Having him not believe her had been worse. And when he did believe her, the look of disgust on his face had been the worst yet.
Laura shook out her hands one last time and forced herself to stride to the door and open it, believing that faked confidence might turn into the real thing if she tried hard enough. She looked up, and there he was: her longtime partner, her confidant, her friend. Lately, her nightmare.
Nate Lavoie was taller than she was, making her tilt her head up at him. He filled her doorframe with a kind of unwanted presence, like he was wishing he could make himself small. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a dark hooded jacket against the cold, the hood itself up over his head and his neatly coiled short dark hair. He bit his lip when their eyes met, then made a kind of shrugging moue.
“Alright if I come in?” he asked.
Laura nodded wordlessly, not trusting her voice, and stepped aside. He entered, wiping his feet on the doormat, and paced across her floor, unknowingly taking the same route she had a moment ago. He paused and lingered in front of the television, as if not sure where to go next.
They weren’t exactly friends outside of work. Not like that. Not when work was such a huge part of their lives that it was almost all there was. He was unfamiliar with her space.
“Sit down,” Laura offered. “Would you… would you like something to drink?”
Nate gave her a startled look halfway to the couch.
“Like coffee?” Laura elaborated, hating that his mind had gone to alcohol right away. That was her own fault, she knew. She was going to have to spend a long time working on fixing it. But right now, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was whether he was going to let her have that long time to know him in the first place.
“Yeah,” Nate said, which was good because she figured it meant he intended to stay for a while. “Yeah. Coffee would be great.”
“Lacey’s asleep in the bedroom,” Laura said, nodding her head down the hall. “She’s a pretty good sleeper, but…”
Nate nodded back as she started the coffee machine. “I won’t wake her.”
Good. He wasn’t going to storm out right away, and he wasn’t going to shout. That was good progress. Laura faced the kitchen window for a moment, catching her breath, wiping her hands on the sides of her pants. She took out two coffee cups, remembered she’d had several with Chris, and put hers back in favor of a glass of orange juice from the fridge.
She took the drinks to the coffee table, set them down, and paused, realizing she’d left herself nowhere to sit. Nate was sunken into the worn cushions of her couch, looking almost ridiculous, his long and muscular frame getting swallowed up by that beat-up piece of junk. After a moment, Laura gave in to the inevitable and sat right next to him, awkwardly close for someone who might be about to tell her he didn’t want her in his life anymore.
Nate picked up his coffee and sipped at it.
The suspense was almost killing her.
“So,” he said, and she sat up straight, hanging on every word. “I’ve been thinking. A lot. I’ve had time to process what you told me. What you… showed me, I guess.”
“And?” Laura asked, her heart so far up her throat that her voice came out breathy.
“And,” Nate said, pausing for a moment. “And I think I can live with it.”
“What?” Laura burst out, in unrestrained excitement. She’d been so sure he was going to say he was leaving. That she was never going to see him again.
“I spoke to Rondelle already, and he cancelled my transfer,” Nate said. He glanced at her then, a look of alarm and uncertainty in his deep brown eyes. “Unless—unless you don’t want that. Damn, I did that without asking if you still want to be my partner—”
“Of course I want to be your partner,” Laura said. She was blinking back tears from her eyes. “Oh, god. Nate. I thought…”
He looked at her and Laura felt him seeing her, realizing. Seeing how much pain and uncertainty she had been in. How she had feared losing him forever, after all their years of being a team. “It’s alright,” he said, gently. But then he cleared his throat and his manner changed, shifted less personal again. “I’m still trying to, you know, fully reconcile what you told me. But I, um. I want to work through that while remaining as your partner, instead of running away.”
Laura had to look away, pretending to examine her orange juice. If she didn’t, she was going to break down and cry. She’d never had anyone know about her ability—not fully. Her parents, she knew, had kind of suspected when she was a young child. Any hint she’d shown of knowing the future back then had been stifled quickly, shoved down, and then never acknowledged again. Like she’d had an imaginary friend—not a gift.
But for the first time in her life, Laura had told her secret to someone—and he had remained an ally.
He was on her side.
“You won’t tell anyone else?” she asked, because she had to be sure, because it would be terrible if his stipulation for all of this was that she had to come clean.
“Not if that’s what you want.” Nate shook his head, taking a long sip of his coffee. “I don’t pretend to understand. It must be a heavy burden, having this kind of secret. If it was me, I think I would want to make sure a few people knew. People like my boss, knowing it could help out with cases. But it’s your choice. If you want it to remain a secret, I promise it will.”
Laura nodded. “I appreciate that,” she said, clearing her throat to hide the fact that her voice had cracked. “When are you back off leave?”
“Monday,” Nate said, giving her a wry look. “Rondelle is of the opinion I’ve had enough time off already, these past weeks.”
“He’s right,” Laura said, to tease him, but there was a weight of warmth behind it. “I’ve missed you. You know he stuck me with two rookies?”
Nate nodded toward her hand. “I heard about the consequences, too. I go on leave for two cases and you almost get yourself killed.”
Laura smiled, hesitantly, but it was real. “I guess I need you to stop me doing stupid things.”
Nate opened his mouth to say something, closed it, took a breath, and opened it again. “And I guess you can stop me from doing stupid things now, too,” he said. “Without having to beat around the bush and pretend like you don’t know for a fact what the consequences could be.”