URIAH

Turning

Chapter 17

It feels like we're turning in circles.

We have spent all this time away from our family just to come back empty handed. A few good memories here and there came with the travelling, but Portia's death will forever follow us.

Nathan and I's fight took a piece of us away. We had beautiful moments like the one at the shooting range and the relaxation at the hotel, but I feel like something is different. Maybe it isn't the fight that changed things, but our interrogation methods with the PM's assistant might have been what drew a line between us.

"Passport ready?" Nathan asks.

Without saying a word, I lift my hand holding the passport up. I grip onto his arm a little tighter and snuggle my head a little more in his chest as I look out the window on my right.

He puts his left hand around my head, threading his fingers through my hair, and kisses the top.

"Nathan?"

"Yes, sweet buns."

I snort. I lift my head up laughing. "Did you just call my buns sweet?"

I know he wants to laugh, but he tries to stay serious.

"Of course."

I breathe in trying not to laugh anymore.

"Anyway," I say, stretching the word out, as I put my head back on his shoulder, "a lot has happened in these past weeks. A lot that put a strain on our relationship."

My heart starts beating so fast, I begin to stutter.

"I-I, I just want to make sure that as we are running around worrying about survival, I don't need to worry about us surviving."

He stays silent for a few seconds and all I can do is stare at the blue seats in front of us. The bus is full, but surprisingly quiet and I am sure someone has been listening in to our conversation.

I lift my head and look at him. He's clenching his jaw, his hands are in a fist, he cannot look me in the eyes. These are all signs of him trying to keep himself from tearing up.

I lean forward. I put my hand on his cheek and turn his head to face me. I rub my thumb over his scuffed cheek.

"Hey, did I...? What did I...? Nathan, talk to me, because you clearly see that I can't."

He forces a chuckle.

He takes a deep breath and starts talking, not looking me in the eyes.

"I'm just overwhelmed. Vi is still in Rodrigo's hands, Portia just died, I haven't seen my family or yours, or our friends, in weeks and I feel like I can't feel bad, because it's my fault. And I didn't realize that I also instilled doubt about my love for you too by fighting with you."

I put my hands on his. "First of all, you have every right to feel bad for yourself or feel sad. You are suffering just as much and so much more as everyone else in our lives. And, this, this is not your fault. If-"

"But it's my connection to Rodrigo that-"

"If you want to go back in the past and see who connected Rodrigo to your family first, you'd have to go back enough to either blame Portia for being with Tito or your dad for working for him or your dad's family for living in that city in the first place. No one is to blame other than the assholes making your life miserable."

"Our lives," Nathan corrects. I laugh.

"Yes, our lives."

"The only reason I felt like asking you about us," I continue, "was because I didn't know if you were still hurting because of what I did with Cristian. I didn't know if there was a barrier between us because of what happened in Whittier."