Chapter 3 - The Chair He Sank IntoThat evening, Nathan was putting away groceries when I walked into the kitchen carrying one of the red bundles. He saw it and froze.
"Where did you get that?"
"Teresa kept it."
His face changed. I set the torn interview letter on the counter. "Why?"
He stared at it. I didn't say anything else — just waited.
"Why were you throwing these away?"
He sank slowly into a chair. For once, I didn't help him find the words.
Finally: "When you weren't working, you needed me for everything."
I crossed my arms. "You paid the bills. You kept us afloat."
"It was more than that, Claire." He rubbed his palms together. "You asked what I thought. You waited for me to come home. When another rejection came in, I was the one you wanted."
My chest tightened. "And when I started working again?"
"You changed."
"I recovered."
"I know."
"Then say what you actually mean."
His eyes filled. "I got used to being needed, Claire."
I stayed perfectly still.
"When you started doing well again, I was proud of you. But every promotion, every recruiter — it made me feel like I was losing my place."
"So you sabotaged them."
His face crumpled. "Yes."
The word sat there, heavy, between us.
"It started with one letter," he went on. "Then an email. Once, when someone called, I told them you weren't interested."
"And afterward?"
He looked down. "I comforted you."
"While I thought I'd failed."
He said nothing.
"Why?"
His voice broke. "Because when you were disappointed, you came back to me. You needed me again."
I stepped away from the counter. "It was selfish," he whispered. "But I didn't want you powerless."
"You just didn't want me fully independent, either."
May you like
He covered his face. "No."
For the first time, he wasn't trying to make the truth smaller. Neither was I.
