Until There Was You by J.J. Bamber Read Free Book Online Page A

still a slight glimmer of hope in his voice, a kind of strained faith, a muted expectation that the universe would somehow provide a little bit of light.
    "You could try—but in my professional opinion, it would be a lost cause. I'm very sorry to tell you this, to be the person to deliver the blow."
    Nate stood up, a quiet act of defiance and a desire to feel the solid ground underneath him, confirmation that the world was still in place. "Thank you, Mr. Clark. It's nice that you seem to care. I'm going to go and spend some time with my son. And drink my weight in red wine and then perhaps do some writing that will no doubt be horrendously awful. And just… try and build a semblance of a life—or of something like it."
    Jack stood up, and Nate noticed that he was taller than he had realized. "Are you okay to get home? You've had a big shock and the roads are a nightmare because of the construction."
    "I'm okay. I'm not going to fall apart; I think all of my mental faculties are intact. Thank you again. I assume that I just pack up all my stuff and someone will... will deal with my—the house. I supposed it's not mine anymore. I guess it never really was. Anyway... You have my number so you can just tell me when we need to be out." Nate pushed his short blond hair back with his right hand and picked up his bag with his left. He knew that he had to get out of the room—somehow, leaving it would make everything better.
    In the outside world, the rain would still be falling and people would still be living their lives, completely oblivious to the hurt and desolation this office now contained. Nate needed that sense of forward momentum as an antidote; he needed shopping bags, bustling children, and the constant march of the rain to battle the suspended animation he felt.
    Jack got to the door more quickly than Nate and blocked Nate's exit. "Mr. Grace. I really am sorry. Are you sure that I can't get you a taxi?"
    "No. I'm fine," Nate responded, not able to look into Jack's sad eyes.
    "Okay, but at least take this." Jack moved from the threshold and grabbed a black umbrella from the coat rack. It was one of those items that managed to be unassuming but also clearly expensive—the kind of thing that a wealthy, but not obnoxiously rich, person would buy. He thrust it into Nate's reluctant hand.
    "I can't take this; it looks like it costs more than the house I don't own." This attempt at humor fell flat. "That was meant to be funny. I was trying to be the guy who puts on a brave face and makes a joke even in the face of financial and emotional ruin."
    Jack looked like he was trying to smile, but he was clearly worried. Nate was struck with gratitude at Jack's professionalism, even though the information he had offered felt like a punch to the gut. The whole thing was genuinely painful. Nate usually believed that the truth set you free, but this truth felt like a death sentence. "It was funny. I thought it was funny."
    "It wasn't funny. It was just sad. But you know what?" Nate asked.
    "What?"
    "One day, maybe a day not that far from now, it might be. Maybe I will look back at all of this… all of this shit… and be able to see it as something other than devastation. Maybe one day this will feel like some kind of joke." Nate's words sounded flimsy and unconvincing.
    "I don't know you very well, and even I can tell that you don't really believe the things that you are saying. But for what it's worth—and I'm pretty sure that you don't care about what I have to say at the moment—I think you're right. I think that with a little time you'll be able to see this differently. I don't think it will ever be funny, and I don't think you should put pressure on yourself to be...Let me see if I can remember how you put it. 'The guy who puts on a brave face and makes a joke even in the face of financial and emotional ruin'. I think you will look back and be happy that you survived, and that that survival meant something." Jack's voice took