Chapter 14: Nathan's Regret

There, on the coffee table in Nathan's apartment, sat a boxful of memories and regrets. He had been sitting there in the chair, simply staring at it, for hours without quite being able to bring himself to open it. His wife and kids were away over the weekend visiting the grandparents; their apartment became a personification of the very emptiness cradled in his chest. Finally, murmuring a deep breath that did nothing for his nerves, Nathan reached for the box. Packing tape gave up its fortress without argument to his pocket knife; the sound of tearing adhesive was loud in the stillness of the room. Olivia's scent wafted out—some mix of lavender and something uniquely her—against which, as he raised the lid, his chest seemed to take a physical blow. "Oh, Liv," he whispered, his voice cracking on her name. First, he drew out of his pocket the silver bracelet. Nathan ran his thumb over the delicate chain as memories flooded his mind. Olivia's first major gallery showing, her eyes shini