At least she didn’t lie.
She told me Nathan had talked about the possibility of a permanent Seattle team weeks ago.
He’d asked her what she thought about the project, the city, the hours, the pressure.
“Did you encourage him to take it?”
“I encouraged him to talk to you.”
“Apparently that part didn’t stick.”
Susan winced.
“I thought he’d told you about the original assignment until last night.”
“But you knew I didn’t know about the extension.”
“Yes.”
“And you texted him.”
“Because I was angry.”
That made me pause.
She continued.
“He kept saying he’d tell you once Bennett decided. Then Bennett decided. Nathan still didn’t tell you.”
I studied her face.
“Why does he talk to you about this stuff?”
“We work together a lot. Sometimes late. He talks when he’s stressed.”
“About our marriage?”
Susan was quiet for too long.
“What did he tell you?”
“He told me about your mother.”
I sat back.
Of everything she could have said, that was the one I wasn’t prepared for.
“He told you that?”
“Months ago.”
Susan looked embarrassed.
“He said you’d wanted to move closer after your father died, and he’d refused because of work.”
“And now he’s considering Seattle.”
“That’s why he felt guilty.”
I stared at her.
“He told you he felt guilty?”
Susan nodded.
“He said Seattle made him realize maybe moving hadn’t been as impossible as he’d made it sound.”
That hurt in a completely different way.
Nathan had realized it.
He understood exactly what this meant.
And instead of telling me, he’d told Susan.
Susan exhaled slowly.
“I should have stopped those conversations.”
I didn’t say anything.
