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They exchange a glance, but then she turns to me. “Her mother didn’t show up for brunch, so I was going to meet her at the restaurant.” The same mother who humiliated her daughter and scheduled this brunch as an apology?What the hell?

Looking at my watch, I ask, “I thought that was more than an hour ago?”

“It was.” Her tone is solemn as she looks down to put her phone in her bag on the counter.

My imagination starts to get away from me. I want to be wrong, so I ask, “She’s been there alone this whole time?”

“Yes.” Natalie swings her bag onto her shoulder and lifts to kiss Nick. “That’s why I’m going to see her.”

“I’ll go.” They both look at me as if I’m speaking a foreign language—heads tilted, confusion cinching their brows together. “I want to go,” I add as if that will make them understand the guilt I feel for what I said to her this morning. We argued, but I can still be there for her in a time of need.

“I don’t know, Harrison,” Natalie says, slipping out of her husband’s embrace.

“Did she say something to you?”

“Should she have?” she asks defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

I exhale and run a hand over my head. “We had words this morning.”

Without blinking, she looks at me with her mouth open. “I thought you were here last night, just sleeping in.”

The tables have been turned, and now I’m the one who’s busted. I don’t have to justify my whereabouts to anyone and haven’t in years. But as she said, Tatum’s important to her, and I know her worry comes from concern for her friend. “I stayed with her last night. That was great. This morning . . . not so much. I’d like to go and talk to her . . . be there for her.”

Nick eyes me, seemingly invested in Tatum’s well-being. It’s not like he hasn’t known me his whole damn life. “Really?” I ask, annoyed.

He crosses his arms, and something appears to satisfy him. “I think you should let him go, Nat. It sounds like they have some unfinished business to take care of.”

Natalie’s gaze volleys between us a few times with a debate sparked in her eyes. “I don’t know if that’s wise since you had a fight with her as well. It’s not dump on Tatum day.”

“You’ve always been there for her, but today, I can be the one,” I say. The words that came so naturally off my tongue sound strange to my ears.

The one?

What the fuck am I saying?

I barely stepped foot in Manhattan, and she’s already written me off. That’s my wounded pride speaking. My heart says otherwise. Something tells me she needs to know someone else is in her corner right now.I can be that person.

She sets her bag on the counter. “All right, but promise me you’ll tell me everything when you get back.”

Holding up my hand in Scout’s honor, I say, “I promise.”

Since I have my wallet and phone, I don’t need to go back upstairs. “Text me the address?”

“I will.” Natalie then adds, “Be gentle. She’s strong, but her Achilles’ heel is her vulnerable side.”

I know. I found out the hard way, but I don’t say it, feeling protective over the time I’ve had alone with Tatum. “You can trust me.” I head for the door with the two of them in tow. Just before I reach it, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

“The address,” Natalie says.

“If you hear from her again, convince her to stay.” I walk out and down the stairs. It’s faster to take a cab since one’s already heading my way. I raise my arm, and when it zips across the lane to the curb, I look back at them. They’re still standing there like worried parents. “I’ll take care of her,” I say and then get in the back of the taxi.

On the ride over, I debate if I should warn Tatum that I’m coming. If I do, she’ll leave. I know it. I’ve also learned how she handles confrontation. She ditches the situation. A trait she inherited from her mother.

If I don’t tell her, she may leave as soon as she sees me.

I’m willing to take my chances.

The ivy-covered restaurant has seating on the sidewalk, but I don’t see Tatum. I stop at the hostess stand, and say, “I’m looking for a friend. I’m just going to cruise around real quick.”