Page 92 of Love Him Like Water

“Of course you can,” he said, wanting to say more, to ask more, to press, but sensing I was too fragile for anything else right then. “Come on, let’s get you settled,” he invited, waiting for me to stand up and move with him through his apartment, then down the hall into the first room. “Do you want me to get you anything?” he asked, pulling the covers back as I toed out of my shoes.

“No,” I said, climbing in, curling up.

Nico drew the covers over me, tucking them up to my chin.

“Okay. I’m not going anywhere, though,” he said. “So if you need anything, just come and find me.”

“Thanks, Nico,” I said, voice small.

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said, going toward the door and turning the light off.

“Nico?” I asked as he started to close the door.

“Yeah?”

“Can you not… can this just be between us?” I asked, hearing the plea in my voice. “For now?” I added, knowing he couldn’t agree to keep my secret forever. Not when the alliance involved the entire family. Not when this could start an all-out war if it went on for too long.

“Yeah, honey. I won’t tell anyone,” he assured me, and I knew that I could trust him.

There was a moment of silence.

Then, “Lore?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. You are very fucking loved.”

With that, he pulled the door mostly closed, so he’d hear me if I called, and I heard his footsteps move away.

There was quiet for a second.

Before I heard him start to pace.

I knew he wanted to go track down Renzo, lash into him for making me cry, for hurting me. But that he couldn’t do it.

That unspent energy likely had him frazzled and frustrated.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling, feeling another rush of useless tears escape my eyes, slipping down my temples and catching in my hair.

You are very fucking loved.

I needed to hear that.

The problem was, I was still aching to hear those words from someone else entirely.

Alone, hand pressed to my mouth to stay quiet, I let more grief pour out of me until, finally, what felt like hours later, I felt… dried out.

My heart was a pressed flower as I rolled over in bed, curling into a ball, and finally letting the relief of sleep tug at me.

But even as I started to drift off, all I thought of was him.

How long would it be until he realized I was gone?

Hours?

Days?

How long after that would it take him to give a damn? To try to find where I went? Would he even try to coax me back if he figured it out?

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