Page 44 of Nicky

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe later. This is their moment.”

The carols started up again, this time with staff joining in. Nicholas grabbed a songbook and perched on the piano bench beside Carl, who began playing with surprising skill. The room filled with voices, off-key and joyous, blending together in a way that felt like home.

Beverly’s laugh rang out as Nicholas sang in an exaggerated falsetto, earning groans and cheers from the group. He glanced my way, and for a fleeting moment, the walls I’d built felt dangerously thin.

“Dr. Webber,” Carl hollered. “You’re next for a solo!”

I raised my hands in mock defense. “Not happening.”

“Coward!” Nicholas grinned, his tone teasing, but there was something else in his eyes. Something I couldn’t name but felt down to my bones.

The night wore on, the room buzzing with stories, songs, and the warm glow of holiday cheer. Mr. Gaines looked happier than I’d seen him in weeks, his cheeks flushed as his laughter rang out. Across the room, Mrs. Thompson was clearly in herelement, her knitting needles clicking steadily as she worked on what looked like a festive red, green, and white sweater.

By the time we began wrapping things up, the warmth of the evening settled around us, soft and unspoken. Beverly pulled Nicholas into a hug, whispering something that made his brow furrow slightly and his gaze drop, as though he were turning her words over in his mind. I stayed back, watching, my heart both heavy and full.

The residents began filing out, some accompanied by staff or volunteers, guiding wheelchairs or steadying walkers. Others, still robust and independent, moved at their own pace as they headed to their rooms.

Nicholas was already clearing the table, his movements efficient, as if keeping his hands busy could keep his thoughts at bay. I stood for a moment, watching him. The urge to cross the room, to draw him into my arms and tell him that we could figure this out—whateverthiswas—hit me like a wave. I wanted to feel him relax against me, to see that flicker of trust in his eyes again.

But doubt crept in, whispering that maybe now wasn’t the right time. Maybe he needed space more than my presence. My own walls weren’t exactly intact tonight, either, and the thought of going home to an empty house made my chest ache.

I glanced at the doorway leading to my office. There was a stack of paperwork waiting for me there—mindless, monotonous, exactly what I needed to keep from spiraling into thoughts of what I should have done or said.

With a heavy sigh, I made my decision. Turning toward my office, I shot one last look at Nicholas, his shoulders tense as he reached for another plate. “Get home safely,” I said.

He didn’t look up, but he nodded. “You too.”

As I walked away, the quiet footsteps of my retreat felt heavier than they should.

CHAPTER 21

Markus

Dark circles under my eyes weren’t exactly the kind of accessory I planned to bring to work this morning, but after the night I had, they seemed appropriate. An emergency with one of our residents had kept me here all night, and despite the chaos settling hours ago, I hadn’t been able to leave. Guilt, exhaustion, and a simmering frustration had kept me tethered.

The coffee in my mug had gone cold. I didn’t bother to reheat it. My head ached from the cheap fluorescent lighting overhead, and every passing second tightened the knot in my chest. I’d been dreading this moment.

When Nicky walked into the clinic, a spark in his eyes and a tentative but genuine smile playing on his lips, it felt like the universe was mocking me. He looked more like himself than I’d seen in days—shoulders no longer weighed down, steps light and purposeful—and for a fleeting moment, I resented how unfair life could be.

He spotted me right away. His eyes lit up, his whole face softening. Worse, he didn’t avoid me like he had been. Instead, he walked straight toward me, his steps quick, his expression open. Hopeful.

“Hey,” he started, his voice carrying a warmth I hadn’t earned. “Can we talk? Privately?”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. He didn’t know. Not yet.

“Of course.” My own voice sounded too soft, like I might break if I spoke any louder. “Let’s step into my office.”

Nicky nodded, falling into step beside me. He was practically humming with nervous energy, his fingers fidgeting at his sides. Whatever he had to say, it clearly mattered to him. And that made this so much worse.

Inside my office, I closed the door gently and leaned against it, buying myself an extra moment to gather my thoughts. I gestured for him to take a seat and sat on the edge of a chair, one foot tapping lightly against the floor, watching me with an expectant gaze.

“What’s going on?” His tone was cautious but kind, like he was trying to reassure me before I even spoke.

I rubbed a hand over my face, the scrape of stubble grounding me for a fleeting second. The words swirled in my head, jagged and heavy, refusing to settle. “Nicky… there’s something I need to tell you.”

His brow furrowed, confusion casting a shadow over his bright gaze. He didn’t speak, just waited, his posture tense, ready for anything—or so he thought.

I swallowed hard, the name I had to say catching in my throat. “Beverly…” The sound of it almost broke me. I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Last night, after the party, she had a stroke. We transferred her to Juniper Hollow Medical Center. She’s stable now, but…” I hesitated, the truth too raw to rush. “She’s still unconscious.”

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