Page 45 of Nicky

It was like flipping a switch. The light in his eyes dimmed, his expression locking down so tightly it could’ve been madeof stone. He didn’t flinch, didn’t gasp, didn’t even blink. The stillness in him was terrifying, unnatural.

“Okay,” he said at last, his voice an empty echo. “I need to check her chart, make sure her notes are in order.”

“Nicky.” I stepped closer, the firmness in my tone catching his attention. “You don’t have to do this right now.”

He didn’t look at me, his focus elsewhere, his mind racing. “I should’ve noticed,” he muttered. “When I checked on her yesterday, she looked tired, maybe off. But I didn’t think… I should’ve known.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, trembling under the strain.

“This isn’t your fault,” I said, lowering my voice, softening the edges. “Strokes don’t always come with warnings. If you missed something, then so did I. So did the nurses on duty last night. Are you blaming all of us?”

His head snapped up, his eyes flashing with a sharpness that stole my breath. “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just me.”

“Then why not me?” I pressed, taking another step closer, my own chest tightening with the weight of his guilt. “I’m her doctor. I’m the one responsible for her care. Shouldn’t I be the one carrying this?”

The fight in his gaze wavered, then hardened again. “She trusted me,” he said, his voice raw, breaking. “She trusted me to look after her, and I wasn’t here. I let her down.”

I crouched in front of him, ignoring the protest in my knees, and laid a hand lightly on his arm. “You didn’t let her down. You’ll be here for her when she needs you most. That’s what matters.”

His breath hitched, a sharp, ragged sound, and he turned his face away. But not before I caught the sheen of tears in his eyes.

“Let it out, Nicky,” I murmured, my voice low, steady. “You don’t have to hold it all in.”

His jaw tightened as though he was trying to swallow his pain. “No one’s ever…” He stopped, his words choking out on a broken breath. He swiped furiously at his face, as if scrubbing away tears could erase the ache in his chest. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” I said firmly, letting my hand rest where it was. “And that’s okay.”

His shoulders sagged, the last threads of his resolve unraveling. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against my shoulder. The weight of him settled there, and I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, resting my chin against his hair. His body trembled, silent sobs wracking him as the dam finally broke.

I held him tighter, wishing I could take on his pain, bear some of the burden he insisted on carrying alone. For now, all I could do was hold him and let him feel, let him know he wasn’t alone.

And for the first time, Nicky let me. He let himself break, and he let me catch him. For this moment, I was his strength, and I’d stay that way for as long as he needed.

CHAPTER 22

Nicholas

Markus held me like he’d never let go, strong arms grounding me when everything inside me felt like it was splintering. I hated how safe it felt, how much I wanted to lean into that safety and let it wash over me.

I cried, something I hadn’t done in years, not since Aiden and I lost Mom. Back then, I had to be the strong one, had to hold it all together because if I didn’t, who would? But now, here I was, falling apart in Markus’s arms like a damn kid.

For a moment, I let it happen. I let myself feel the ache, the overwhelming guilt.

Then I pulled away, my movements sharp and almost frantic. Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I forced the tears away, even though the pressure in my chest hadn’t gone anywhere. Too much. It was all too much.

“I should get back to work.” The words came out steadier than I felt, clipped and hollow. I focused on the floor, unwilling to meet Markus’s gaze.

He didn’t try to stop me. He rose to his feet, his eyes burning into me like he could see every broken piece I was so desperate to hide. That warmth, that quiet understanding—it undid me more than anything else.

“Let me know if there’s anything you need.” His voice was low, a quiet offer, steady and sure like the man himself.

I nodded, not trusting myself to say more, rose to my feet and turned toward the door. My hand froze on the handle. “Could I… maybe come over tonight?” The words slipped out before I could second-guess myself. “After work. To talk.”

When I finally forced myself to look at him, his expression shifted to something softer, more open. He nodded once, his surprise clear but unspoken.

“I’ll be home.”

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