Page 47 of Nicky

“See you later, Bev. I’ll be back when you wake up,” I whispered, the words feeling hollow. But it was all I could offer.

I stepped away from the bed, my fingers lingering on hers for a moment longer before I turned toward the door. I felt anoverwhelming wave of helplessness rise in my chest. But there was nothing more I could do. Not until she woke up.

Clara met me by the door, her expression soft with sympathy. “We’ll take good care of her.”

I forced a nod, then turned and left, the soft click of the door behind me echoing in the quiet hallway. As I walked back down the corridor, I tried to keep my breathing steady.

By the time I reached my car, I felt wrung out, but I knew one thing for certain—I was done running.

Tonight, I was going to Markus.

And for the first time in a long time, I was ready to stop hiding. From him. From myself. From the life I wanted but never thought I could have.

It was time to take control.

CHAPTER 23

Markus

Nicky showed up at my door looking like a man about to jump out of his own skin. His jacket was only half-zipped, his hair mussed like he’d run a hand through it a dozen times on the way here. I stepped aside to let him in, scanning his face. His usual guarded expression was nowhere to be found. In its place, something unsettled. Restless energy poured off him.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Take your jacket off.”

Nicky blinked, his hands hesitating on the zipper before tugging it down.

“Here,” I said softly, holding out my hand. “I’ll hang it up for you.”

He shrugged out of the jacket and handed it over. It was cold and damp from the winter air as I carried it to the rack near the door.

“Sit,” I added, gesturing to the armchair as I turned back.

Nicky nodded, his movement sharp, almost defensive, before he perched on the edge of the chair like it might bite him. His arms crossed briefly, then unfolded, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. I watched him for a moment before heading to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water.

When I handed it to him, our fingers brushed—a light touch, but enough to make him glance up at me. I didn’t look away.

“You okay?”

“I went to the hospital,” he finally said, his voice tight. “To check in on Beverly.”

I stayed silent, waiting.

“I couldn’t stay for long.” His jaw worked like he was grinding down the words. “But at least I got to see her.”

I knew how much Beverly meant to him. It must have been difficult for him to see Beverly in that condition. “She’s strong, Nicky. You know that. She’s getting the care she needs.”

“I know. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she’ll pull through.”

He sipped the water mechanically, his gaze darting around the room like he was cataloging every piece of furniture.

“I don’t know how to…” He trailed off, dragging a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously likedamn it.

I stayed quiet, waiting him out.

Finally, he exhaled sharply and set the glass on the coffee table. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. About… us. About what you want.”

My stomach did a slow flip. “Okay.”

He hesitated, his teeth catching on his lower lip. “I thought I couldn’t do it. That it wasn’t for me. That it would make me feel…” He paused, visibly searching for the right word. “Less.”

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