Page 27 of Isle of Pain

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” I laugh softly. “It’s a very good thing. I’m just not used to it.”

There’s barely any light in the room but I don’t miss his frown when I look up into his dark brown eyes.

“My family hasn’t been very honest with me lately. Or ever for that matter. And I wasn’t either. I never told them about Lisa’s cancer.” His jaw ticks but he stays quiet. The fact that he doesn’t try to tell me how much they care for me and I must not interpret their love correctly is enough to make me cry harder. “I don’t think anyone knows what to do with me or how to deal with my shit.”

“There’s nothingto dowith you, Marie. You’re a human being experiencing a very unique kind of grief. You’re not to bedealt with.”

Nico steps into my space. We’re so close I can almost feel the rise and fall of his chest like it’s my own breath filling up my lungs. “You don’t have to do or be anyone but yourself here.”

“Thank you.”

I remain silent and lose myself in his eyes, resolve and authentic care written all across his striking features. I make the mistake of dropping my gaze to his lip in time to see him flick his piercing with the tip of his tongue three times. Heat rises in my body until it drops lower. The sensation is new and heady. It reminds me of how it feels when whiskey spreads inside my bloodstream, except the heat usually stays in my stomach and now, it pours lower still and settles at the apex of my thighs. I want to press them together but I clench the pen in my hand instead and turn my attention back to my list. I write down a few items even though I’m sure I’ll find them in the guest bedroom.

“Can you show me where Ember is?” I ask Nico and he takes me to the semi-closed space behind the sofa where a baby bed is set up against the wall, my daughter sleeping soundly, wrapped in a soft grey blanket.

“Did you wrap her?” I ask incredulously.

Nico nods. “I watched tutorials. They say it’s the safest for babies so they don’t suffocate under heaps of fabric.”

My heart jumps inside my chest. “That’s… incredibly thoughtful. Thank you.”

“I wanted to make sure I could do what was right in case you wanted to rest. I’m glad I learned before you arrived.”

“But I texted you just a few hours ago.” I frown and he shrugs, like his behaviour is obvious.

“I’ve been learning since she was born. I read a lot. It’s confusing because people have different opinions so I’m not sure what is correct but this, professionals agree on.” His matter-of-fact admission is both jarring and cute. I turn my attention back to him. His eyes are on Ember but he has a puppy-likeexcitement written all across his beautiful face and when he looks back at me, his smile is blinding. I find myself smiling back and wanting to hug him. He’s tall and lean, unlike the men in my family or the goons who watched over my sister and I. I think I like it, but I remain rooted in place instead of closing the short distance between us to settle into his arms. Rejection would break me right now.

He gives me privacy while I change her and wrap her to my chest.

“Do you want to see the rest of the house?” he asks with something akin to hope in his voice a few minutes later.

I nod and Nico takes me to visit the rest of the small cabin. He lights up another side lamp that illuminates the space in a warm yellow glow. The lounge area and open kitchen is comfortable. Night has truly fallen and without any neighbours close, it’s too dark to make out the landscape outside. After walking a short corridor, two doors on the right side open to bedrooms and one on the left to a bathroom made of black and white tiles. There’s no bath but a beautiful shower with what looks like a lot of jets. It’s calling my name and Nico must sense it.

“There’s a bathrobe and towels on your bed, if you’d like to shower.”

The way he anticipates my needs makes my stomach swoop. He shows me how to operate the massage jets and leaves me to it, telling me that he’ll take care of Ember if she wakes up.

I haven’t trusted any member of my family with her but I trust Nico. I know he won’t take her away from me and with all the online research he’s done since she was born, it makes me feel like he was waiting for my call. Is it wrong of me to rely on him more than I thought I would? To let him take the burden off my shoulders for a few moments? I decide to answer the millionquestions in my head at a later time, when I’m not so frazzled and raw.

I untangle my daughter from my chest and lay her in his waiting arms. His entire body softens as he carries her to the living room.

I stay way longerunder the spray of hot water than I normally would, allowing the heat to melt my tired muscles and relax my overstimulated brain. Unfortunately, it doesn’t abate the raging headache pounding in my brain so vividly I feel it in my eye sockets.

I put on dark joggers and a comfy black sweater from my suitcases that only comprises dark clothing. I never liked colour but now, they remind me of Lisa too much and I can’t bear to see colours anymore.

When I step back into the open living room, Nico is setting up an easel and blank canvas by the large window in front of the patio, brushes and paint next to it on a high table.

“You paint?” I ask incredulously. I don’t know why I’ve never pictured him as an artist. Maybe it’s because I know he comes from a criminal family like mine and hobbies seem futile.

“Yes. But rarely in here,” he answers cryptically.

My stomach rumbles loudly in the silent room and I blush.

“You’re hungry. I have some leftovers in the fridge, we can reheat them.”

Without waiting for an answer, Nico moves towards the fridge on silent feet and graceful movements that speak of his occupation. I stand and observe him, unguarded in his home ashe places what looks like lasagna on a plate and re-heats it in the microwave. It’s so common. Too common for a man like him, that looks like Death itself but feels like a safe haven.

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