Page 19 of Wild For You
“You sure are, Haley-Bear.”
After a half hour, Haley was winding down.
“Let's take a breather,” Nico suggested, his voice a soothing baritone that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rustling leaves above them.
I nodded, my heartbeat slowing from the exertion of their play. I watched as Nico set down a woven basket and began unpacking an array of sandwiches, each wrapped in butcher paper and tied with twine. There was something about the meticulous care he took that made my heart flutter—a quiet testament to his character.
“Chicken salad for the lady,” Nico said, offering a sandwich to me with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Thank you.”
As we ate, Nico leaned back against the trunk of the oak, his gaze following Haley as she chased a butterfly, her giggles punctuating the serenity of their picnic. The sight seemed to stir something within him, a memory that clouded his usually guarded eyes.
“You know,” he began, pausing to collect his thoughts, “when I left for college, it was like the first domino in a long line got knocked down.”
I turned toward him, giving him my full attention, my sandwich momentarily forgotten. “What happened?”
“My dad... he walked out on us right before.” Nico's jaw tensed as he spoke, the words seemingly pulled from a place of deep-rooted pain. “Michael… well it broke him not having Dad around. And Mom…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head, the shadow of old sorrow crossing his face.
My heart ached for the young man Nico must have been. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my own past making me no stranger to the scars left by those who were supposed to love unconditionally.
He offered a rueful half-smile, his dark eyes meeting mine. “It's okay. It's just what made us who we are, you know? For better or worse.”
There was a vulnerability in Nico that I hadn't seen before—a crack in the armor that revealed the tender heart beneath. I wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but instead, I let out a soft laugh, chasing away the heaviness of the moment. “Well, for what it's worth, I think you turned out pretty great.”
Nico chuckled, the sound rich and genuine, and for a brief second, I imagined that laughter was a language we could both speak fluently, without fear or hesitation.
“Wish it was the same for my brother. I really thought he had finally gotten his shit together.” He covered his mouth, looking around for Haley. “It seems it was just a facade. Chase lost his mother years ago and without his father around, well I’m all he’s got.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. As hard as it is for you to hear. Michael made his own choices. You just made better ones. I mean look at you. Haley adores you. You’re her hero.”
“I just wish Chase could say the same about Michael. That’s all.”
It tore me up to hear him speak like that. Michael wasn’t always down a dark path, but knowing now what was happening back then, it made sense why our break-up was so sudden.
“Come here, you two!” Haley called.
As we rose to join Haley, the lightness returned—both to the air and within myself. The whimsy of the day had not been lost, merely enriched by the depth of shared confidences and the quiet strength that comes from understanding another's past.
The laughter faded, replaced by the tranquil hush of evening as we ambled toward an empty park bench. A soft breeze played with the edges of my hair, and I tucked a wavy strand behind my ear before settling next to Nico.
“Look at that sky,” I murmured. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, capturing the image in my mind's camera. “It's like a painting, isn't it?”
“Every sunset is unique,” Nico replied. “Like a fingerprint in the sky.” He stretched his arm along the back of the bench.
Haley, nestled between us, pointed at the disappearing clouds. “They look like cotton candy!”
I chuckled, my heart swelling at the child's imagination. With a sidelong glance at Nico, I caught a glimpse of his profile—strong jaw softened by the descending light, eyes reflecting the fading day. In this quiet moment, I felt the walls around my heart crumble just a bit more.
“Your daughter has your gift for seeing the beauty in things.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, a thoughtful expression creasing his brow. “Or maybe she's just got a knack for finding joy everywhere. Something I'm still learning.”
“Is that hard?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” he admitted. His hand moved, fingers grazing the ends of my hair. “After my father left, and especially after... well, when Michael went away, I forgot how to find joy. It's different with Haley. She reminds me every day.”
My pulse quickened under his touch, my mind piecing together the fragments of his past he'd shared earlier. I wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but instead, I took a deep breath, allowing the silence to speak for me.
