Page 90 of Love Around the Corner
“Yeah. Really well.”
Chris shook his head. “I always knew you’d end up owning the world, Nick. The next Bill Gates.”
He had? He’d always assumed Chris thought he was a waste of space, like his parents did. But here he was, looking at him with eyes full of pride and respect.
“That’s not my scene. Way too many corporate types ruining the fun. I like being my own boss.”
“You got investments?”
Nick shot a teasing grin at his brother. “Why? You want to handle my portfolio?”
“I’d love to,” Chris said, full of sincerity. “All you have to do is ask, buddy.”
“Thanks,” he replied, genuinely humbled. “I appreciate that.”
“I can’t believe youhavea portfolio. That doesn’t sound like you.”
Nick chose to make a joke out of his totally truthful reply, to keep the conversation from getting too heavy. “Well, after you make the first million, it’s pretty hard to store that many small bills in your mattress. Gotta put it someplace.”
His mother passed the basket of dinner rolls around the table again. “You said you’re moving again soon, Nick?”
“Yeah, I’ve been crashing at the Romanos’ while I found a new place.” Explaining about Poppy, his engagement, the fight, getting thrown out of their apartment, felt too daunting so he skipped it. What did it all matter at this point anyway? It was in the past. “I’ll be moving in as soon as...” How was he supposed to explain handing his credit card over to Livie’s sister and her cousin and begging them to sort his shit out? “As soon as the decorators finish up.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Decorators? Fancy.”
“I didn’t have time to deal with it myself.”
“She’s very nice.”
“Who?”
“Livie.” His mother turned to Chris. “Olivia Romano. She’s how I found your brother. Her family owns Romano’s Bar. Remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. You guys dating?”
Were they? He and Livie had never really labeled what they were doing. He’d pointedly avoided labeling it, because then it would start to feel real. Permanent. And they both knew it wasn’t. Right?
“Um, we’re sort of—”
“You should bring her to dinner,” his mother said, turning her bright, hopeful smile on him.
“What?”
“Livie. We should have her over for dinner. Maybe her parents, too?”
“Her mother’s dead.”
“Oh. Poor thing. Her father, then.”
Sweat prickled across the back of his neck. His heart was starting to pound. They hadn’t just welcomed him back, they were clearing out a Nick-sized space for him in their lives, ready to slot Livie in at his side, exactly like Chris, with a goddamned wife and kid and a 401K he did not need. The old resentment flared up again, hot and bright. He wasn’t Chris, goddammit. He never would be.
“I don’t think—”
“Relax, Mom.” Chris laughed. “He just came back home. Give him a little space.”
She turned back to him with that awful, guilt-inducing, grateful smile. “I’m just happy to have you home, Nicky. Back where you belong.”
But did he? Did he really belong here? Had he ever? Maybe the past eight years were really how it should have always been. Perfect Chris with his perfect wife and kid, here making his parents proud, and Nick the disappointment, out there on his own. If he stayed here, would it all go back to how it had been before, him forever beating against the walls, trying to break out of the too-tight mold they’d stuck him in, and them, forever disappointed that he couldn’t just make himself smaller?
