Page 12 of Nico
"You wanted quiet." He reminded her.
"Hmm." She snuggled, something she had never done before, and inhaled his scent. "You smell good."
"You stock some very flavorful body gel."
"The best. I like it on you."
"Are we still going for quiet?"
"Yep. In a minute."
They sat that way for ten minutes before he took her up and went into the bedroom.
*****
In Georgia, inside a very elegant living room, a couple was having an argument.
"You never told this man that he had a child." Julian Thorpe the second pointed out. "You've carried this burden of taking care of the child on your own. It's time for him to stand up to his responsibilities." He flicked a hand at the child and barely looked at the adorable toddler with her curly blonde hair andbottle green eyes who was at the moment asleep in the swing. "I already told you that I don't want a child my dear, especially one that belongs to another man. We'll be moving to Italy to live there. You have to make a choice."
"I'm afraid of what they'll say." Brigette wasn't wringing her hands, but she was close to doing so.
Julian's expression was resolute, eyes hard as marble. "You can't hide from this, Brigette. Secrets have a way of coming out, especially ones with eyes just like his." He gestured, not unkindly, toward the sleeping child. "You have to decide if you want a life built on truth, or on running away."
Brigette's shoulders drooped, the silk of her blouse crumpling beneath the weight of her turmoil. "I never wanted..." Her voice trembled, but she caught herself, gaze darting to the small, peaceful figure in the swing. "It isn't that simple, Julian. Telling him could ruin everything. And what if he... what if he doesn't want her?"
"Then at least you'll know. At least she'll know." Julian's voice softened, the edge of anger yielding to something like compassion. "But I can't ask you to come with me to Italy whileyour heart is still here. Or with her." His words hung between them, fragile as spun glass.
Brigette stared at the window, the Georgia sun slanting gold across the room. "I need time," she whispered.
"You have until the end of the week," Julian replied, his tone final but not without regret. He crossed the room, pausing only once to look at the child, then walked out, the door closing silently behind him.
Brigette knelt by the swing, brushing a wisp of hair from her daughter's forehead. The little girl murmured in her sleep, oblivious.
"I promise, sweetheart," Brigette whispered, voice thick with tears, "I'll make the right choice. For both of us."
In the hush of the elegant room, as dusk crept in, only the rhythmic sway of the swing and the soft exhale of the sleeping child remained.
*****
Unaware that his life was about to be turned upside down, Nico cradled the woman in his arms and felt washed with emotions that threatened to overwhelm. The lovemaking had taken on a gentle tone. He had gone slow, somehow realizing that she needed slow and gentle. After the conversation with her mother, he had seen the look of defeat on her spectacular face.
He could not help the thought that flitted through his mind of finding the woman and giving her a piece of his mind for putting her through this.
He had done the next best thing by trying to rid her of the pain the argument had caused and make her think of something else.
He believed he had accomplished that much.
But as the silence lengthened between them, Nico traced patterns across her bare shoulder, his mind already miles away from the soft cocoon of the bed. He wondered at the mysteriesswirling behind her shuttered eyes, the things unsaid, always unsaid, that haunted her silences more than any confession might. He wanted to ask, to press his lips to her brow and coax the truth from her, ask her about her feelings, what she wanted from him, but kept quiet. He did not want her revisiting the argument.
He believed she had been through enough. He wanted to tell her that he was here to share her fears and disappointments and be a sounding board if she truly needed one. Statements like those would have to wait for an opportune time. He was still examining his own feelings, a myriad of complex ones that left him feeling slightly shattered and confused.
Having never felt this way before, he had a lot of thinking to do and she hadn't given him any promises or commitment. He would have to bide his time and take it slow. He had to give her that. After hearing the conversation between her and her mother, he knew there was hurt and pain there. Which would account for the fact that she was commitment shy.
The room was dim, curtains pulled against the tangerine dusk, and still he could see the faint shimmer of tears she fought to hide. In that quiet, Nico realized he was standing at the edge of something vast and uncertain, a precipice where love and fear collided.
So, he would give them both time. He supposed they needed it. In the meantime, he would continue to shower her with attention, making her know that she could talk to him about anything. He wanted to cement the fact that he was here and always would be.
He pulled her closer, the only answer he had left, anchoring her to him when words could do no good. In the hush that followed, only the slow, steady heartbeat beneath his palm tethered him to hope, the hope that, whatever truth dawned come morning, they might face it together.
