Page 38 of Nico
He drew lazy circles on her back, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine as silence settled comfortably between them. The nightenveloped them, a cocoon shielding them from all worries and regrets. In that quiet, they found peace, a fragile, precious thing that neither wanted to shatter.
"I missed you," she whispered, her voice muffled against his skin.
He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. "I missed you more than I can say. I won't let anything come between us again."
She smiled, feeling the promise settle deep within her heart. Outside, the world continued its restless turn, but inside their embrace, time seemed to pause, just for them.
"Tell me about her."
He shifted so he could stare into her eyes, pleased that she would express an interest in his daughter.
"She's beautiful." He said simply.
The pride in his deep voice had her smiling.
"I sound like a typical father."
"You sound like a proud one," She corrected.
"Well, she is. Blonde curls that refuse to be tamed, and she's an artist."
Her brows lifted. "Like her dad?"
"She paints." He was happy he could share the topic with her. "Not quite two and so smart. She's going to outpace me when it comes to talent."
He chuckled softly, his eyes distant for a moment as memories flickered across his face. "She loves sunsets. Sometimes she'll drag me outside, paintbrush in hand, just to capture the way the light hits the clouds. I think she sees the world in colors I can't even imagine."
Her smile softened, warmth blooming in her chest. "She sounds incredible."
"She is. Her room is done up in pearl pink and she insists on having a story read to her every night. My parents and sister spoil her. Not to mention the staff." He stroked her back absently. "At first, when I first met her, I had my reservations. I wondered how the hell I was going to navigate the journey. A little girl. I also wondered if she would somehow blame me for not being part of her life."
"I'm sure she's too young to hold that against you and when she's old enough, you can explain it to her. What about her mother? Has she called?"
He shook his head. "No. And I don't expect she will."
She squeezed his hand, offering silent comfort. "Maybe she just needs time," she murmured. "Or maybe she doesn't know what to say."
He sighed, a mix of longing and acceptance threading through his words. "Whatever happens, I'm focusing on what I have now. On my daughter. And on you."
Her eyes glistened with emotion as she leaned in, resting her forehead against his. The connection between them felt stronger than ever, built on honesty, hope, and the gentle promise of tomorrow.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke, content to let the quiet fill the room. The promise of new beginnings, fragile but bright, lingered between them like the first blush of dawn.
She trailed her fingers through the denseness of his chest hairs, wondering if she should bring it up.
"You have questions."
His uncanny ability to read her threw her for a minute. "I hate when you do that."
He merely grinned at her and waited.
With a sigh, she shifted her gaze to his face and met his eyes. "I don't know how to feel about you sharing a child with another woman. It seems so intimate, somehow. You planted your seed inside her and you now share a daughter."
His eyes held hers steadily. "That might be the case and for the rest of Gracie's life, Brigette will always be her mother. If and when the time comes and she wants to become part of my daughter's life, I will not stand in her way. She signed a legal document yes, but if in the future she wants to come and see Gracie, I will allow it. There was passion between us, I will not deny it. I was never in love with her. I've never been in love before. Until now." He trailed a finger over her cheek. "There's no need for you to feel an ounce of jealousy. It's not necessary."
"Still."
"I want children with you." His eyes were burning with intensity. "Is that something you can wrap your head around?"
