Page 15 of Not For Keeps
I press a kiss to the top of her head and close my eyes for a second. I don’t trust Nico. I never will. But Maya deserves to decide who she lets into her life…even if I want to shield her from anything that could possibly hurt her.
Even if it kills me a little to open that door.
The first thing I feel is the wind.
It’s a chilly Saturday morning, one of those crisp fall days where the air smells like damp leaves and distant barbecue smoke. Maya walks a few steps ahead of me, her curls bouncing with every stride, her little fists stuffed deep into the pockets ofher jacket.
She hasn’t said much since we left the house. I haven’t either.
A few days have passed since I told Maya about Nico, and now we’re meeting at the park near the library—the one with the big stone fountain and wide walking path. It’s public, open, neutral. Somewhere safe.
He was already here when we pulled into the parking lot. I saw him from the car. Sitting on the bench near the fountain, tapping his foot. He stood when we got out, and for a second, he looked exactly the way he used to. Tall. Put together. Clean-shaven.
Maya slows down and turns back to me. I nod once, just enough to sayyou’ve got this, even though every part of me wants to scoop her back into the car and drive away to the safety of our home.
She steps closer to my side. I rest my hand gently on her back as we walk the last few feet together. Nico straightens. He looks at Maya, really looks at her, and for a second, he doesn’t say anything. Just stares.
Finally, he clears his throat. “Hi,” he says, voice quiet. “You must be Maya.”
She nods once.
“I’m—” He glances at me then back to her. “I’m…”
“Nico,” I cut in, my tone calm but firm.
His eyes flick to mine, startled.
“This is Nico, Maya.” I smooth a hand down her back. “He wanted to meet you.”
For a beat, no one speaks. The title he clearly wanted to claim—dad—hangs in the air, unsaid. Maya tilts her head, studying him.
“It’s really good to meet you,” Nico says quickly, adjusting. “You…you look just like your mom.”
Maya glances up at me then back at him. “I don’t know what you look like.”
I feel his discomfort like static in the air. But he nods. “That’s fair. I haven’t been around.”
“Why not?” she asks plainly.
He shifts his weight. “That’s a good question.”
“She’s allowed to ask,” I say, my voice soft but firm.
“I know.” He swallows. “I wasn’t ready. I was scared. And I made mistakes.”
Maya studies him for a long time. “You missed my first day of school. And my birthdays.”
“I know,” he says, quieter now. “I’m really sorry.”
Maya turns to me. “Can we sit?”
I nod and guide her to the bench across from Nico’s. She hops up and swings her legs. Nico sits, too—tentatively, like any wrong move will make Maya bolt.
He tries to make small talk. Asks her about school, favorite subjects, cartoons. She answers in short sentences, polite but distant. She doesn’t smile.
He tells a joke that probably worked in his head. She blinks at him. I want to step in. Smooth it over. But I don’t. I let the silence stretch. Because she’s handling this. And I promised myself I’d follow her lead. And because it isn’t my job to make things more comfortable for him.
Nico leans forward, forearms on his knees. “You know, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a doctor.”
