Page 91 of The Head Game

“Nothing.” It sounded like Nico was smiling. “Just wanted to be close to my fiancé.”

August stared down at his hands beneath the soapy surface of the water, guilt chewing up his insides. “Well, uh, about that. Could we talk a little tonight?” he asked quietly.

“Sure.” Nico straightened. “What’s up?”

“Not … not right now.” August shook the water from his hands. “Later, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

The microwave beeped and a moment later, Anika held out a plate. “Here, be careful, it’s going to be hot.”

Nico let out an annoyed grumble, but he peeled away from August and wandered to the counter carrying the plate.

It wobbled a little in his hand, then slipped from his fingers, crashing to the floor, splattering food and shards of ceramic everywhere.

“Fuck!” Nico swore.

When he shifted like he was going to move, August barked, “Stay there! You have bare feet and I don’t want you to cut yourself. We’ll get this cleaned up but don’t move.”

He hastily dried his hands.

“I didn’t mean to drop it,” Nico said testily, scowling over his shoulder.

“Of course not,” Anika said, her tone gentle. “It was my fault. I should have realized your hand isn’t quite ready to hold something that heavy.”

“I …” Nico clenched his eyes shut. “I just hate not being able to do shit.”

“I know, sweetheart.” She carefully picked her way toward him. “But in the meantime, let us help you.”

And then Isa and Piet and Noor were there, talking over each other, asking if Nico was okay. August could see the frustration growing on Nico’s face and he raised his voice. “Can someone show me where the broom and dustpan are?”

“I have no idea.” Isa gave him a funny look. “Surely you know your way around this place better than we do, August.”

“I … uh.” August rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think I did some redecorating recently,” Nico said with a shrug. “Rearranged stuff.”

August squinted at him. Was … was Nico covering for him? Did he know the truth?

But this wasn’t the time or place to ask, so August went in search of cleaning supplies and finally found a utility closet.

Once the floor was clean and it was safe for Nico to walk around with bare feet, Isa made a clucking sound. “You should be wearing shoes, sweetheart. It’s much better for your balance and—”

“I know, Mom. I didn’t think about it when I came out of my room. Can you stop with the lectures?”

“Your mother’s just trying to help,” Noor said.

Nico clutched his head. “I know. God, I know. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m just tired all of the time, my head hurts, and I can’t do anything. I need some fucking peace and quiet for twenty minutes, okay?”

He turned and walked away, the slam of his bedroom door loud enough that it reverberated around the condo, echoing in the silence.

“Are we pushing too hard?” Isa asked.

“Maybe a little,” Anika said. “He’s very frustrated. He doesn’t mean to take it out on you but he’s going through a lot.”

Pieter hummed quietly. “The doctor said the surgery could make his emotions more volatile for a while.”

“I know. He’s … not himself,” Isa said. “And I hate seeing him struggle.”

---