I don’t know how to answer, so I shake my head. “I’m not sure, honestly. What have you been thinking?”
“I miss her,” he says immediately. “I know we were never as close as you are with your mom, or, hell, as close asIam with your mom now. But... but she’s my mom, and I want to have her in my life. I want to be able to share things with her. Like... I honestly don’t even know if she knows about us. And what if, someday...” He trails off and closes his eyes, and then he leans into me again and his hand comes to rest on my chest. Quietly, he says, “What if someday we get married? I’d want her to be there. What if someday we have kids? I’d want... I’d want her to know them.”
My heart clenches, and I wrap both of my arms around him, pulling him up against me as best I can. I kiss his forehead, and he continues.
“I never wanted what happened between us. It hurt so much then. I-I know it was what I had to do at the time. It was necessary for my safety and well-being. I don’t regret it. But... but, god, Alex, if she’s changed...”
I let out a short breath and kiss his forehead again. Then I say the words I know he’s thinking. “And what if she hasn’t? How muchmorewill that hurt?”
“That’s why I don’t know what to do,” he admits. His hand slips out to my waist, and he squeezes me as though he needs to be even closer. “She... abandoned me once before, and if she lies or hasn’t really changed or doesn’t see anything wrong with what she did back then...”
I feel his jaw tighten, and he exhales a sharp breath before pushing away and looking up at me. His whole body shrinks a little as he blinks back a flash of what looks like uncertainty. And despair.His eyes drop to where his hand now rests on my chest.
And it hits me, hard. It’s not even anything he’s said, really. It’s just a sudden understanding of what his anxiety’s probably been telling him—not about his mom, but aboutmeand aboutus. And it’s dead wrong.
“Nico,” I breathe, shaking my head, “you know that I’d never, ever... do that.”
I can’t even say the words; it hurts too much to even acknowledge that he’d think I might leave him. But when he doesn’t refute it right away, I have my answer for that, too.
It’s immediately painful—a sharp sting square in the middle of my chest—and it takes all of my effort to not react outwardly. I’m sure that would just make things worse. Just like I’m sure he’s already feeling awful and uncertain and scared enough.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, and his hand slips down my chest until it falls away from me completely, breaking the contact. I suddenly feel cold and vulnerable, and it’s not a feeling I’m used to. I don’t particularly like it. “Sorry,” he continues, “I-I don’treallythink that. I... just...”
A voice in my head retorts something not so nice, but I hold it back, trying to reason it out. Of course he doesn’t really think I’d leave him. Right? Of course he’s just struggling because his mom, who was supposed to be the one person he could always trust to be there for him, unconditionally, played fucking awful games with his mental health.
Sheabandoned him.Shechose her abusive ex over him.Shelied to him.
But I’vealwaysbeen here for him. How could he think—
“Alex.” His hand cups my cheek, and he turns my face toward him. His eyes are pleading with me, and he shakes his head. “Sometimes my anxiety tells me things. That doesn’t mean I really believe them or that they’re true.”
I close my eyes briefly and nod. I’ve known that about his anxiety for a long time, and I hate that I’m feeling doubt about everything like this. I’ve never doubted before. I nod again. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” I laugh weakly. “Apparently I have some anxiety, too.”
He gives me a tight smile and leans in for a short, reassuring kiss. I want more, so I chase his lips as he goes to pull away. That earns me an actual smile and a cheeky shove with his hand on my chest. When our eyes meet, my heart stutters, and I reach up and brush his hair back from his forehead.
“I love you,” I say softly. “Always.”
“I love you, too.” He lets out a long, slow sigh and falls against me one more time, his head settling on my shoulder.
After a moment, he starts talking again, picking back up where we left off beforemyanxiety got the best of me. “The last couple of weeks have been really hard because her call did remind me of all that shit I’ve tried so hard to forget. And part of that was the fact that she abandoned me. And, yes, that reminder... it really fucked with my head.” His hand finds my stomach, and he sighs again. “But I knew it was just my anxiety. I knew you wouldn’t do that to me.”
I nod, and he continues.
“Um, so, it’s like you said—there’s this huge part of me that wants to call her back, but then, fuck, what if... what if she hasn’t changed? What then? I don’t know what to do.”
I press a kiss into his hair, wishing I had advice for him, but I really don’t. It’s a choice only he can make.
“I’ll be here for you, whatever you decide,” I assure him, and he huffs a laugh.
“You got nothing, really? No words of wisdom or five-step plan of attack?”
I shrug. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll make the right decision,whatever that is, and—”
“You know,” he cuts in, straightening up with a teasing smirk, “sometimes I like you better when you just boss me around.” He pokes my side with a wink, and when I roll my eyes, he laughs. Then his expression tightens again. “Seriously, though... if you were me, what would you do?”
I hesitate, studying his eyes for a second. Then shake my head. “I really don’t know. Although... um, I think...” I force a small smile and take one of his hands in mine. “I think you’ll be okay.”
His eyes narrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”
