The weightless feeling in Vincent’s chest ballooned. He watched them, unmoving, unspeaking, for fear that he would interrupt the moment and end it prematurely. In Mal’s face, Vincent saw his truth. The love Mal had for Nikki wasn’t out of respect for Vincent, or put on in order to win Vincent’s favor—it stemmed from his soul, shone luminously in his heart, and reflected quiet pride in his eyes. In Mal’s heart, Nikki wasn’t an accessory he had to tolerate, or an obstacle he wished wasn’t in the way. He loved her like she was his own. He loved her even though Vincent hadn’t asked him to, and had let her into his heart without question.
Seeing Mal look at her like that, Vincent understood how he truly felt, marveled at it, and was humbled by it.
A realization dawned, casting its light across Vincent’s mind in a yawning, spanning way that woke Vincent to its presence. A chill swept from the base of his skull, down his neck, and through his shoulders. It lurched in his gut, then tightened it, and pushed the breath from his lungs with its overwhelming force. The man who stood across from him, who treated his daughter with such care and unyielding love, was the man Vincent would marry.
There was no one else for him.
“I’m so happy!” Nikki laughed. “Can I name them, please?Please?Both of them are going to be girls, right? Girls are the best. Boys are stinky and mean.”
“I don’t know.” Mal looked from her to Vincent, snapping Vincent out of his thoughts. The weightless feeling diminished, but it didn’t disappear. Vincent wasn’t sure his heart would ever beat the same again. “I was thinking of asking your dad for his help with naming them… but I’d be happy to hear your ideas, too. Maybe we could all sit down together sometime and come up with a list.”
Vincent’s reply swelled in the back of his throat, and he was sure it would tumble from his tongue drunkenly, but to his ear, his voice sounded unchanged. A small miracle, since when Vincent looked at Mal now, having seen what he’d seen and having acknowledged how he felt, every molecule in his body hummed in unison, like all his life he’d been living disjointed, and at last he’d found his missing piece. “I think that’s a fantastic idea.”
“Yay!” Nikki hopped away from Mal and punched the air. “This is the bestever.”
Seeing Mal sitting there, glowing, love for Nikki in his eyes and hope for a future he could only imagine burning in his heart, Vincent thought so, too.
43
Vincent
That September, beneath a summer sun that refused to concede to fall, Vincent stood by Mal’s side as young students lined up before the three central doors of Crossroads International School. Amongst them was Nikki. She wore the same navy blue pleated skirt and white, crest-embossed shirt that all the other students wore, but her backpack, aHeaven, Lockedexclusive, set her apart from the crowd. Every now and then, she nervously glanced over her shoulder at Vincent, and from time to time, when their eyes met, she’d wave. Her fear of the unknown made her twitchy and oppressed her spirit, and the bright, hilarious, energetic little girl that Vincent knew so well took backseat to a timid, quiet child who wasn’t sure what to do, or how she’d fare without her father.
The blow was made particularly painful by Nikki’s recent return from Corvallis. She’d spent all of July with her mother, and would have spent June and August, too, had Melissa not needed to travel abroad for several summer conferences. Vincent was glad to have her back and wasn’t ready to let her go again. Not even the freedom of having an empty house made up for it. Taking Mal on the couch without worry of discovery was fun, but Nikki was Vincent’s raison d'être, and without her, he was lost.
Every time she waved, and Vincent saw the concern niggling behind her calm facade, he itched to step forward and take her out of the line—to bring her home and see to her education himself.
If it wasn’t for Mal, who stood at his side, whispering reassurances into his ear whenever Vincent tensed, Vincent was sure he’d fold beneath the pressure.
“She’s going to be fine,” Mal promised. “This is the hardest part. When you come to pick her up at the end of the day, she’s not going to want to leave.”
“What if she doesn’t make friends?”
A dark-haired boy standing in line tapped Nikki’s shoulder, and she stopped making pleading looks in Vincent’s direction to face him. Vincent stood too far away to overhear their conversation, but based on the boy’s gestures, he was talking about Nikki’s backpack. Undoubtedly, aHeaven, Lockedconversation was about to ensue.
“You were saying?” Mal asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It could still be—”
Nikki laughed, covering her mouth with her hands. Her back was to Vincent now, but her body language had gone from tense and flighty to relaxed—perhaps even excited.
“She’s going to be fine,” Mal said. “You raised a good girl. She’s going to make fast friends and her teachers will love her. And I guarantee you, you’ll be hearing more about her first day than you ever will aboutHeaven, Locked.She’ll tell you what crayons she used while coloring, what her new best friend’s hair color is, what she liked best about her teacher, about recess, about gym class, about the dots on the ceiling tiles…”
The line started to move. Nikki’s attention broke from the boy, and she stood on her toes to peep over the line in Vincent’s direction. He waved, and she stretched her arm over her head and waved back. Her energy had returned, and the cheerful look in her eyes convinced him that he was doing the right thing. Nikki would be fine. It was himself he needed to worry about.
The line moved forward, children scrambling up the steps and entering the school through its main three doors. Nikki climbed the stairs with abandon, her new friend racing after her, and only paused when she was in the doorway. She waved one last time and gave Vincent a dazzling smile, then darted inside and was gone. Vincent watched until all of the children had entered and the doors closed. Then, shoulders sagging, he let out a stale breath and diverted his attention to Mal.
Mal’s attention had been on the doors to the school until Vincent looked his way. He had one hand on his rounded stomach, the other left loose at his side. At six months pregnant with twins, his mobility was reduced, but he never complained. He’d insisted on being there to see Nikki off, waking up alongside Vincent that morning when his alarm went off, despite Vincent’s insistence that he sleep. It had been a month since Mal’s lease had expired, and instead of renewing it, he’d come to stay with Vincent. The chaos of the move had been stress he hadn’t needed, and Nikki’s nonstop excitement at having Mal live with them had robbed them of more sleep than Vincent would have liked, but having Mal beside him every morning was worth the drawbacks. The conclusion Vincent had drawn three months ago hadn’t changed. The way his heart beat for Mal, the same weightless, flying feeling, hadn’t faded. He was there in the morning to kiss Mal back to sleep after his alarm went off, and there in the evening, after Nikki went to bed, to draw Mal to his chest and discuss the past, the present, and the future in hushed voices as they wound down for the night.
It was love unlike anything Vincent had shared with Melissa—an all-encompassing baring of their souls that was raw and honest and heartfelt. Mal, who’d experienced more of life than Vincent had, helped Vincent navigate his fears and see life through a retrospective lens. Vincent, in turn, liked to think that he invigorated Mal—gave him hope, and energy, and strength. No path was so lonely when they walked it together.
Vincent never wanted to walk it alone again.
Mal smiled. “You’re looking at me like you’re shell-shocked. Is that our cue to get going? She won’t be coming back out until the day is done, so unless you want to stand here for the next, oh… seven hours, I think we’re okay to go.”
Vincent blinked out of his stupor. He nodded, then held his hand out for Mal. Mal wove their fingers together, and they left the school grounds and headed down the street for where Vincent had parked.
“When did she grow up?” Vincent asked, finally finding his tongue. “I remember when she was born like it was just a few months ago… but now she’s off to school on her own, making friends, having a life that I’m not there to supervise… when did that happen? How could it have happened this fast?”
