“Hypothetically, if I hug you—what happens?”
“Unless you’ve developed masochistic tendencies, I’d advise against trying.”
“I think I’m willing to risk it.”
I can’t hide the smile tugging at one corner of my mouth.
“You think you can live without your arms?” she asks.
For the first time in five long years, I laugh. Loud. Real.
She stares at me, incredulous. Her murderous expression doesn’t waver—but her body reacts. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but I catch it.
Her breathing shifts when that familiar spark flickers between us.
My smile settles in, permanent.
“All right. I’ll try again tomorrow,” I say.
She takes a moment, processing the same thing I felt.
“What time would you like me to come back?”
“Quarter to never works just fine.”
I click my tongue.
“Unfortunately, my schedule’s full then. But we can try any other time between midnight and eleven fifty-nine.”
She closes her eyes, finally accepting that I’m not going anywhere.
“What do you want, Nero? Really—what do you want?”
“Right now? To know if that house is vacant,” I say, tipping my head toward the place next door.
“No. You are not renting the house next to mine!” she snaps—answering the question without realizing it.
She drops her head for a second. When she speaks again, her voice is tired.
What are you trying to get with all this?”she asks—for the first time showing vulnerability.
I realize I was wrong earlier. Nina isn’t exactly the same.
There are lines on her face that weren’t there before. Her shoulders carry a weight I never saw. And there’s an exhaustion in her eyes I wish I’d never witnessed.
Especially one I wish I weren’t responsible for.
That’s why I answer honestly—without shame—even knowing she isn’t ready to hear it.
“You, Nina. You. My son. Our family.”
Her laugh is bitter.
“You’re five years too late, Nero.”
***
I slam the car door and immediately three pairs of eyes lock on me.
