Nico studies the pepper with the intensity of a surgeon. Without looking up at me, he replies, “I ordered some. Last night. They should be delivered today.”
This is all so unexpected, I’m not sure what to do with it.
Nico believing me when I told him the truth. Rushing off to confront his father, and forcing him to admit what he did. Coming back and apologizing. Not just apologizing, but swearing to do whatever he could do to make up for his mistakes. Pleading with me to stay. To let him protect me.
And this morning; cooking breakfast. Taking the day off from work. Paying who knows how much to get the neurologist to come here for my follow up. Ordering jigsaw puzzles for me…
“Nico,” I say. “What’s going on here?”
“What do you mean?”
“All of this.” I nod at the array of ingredients and utensils on the island. “Cooking. Taking off work. Bringing the doctor here. Buying puzzles. It’s just?—”
He looks up at me. Sorrow darkens his gaze. “I know it’s not even close to enough. Nothing could be. Not after… But I want you to be comfortable here. Not to feel like you’re an unwanted guest.”
“Oh.”
“Is it dumb? The puzzles? Maybe you don’t even like them anymore. I didn’t even think?—”
My heart tugs.
It doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him.
But I know he’s trying.
“I still like puzzles,” I reply. “I have a bunch of them at home. In fact, that’s one of the last things I remember—sitting in bed,trying to decide whether to pay for expedited shipping on the puzzle I wanted to order, or wait for regular.”
Nico drops the knife with a clatter. “Shit.”
I jolt in my seat. My pulse skips. “What? Is something wrong?”
“No. Sorry. Nothing’s wrong.” He hurries out of the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “I just remembered something. I’ll be right back.”
While he’s gone, I look around the kitchen, focusing on the decor in an attempt to distract myself from the mess of emotions churning inside me. It’s a large space, easily half the size of my apartment, with glossy marble counters that sparkle as the sun hits them and black steel appliances. Everything in here is black or white—white cabinets, black coffee maker, black and white paintings on the walls, and shiny black tiles on the floor. It’s an impressive room, for sure. Expensive, no doubt. But I think I prefer my little kitchen with its mish-mash of colors and candid photos of me and my mom decorating the walls.
A pang of sorrow hits me.
It’s been five years since my mom died, and I still miss her every day.
If she were here, I could talk to her about Nico. I could ask her why she sent him away. I could tell her about my mixed-up feelings. How it feels strange to be here with him, but natural, too.
I could ask her why I want to forgive Nico, even after he hurt me so badly. I could ask her what she thinks I should do.
But she’s gone, so it’s up to me to work through this.
“Got them,” Nico announces as he comes back into the kitchen. He has a phone in one hand and a laptop, the other. “I can’t believe I forgot to give these to you right away.”
“Give me what?” I already have the burner phone Nico loaned me. And the jerks who attacked me probably wiped my laptop days ago and resold it.
“A new phone and laptop,” he replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then he sets the two items in front of me with a small flourish.
“Um.” I eyeball the expensive iPhone and MacBook he just presented me with. “Where did these come from? Because they’re not mine.”
Nico shoves his hands into his pockets. “The laptop is new. I had it delivered along with the puzzles. And the phone I’ve had for a couple of days, but I finally got all your data restored on it last night.”
“All my data? How? You don’t have my account?—”
Oh. Right.
