I’mgoingto find the person behind this.
And when I do, I’m going to kill them.
Chapter Thirteen
SOFIA
On the bingo card of things I could have imagined for this year, waking up to find Nico sleeping on the floor beside my bed wasn’t even closeto an option.
But there he is, stretched out on the floor not five feet away from me. One arm is thrown carelessly to the side, the other rests on his flat stomach. His shirt is pulled up slightly, and his shorts rest low on his hips, exposing an inch or so of bronzed skin. A line of light brown hair trails beneath his waistband, directing my attention to things I’d tried to forget.
Like my first time with Nico. My first time ever, actually.
I don’t think I could everforget that.
We were sixteen, and had been together for over a year by then. It had been long enough to declare our love for each other, long enough to start making plans for our future, and long enough for me to be sure Nico was the one I wanted to share my first time with.
I was nervous, of course. Having sex for the first time is a big deal, after all. And no matter how confident you are, I think everyone finds things to be insecure about—would I look okaynaked, would he be disappointed, what if I did it wrong, would it hurt as much as some of the girls at school said it did?
But it was Nico’s first time, too, so that made it less scary. Like everything else, it was the two of us supporting each other.
I still remember how careful he was with me. How worried he was about hurting me. I remember just how his bedroom looked, with the flower petals he’d scattered across the bed and the scented candles he’d set up all around the room. And I remember how nervous he looked, though he was trying to hide it.
And though it did hurt a little at first, I remember how Nico made sure I felt good. How he told me over and over how beautiful I was, how much he loved me, and how lucky he was to have me.
He admitted, after, that he’d found a copy of theKama Sutrato study. Pink cheeked, he confessed, “I’m not sure how some of those poses would work. But I thought it might have some tips for how to make it good for you.”
Oh, howI loved him back then.
In the years since, I’ve wondered if the love we shared was all in my head. If it was all one-sided. If Nico had been using me, and once it was time to go away to college, he’d decided it was time to move on.
I turn onto my side so I can get a better look at Nico. In sleep, his features are softer. With his hair all tousled, he looks younger. More carefree. As I’m looking at him, a sliver of light peeks through a crack between the curtains and hits his face, casting a golden glow across it.
My heart tugs, as it’s been doing more and more often.
The hurt I’ve held onto for the last eighteen years pulls a little further away.
Though that nagging voice of logic keeps popping up to urge caution when it comes to Nico, I’m listening to it less with each passing day.
My seventeen, eighteen, nineteen-year-old self thought Nico never loved me at all.
But at thirty-five, I’m not as sure.
Young love is bright and pure and full of optimism. But it’s not always strong enough to withstand the storms it comes up against.
In our story, Elio Parisi was the storm. And back then, neither of us were strong enough to resist it.
But does that mean Nico never loved me? Or was he a young man who was hurt and confused and made the wrong decision?
DidImake the wrong decision by not trying harder to explain?
Hindsight is twenty-twenty, was another of my mom’s favorite sayings.Don’t beat yourself up over things that happened before,she’d tell me.You did your best. Learn from it and move forward.
If I take her advice, what does that mean for me and Nico?
Do I forgive him? Can I separate Nico from what his father did? When things go back to normal—at least, I hopethings go back to normal—do I keep Nico in my life or let him go?
Before I came here, the answers would have been simple. But now? After seeing him again? After spending time with him? After discovering he’s still that same Nico I fell in love with, with his stubborn protectiveness and his generosity and the way my heart still skips whenever he touches me?
