39. Nico
39
NICO
LOVE AND DOUBT
M y hands are growing wet as I wait in the visitor’s parlour of Nightinghale Rehab Centre. I wipe them on top of my jeans-clad thighs before I tap my fingers in its usual rhythm of three. My tongue won’t stop swiping at my piercing, even if I try to control myself. I’m too wired to do anything but be at the mercy of my swirling emotions right now.
Marie’s therapist told us on the phone a few days ago that she couldn’t have too many visitors at once, which broke my mum’s heart a little, I think, and with her sister waiting in the town car, that left only me. Lana came back when the three weeks were up and hasn’t left West Hill in the past four days, waiting for Marie to be well enough to have visitors. I grinded my teeth when Giulia sacrificed her visit for Lana, simply texting Dr Linberg, Marie’s therapist, to ask if that wouldn’t be too much for Marie. Her response was that it was actually a positive outcome, which I don’t fucking understand.
She might be Marie’s sister but she’s been oblivious to her suffering and her first instinct was to take Ember away. I won’t forget that any time soon. Even if I’m mad at Marie for abandoning me, even if I want to irrationally yell at her even though she did something for herself for the first time, I’ll always protect her.
Ember coos at me from her carry cot, playing with the hanging toys. I lean down and toy with the plastic animals, their clinking sounds making her laugh. With that sound, it’s like the nervous energy running through me dissipates and I smile at my daughter.
I never imagined myself a father. But I believe it’s only because I hadn’t met Ember. I was born to be her dad. The knowledge is deeply seated into my bones. I’m always protective of the ones I love, but with Ember, I’m feral, a caged beast. If anyone thinks they can take her from me, I’ll carve their heart out of their chest with my bare hands and I won’t care about the mess of entrails and blood I make.
Just as red starts to fill my vision, the sweetest voice brings me back to the present moment. “Hi, Nico.”
I stand and in three measured steps that probably look like I’m in control when I’m nothing but, I close the distance between Marie and I. Her cheek is soft against the back of my fingers.
“You left,” I tell her.
The green pools hold me captive as they fill up with fresh tears that fall against my skin.
The next second, my lips land on Marie’s and she pulls on my teeshirt, clasping the fabric desperately. I close my eyes and let myself fall deeper into her. The taste of her tongue fills my mouth and I can’t help but cling to her, wrapping my body around hers, her chest to mine, hands roaming. I’m desperate to be inside her, not only physically but metaphorically, as much as she’s into me, inside my blood, carved into my heart. I need to be under her skin.
Did she think about me as much as I thought about her? Did sleep evade her like it did me because I couldn’t hold her soft body against mine?
When I pull away, I frame her face and lose myself into her deep green eyes. They’re so much brighter than they were only a month ago. Whatever she is going through here, it’s for the best. It shows in the way she stands, in how perfectly pink her cheeks are, her bashful smile and biting of her lower lip that tells me exactly where her mind has gone.
Whistles sound behind us and other patients make lewd gestures. The way Marie giggles clue me in on the teasing and that they must be her friends or companions. “You made friends,” I comment dryly. I think I’m jealous. I don’t know them and they make me uncomfortable. This is something new again when it comes to her and it makes me want to be hers even more. I swallow it and observe as Marie shrugs.
“Turns out, I’m not the only one who felt unseen and chose alcohol as a way to make themselves feel better,” she says brightly.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Her laugh dies and I feel like an asshole but she needs to know there’s nothing wrong with her and she is loved exactly the way that she is.
“The self-deprecation shit.” I take her hand in mine and thread our fingers together before giving it the back of it a kiss. I pick up Ember and sit her on my lap. Immediately, Marie relaxes and plays with her, almost fearful to take her in her arms. “I adore you exactly as you are, Marie. And Ember does, too. Don’t you, Bibi?”
“Baba.”
We both gasp at Ember’s first word, or babbling or whatever the fuck that was. Our gaze collide and my cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. Fireworks shoot up my spine and my heart rate kicks up in my chest. I haven’t done anything but it feels much more monumental. Any resentment loses its grasp on my brain as I watch Marie interact with her daughter.
“Say that again, Bibi. Can you say ‘baba’?” Marie asks and Ember repeats the word, over and over, laughing and clapping her little hands.
“Andrea has been trying to have her say ‘zio’ for weeks now,” I tell Marie.
“Well.” She straightens up and caresses my cheek in a tender move. “‘Baba’ is actually close to ‘babbu’, which means ‘father’ in Kalliste. I wouldn’t be surprised if Giulia tried to teach her that while I was away.”
I don’t need for my daughter’s first word to be baba or babbu to know that I’m her father but it’s touching nonetheless and definitely something Giulia would do. She’s never fully forgiven herself for what happened to me earlier this year. I press a hand to the bullet wound at my chest, the phantom pain throbbing with the emotion rising inside my ribcage. Ever since Marie and Ember entered my life, there’s been a lot of that where it used to be all dead and quiet as winter night. Can’t say I mind.
Our laughter dies down and I clear my throat, unsure how to approach this.
“You lied to me, Marie.”
She drops her gaze and it makes me feel uneasy. That’s not how it should be between us but there’s no other way for me to broach the subject than be brutal about it. “I’m proud of you for doing what you needed, but you didn’t talk to me. I thought I was important to you,” I say and for the first time in my life, my throat clogs with something I don’t recognise. Like the emotions are going to take over.
Marie turns her front to me and lands a hand on my thigh, running three circles in one way and three the other, until my shoulders drop slightly.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Her voice cracks. “I was spiralling, and thought I was gonna be a danger to Ember. I needed to come here and take care of my disease. I… I’ve been so used to being disregarded. I thought it was better this way.”
“After everything I’ve done for you, I thought you knew how much I love you. What I would do for you. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I place my hand on top of hers to stop her motion and lift her chin up with the other. There’s so much pain in there and I know she’s my mirror. “I just need you to be okay,” I whisper. “That’s all that matters to me.”
“Once I’m better, I will prove to you everyday how much I love you, too, Nico Capaldi.”
The words land inside me. Soothing. Tempting. But I’m not sure I can believe her.
She leans forward to kiss my lips and I let her but I don’t deepen the kiss. Instead, I change the topic, uncomfortable with not knowing how to heal from the pain she caused me yet.
“I’m not the only visitor you’ll have today,” I tell her and she quirks a brow.
“Is Gigi here?”
“No. Giulia isn’t coming.” Before I have time to regret letting her sister into her life when she is vulnerable, I tell her why. “Lana is.”
Marie’s head snaps up. “What?” Then, she recoils slightly and I wince. Definitely not my best move but I’m out of my depth, not for the first time. Marie has the right to make choices and decisions for herself and I would hate myself if I were to prevent her from being the leader of her own life and own healing. “What does that mean?”
“When you admitted yourself here, I was… doing my job. We got to Misha Petrov’s second and found out where he was hiding. So we called Lana. She found out you were here that night and knew you’d be able to have visitors now so she flew again a few days ago, waiting for you.”
She sighs, her back hitting the chair. She looks older all of a sudden and I hate this for her. “You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to.” I clasp her thigh with my tattooed hand. I don’t think I’m doing this for her. Maybe it’s for me. To see the evidence of who I am to her. Because what if after she speaks to her sister, she leaves, this time permanently? What if she takes Ember with her?
Marie’s soft hand lands on mine. She starts to tap on top of it. Three. A pause. Three. A pause. Calming me in my favoured way. When I peer up, she has a distant look, like she’s lost to her thoughts. Then, she must come to a decision. She squares her shoulders. Her eyes are harsher as she declares, “I want to see her. It’s time. I don’t want this to fester inside me any longer.”
After another kiss that should have lasted longer, and a warm embrace with Ember squished between us, I tell her I’ll be back tomorrow and get her sister, praying to a God I don’t believe in that I made the right choice, and that the feeling of betrayal I have inside won’t become its own monster.