CHAPTER 65
NINA MARCHESI
Kael’s plate is too full—not because he was served too much food, but because he’s eating very little.
Almost nothing. I watch him push his fork back and forth, and every now and then he lifts his eyes from the plate to look at me, to his right, or at his father, to his left, and I know this isn’t his independence taking a backseat.
It’s something else.
The restaurant hums with the energy of a Saturday night. Our table is full, exactly the way Kael wanted it. He’s spent the last few days talking about nothing but this dinner, and he arrived here bursting with excitement.
The stacks of presents waiting for him at home when he came back from the park with his father probably had a lot to do with that. Spread across our living room and my son’s bedroom are far more than the four gifts Kael expected to receive this year.
Despite my protests and my threats, his uncles crossed every possible line—and although I truly complained, my son’s joy at seeing all of it… nothing has ever made me happier.
My mother is talking with Atlas, Drako, and Apollo, all of them caught up in some random debate, and Nero’s gaze was locked exactly where mine was: on our son.
“What’s wrong, Kael?” I ask softly.
Kael bites his lower lip before tilting his head back and looking up at me.
“I think the money in my piggy bank won’t be enough to pay the bill,” he says in his normal voice. “There’s a lot of people here, Mom. So I’m eating just a little to save money.”
The table around us goes completely silent.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see everyone exchange looks, but I don’t take my attention away from the small blue eyes staring at me with expectation. My heart tightens.
No child should have to worry about things like this. But the frequency with which I have to tell my son he can’t have or do something because we don’t have the money led us here.
I lower my lips to his blond hair and take a deep breath.
“Sweetheart, Daddy can—” Nero starts, but I cut him off.
“There’s no need.” I lift my head and gently place my index and middle fingers under Kael’s chin. “You can eat all your food and order whatever else you want. There was more than enough in your piggy bank. Mommy promises.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, still uncertain.
I smile at him.
“Absolutely sure, love.”
His face lights up instantly, and Kael grabs his fork with renewed enthusiasm. He jumps back into the table conversation, being spoiled and adored by his family.
For a moment, I get lost in the image—the weight that had settled in my chest slowly dissolving as I realize that even if we don’t have money to throw around, my son already has more than I ever thought he would. He has everything I dreamed, day and night, that he would have.
A family.
I can’t stop myself from briefly closing my eyes and whispering a silent prayer, asking God not to take this from us. Not from him.
When I open my eyes again, I find Nero’s gaze fixed on my face, and I don’t look away.
A sigh of longing escapes my lips before I can stop it. But I suppose that when one of your deepest, most carefully guarded fantasies comes true, it’s hard to explain to your heart that not everything is exactly the way you wished it would be.
“I’m done, Mom,” Kael announces, pulling my attention away from Nero.
I look down at his plate and find it almost empty. He left only the peppers and rushes to justify himself before I can say anything.
“It’s my birthday, Mom. I don’t have to eat the peppers today, right?”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing and kiss the top of my boy’s head.
“No, sweetheart. Not today.”
When all the plates are empty and we’re satisfied, Kael looks at me expectantly. I laugh and nod.
He lifts his little hand, calling the waiter, who comes over immediately.
“Yes, sir,” the waiter says, making Kael put on a smug expression that—dear God—makes him look even more like his father.
“Check, please!” Kael chirped, puffing out his chest exactly the way he’d practiced.
None of us manage to keep the smiles off our faces.
The waiter nods, walks away, and a few minutes later returns with the small notebook holding the check. Kael looks at me again.
I open my purse and take out his little bag of coins.
My son climbs down from his chair when I hand it to him and walks to the restaurant’s register, holding the bill in one hand and the coins in the other, impossibly proud of himself.
“He’s been saving money for tonight for a year,” I explain to the adults at the table, who look amused and confused at the same time.
“Kael is a very independent child—these things matter to him. Even though he’s found new sources of income in the last few months.
” I shoot reproachful looks at my son’s uncles.
“Of course his savings wouldn’t be enough to pay the whole bill, but the manager already knows.
He’ll pay with what he has, and then I’ll come back and cover the rest.”
A collective ohhh goes around the table, and I laugh.
My mother and Nero are the only ones who react differently—the first because she already knew the plan, and the second because he’s far too busy looking at me in a way that makes my chest shake.
We stand to wait for Kael and leave the restaurant, and somehow I end up standing too close to Nero.
Somehow.
Maybe my body rebelled against my mind for a moment and decided it was a good idea to steal a little closeness.
My arm brushes against his as I slide my chair back under the table, and I have to fight the urge to close my eyes when Nero shifts and his fingers graze my waist.
Kael comes back, proud, holding the small receipt. His father lifts him, spinning him in the air and pulling the most delicious laughter from him.
Nero holds Kael as if he’s his entire world, and my mind instantly projects a thousand other moments I imagined so many times—but I shake my head, pushing those desires away.
I need to remember, I tell myself. I need to remember that Nero isn’t reliable. I’m not doing this for me—I’m doing this because there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for my son.
But the truth is, at any moment, Nero could leave again.
And the second that thought finishes forming, I feel ridiculous—because I can’t believe in it with the same conviction anymore.
I don’t know if it’s today, if it’s the full dinner table, if it’s the subtle touches, or if it’s the last few months—but the truth is that the certainties I once had about Nero are crumbling again, and I don’t know how to deal with that.
It was easier when my body and mind worked together against my son’s father, when they both agreed he was a risk. Now that he looks less and less like one each day, it’s becoming harder to ignore the thoughts and desires I believed I’d never have again about this man.
Still, I can’t ignore them. Because if I’m not the one protecting Kael and myself, who will be?
If Nero decides he’s tired of playing house and leaves, it will be up to me to stay strong for my son. And I know the pain that comes with losing him.
I endured it once. I don’t think I could do it again.
So no—I can’t ignore my fears. Because if they come true, the only barrier between my son and the abyss I once fell into will be me.
“Are you going to be a prince again, Daddy?” Kael asks as Nero sets him down, pulling my attention. “Are you going back to the castle you live in? In Greece?”
My son’s father frowns, just as confused as I am about where this sudden question came from.
“Why are you asking that?” he asks instead of answering—and my chest tightens. I realize that right now, I need a no just as much as Kael does.
“Because if you’re staying here, Daddy, then on your birthday you have to invite me to dinner too, and you have to pay the bill. I don’t have any coins left now,” he explains, his logic measured in cents.
We’re still laughing when Nero finally answers the first question.
“I’m not going anywhere you aren’t, my son,” he promises, kneeling to Kael’s height. The boy throws his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Never again.”
He says those last two words looking directly at me.
They shouldn’t mean anything, I tell myself—and fail completely.
Because they do.
They mean everything.
***
I walk toward Kael’s bedroom some time after his laughter has faded.
I needed a few moments alone after we got back from the restaurant, which means I chose to miss story time—the ritual that’s become nightly since the first time.
My mother and I have been completely replaced. Kael told us he loves us, but Daddy is much better at telling stories. I was mildly offended—but even I have to admit that yes, Nero is practically an actor, performing a private, different play for our son every single night.
The complete silence in the hallway makes me think Nero has already left. I breathe in relief—that’s exactly what I wanted, to avoid having to look at him again tonight.
But there’s a small, stubborn part of me that’s disappointed he left without saying goodbye.
I notice the light in Kael’s bedroom is still on as I approach the doorway.
I step inside—and freeze, paralyzed by the scene in front of me.
My son is asleep in his child-sized bed, tucked in. On one side, the wall. On the other, a painfully cramped Nero, wrapped around him, holding him close.
Kael snores softly, completely safe and comfortable in his father’s arms.
Nero didn’t leave.
He fell asleep with Kael.
I swallow the emotion, but I can’t stop a single silent tear from escaping. The confusion inside me stirs again.
For years, my own wants stopped mattering to me. It feels like some kind of torture that life has suddenly decided to rub them in my face—waving them in front of me in a cruel test.
I let out a long sigh and step closer to the bed.
I grabbed the folded blanket from the dresser and shook it open, draping it over Kael and Nero—there was no covering one without the other.
I step back and bite my lip, taking in the sight one more time, trying to capture it in a mental photograph no one but me will ever have.
I walk around the low headboard and lean over, kissing Kael’s hair.
Nero’s peaceful face draws me in like a magnet. I stare at him for almost a full minute.
My hand reaches out without my permission and strokes his cheek.
The touch ignites a dozen unsolicited but vivid memories—Nero and me on the beach, running and laughing. Nero and me on the sailboat, our first night. Nero and me in the bed we chose together, as he covered my belly with kisses while we tried to pick a name for our baby.
Another tear slips free.
Nero shifted in his sleep, pressing his face into my palm. His eyes remained closed, but he turned just enough to brush a ghost of a kiss against my skin before nestling back against Kael.
I pull my hand away carefully, afraid of waking him, and give myself two more seconds before leaving the room.
I take one last mental snapshot as I stop at the door—and then I promise myself that this is it.
Just this.
And nothing more.