Chapter 9 - Nico #2
“Good luck with... whatever this is.” She gestured toward Vera, and then both women left, the front door closing behind them. A dangerous silence followed. I leaned back against the sofa.
Waited. Three. Two. One.
I knew she was going to say something. She had to.
“Are you serious?”
There it was. I smiled. “About what?”
“Don’t act na?ve, Nico. You know exactly what I mean.”
The warning in her voice only made the smile wider. I was tired and angry, but apparently, I had chosen violence. “You’ll need to be more specific than that, my love.”
She stood abruptly. “Don’t you dare call me that. Not after… not after those women were just here.”
“What about them?”
“You brought them here or invited them here or whatever.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
I laughed. Actually laughed.
“Really, Vera? Since when do you ask such dumb questions?”
“Just answer me.”
“Because I wanted company.”
Her hands balled into little fists. “That’s pathetic.”
“Coming from you?”
The hit landed immediately, and pain flashed across her face. Good. We were finally speaking the same language.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re jealous.”
Her eyes widened. Then narrowed. “I’m not jealous.”
“Of course you are.”
“You brought strangers into this house.”
“I brought women.”
“You brought whores.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Interesting choice of words.”
“Don’t play games.”
“Why not?”
“Because this isn’t funny.”
“No,” I agreed quietly. “It isn’t.”
Something shifted, and the room became heavier. More dangerous. Vera took a step toward me.
“You are doing all of this to hurt me, right? You seriously think this hurts me?”
“I know it does.”
“This is your idea of revenge?”
“It seems effective.”
She turned around angrily, a vase falling off the table and shattering on the ground. Glass exploded everywhere, and I instinctively moved forward to pull her away, but she moved back herself. She turned to look at me again.
“You are an asshole. You are a selfish, arrogant, immature bastard.”
I listened to her calmly, not knowing how to react. It was mostly because I deserved this, but partially because she looked magnificent when angry. “Are you done?”
“No!”
She was breathing hard because of raising her voice at me. Her eyes were bright, and her hair slightly disheveled. She looked beautiful and dangerous at the same time. She looked mine. The thought appeared without permission, and I hated it.
“You know what your problem is?” she snapped.
I sighed. “Please enlighten me. This should be entertaining.”
“You think everyone suffers the way you do.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“You think pain gives you permission to become this awful person you have turned into.”
I laughed again. Wrong move. “Awful person? Seriously?”
“You are being cruel, Nico.”
The word landed harder than expected, and I looked away first. Only for a second, but unfortunately, she noticed.
“You weren’t like this before. The Nico I knew would have never done anything like this.”
“People change. The Nico you knew does not exist anymore.”
“You used to be kind.”
That one irritated me. “Kindness is overrated.”
“You didn’t believe that before.”
“Before what?”
Her expression faltered. Before us. Before you. Before everything. But neither of us said it. Didn’t need to. I stood, and the movement instantly changed the atmosphere. Now we were close. Too close.
“You don’t get to talk about who I used to be.”
“Why?”
“Because you killed him.”
Silence. Pure silence. I watched the words hit, sink, and hurt.
“Maybe I did.”
The answer stunned me. Not because she’d said it but because she sounded guilty. For a second, I almost asked why, but instead I doubled down.
“Let me remind you that you cheated on me. You ruined me and us and what we had. So you don’t get to question who I bring home.”
The room froze. There it was again. The original wound. The thing neither of us escaped. Her eyes closed briefly as if she was exhausted. As if she was carrying something impossibly heavy. Then she laughed. A terrible sound. Broken and disbelieving.
“You really believe that?”
I frowned.
“What?”
“You actually believe I cheated.”
“What the fuck else am I supposed to believe?”
The question exploded from me. Finally. Finally. Months of rage and humiliation, imagining her with someone else. All of it surfaced.
“You left me and told me you cheated and how you never loved me.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Because I had to.”
I froze. She froze. The entire world froze. Neither of us moved. I had never been more confused.
“What?”
The word barely emerged out of my mouth, and Vera laughed again. She wiped angrily at her face and then looked directly at me.
“I never cheated on you, you bastard.”
Silence. My heartbeat stopped.
“I never cheated.”
I stared. I couldn’t think or breathe or move. She continued anyway because apparently God hated me.
“It was a lie.”
“No. You are just saying that.”
“I didn’t want Adrian.”
No.
“I never wanted him.”
No.
“I never even touched him.”
No.
“I never cheated on you.”
Every sentence landed like a bullet. I couldn’t process them fast enough. Couldn’t catch up. Couldn’t understand.
“You’re lying.”
Vera laughed through tears. “Why would I lie now?”
I had no answer. Because there wasn’t one. She looked devastated and heartbroken. And horrifyingly honest.
“Oh my God.”
The whisper escaped before I could stop it. Everything suddenly looked different. The breakup. The engagement. The wedding. Her expression filled with relief when she saw me. Her lack of resistance in leaving the wedding. I stumbled backward.
“You ruined everything.” The words came out quietly.
I wasn’t angry or hateful, just tired.
“Vera, tell me. Why would you even do something like this? Why?”
“I have nothing to say, Nico. I can’t explain this to you.”
“What the fuck, Vera? No! You cannot tell me something so big and act as if this was a joke. That is not how things work.”
She backed away, running upstairs towards her room. I followed behind, but she was quicker. The door slammed shut seconds later. Then locked. And suddenly I was alone. For months, I had survived by hating her, and now that hatred had just been ripped away, leaving something far worse behind.
The truth.
And the horrifying realization that I might have destroyed both of us for absolutely nothing.