Chapter 18
18
Nico
Later that evening, under the blanket of stars dotting the night sky like silver pinholes in navy fabric, Michael leaned against his battered pickup truck outside the bar.
“Thought you'd be gone by now.”
“Figured you'd be happy to see me leave,” Michael replied without turning around, his gaze lingering on the mirror's void. The town had turned into a ghost of itself in his eyes, filled with whispers and judging stares — all because he couldn't let go of his bitterness.
“I don't want this for you. I wanted my brother back, not whatever war you're waging.”
A scoff escaped Michael's lips, yet it lacked heat. “You think it's that simple? That I can just drop everything and play happy families?”
“Isn't it simpler than tearing them apart?”
The question hung in the air, and the crickets paused our chorus as if to listen.
“Maybe for you. You found something here worth changing for.” His words were a begrudging admission, a nod to the love that had blossomed despite his attempts to ruin it.
“Lawson Ridge won't be the same without you, but neither will you if you stay with so much anger in your heart.”
“Maybe some things aren't meant to stay the same.”
“Where will you go?” My concern was a tangible thing, warm against the chill of the departing night.
“Anywhere but here,” Michael responded, the finality in his voice more resolute than the thrumming engine.
“Michael, don’t…” The plea was in my eyes, the unspoken fear of losing my brother to the shadows that seemed to cling to him.
“Take care of Josie,” Michael instructed, avoiding my gaze. It was as close to a blessing as he could muster — a silent acknowledgment of our bond.
“Always,” I assured, my hand resting briefly on the door before withdrawing.
As Michael shifted the truck into gear, the pickup lurched forward.
“Goodbye, Nico.”