8. Nicholas

CHAPTER 8

Nicholas

An hour later, I pushed open the door to Sugar it was an invitation, open and steady, like he’d wait as long as it took.

“She said it was important to have a spot like this. Somewhere you could see everything clearly. We’d sit up here and talk about our dreams—what we wanted to be, where we’d go. She always said it didn’t matter how far we went, as long as we had each other.” My voice wavered and I swallowed hard, blinking against the burn behind my eyes.

Markus leaned a little closer, his voice soft. “She sounds like she was amazing.”

I nodded, my throat tight. “She was. My dad left when I was nine; Aiden was just a toddler. Said he couldn’t be tied down to a small town.” The words tasted bitter, even after all these years. “It was just us after that. She worked herself into the ground to make sure we had everything we needed. And somehow, she still made time to be here for us. For me.”

The air felt heavier, the weight of the memory pressing against my chest. Markus didn’t say anything, but his hand brushed against mine where it rested on the railing. The contact was brief, almost accidental, but it sent a jolt through me that I couldn’t ignore. I pulled back, shoving my hands into my pockets, but my heart was racing now for a whole different reason.

“You miss her a lot,” he said after a moment, his voice low and steady. It wasn’t a question.

I nodded again, unable to trust my voice.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been,” Markus added, and there was something in his tone—something genuine—that made me glance at him.

Our eyes met, and for a second, the space between us felt smaller. My chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t just grief. It was something else, something I didn’t have the bandwidth to unpack. Not now.

“She worked so hard for us,” I continued, staring at the town below, my eyes following the glint of holiday lights. “She was a nurse at the hospital—long hours, double shifts, always going the extra mile for her patients. And for us. Everything she did was to make sure we were okay.”

I hesitated, the memory sharp enough to hurt. Unshed tears burned the back of my eyes. “Her car... It was old. She kept meaning to get the brakes checked, but there was never enough time or money. She always said she’d do it soon.” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat, trying to push through. “I told her I’d take care of it, but she brushed me off. Said it was fine.”

Markus stayed quiet, his presence grounding me, giving me space to speak.

“The night it happened, it was raining. She was on her way home after a long shift, probably exhausted. The brakes gave out coming down that hill near the edge of town. Her car went off the road and into a ravine.” I blinked hard, my vision blurring.

The wind picked up, cold against my face, and I swiped at my eyes, but the tears kept coming. “I was about to start college—finally taking a step toward my dream, to be a nurse like her.” I took in a deep breath and then released it slowly. “Sharon’s the one who called me,” I said, the words tumbling out. “When the accident happened. I’d just gotten to my dorm, ready to start college, and she called to tell me my mom was in the hospital.” I grabbed another breath before releasing it with a whoosh. “By the time I got back, she was already gone.” My voice broke, and I turned away, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. “She was everything, Markus. Everything. And I wasn’t there.”

Markus moved closer, his hand resting on the back of my neck, his touch firm but gentle, like he knew exactly how much I needed that anchor.

“She worked herself into the ground for us,” I choked out, my shoulders shaking. “And all I could think was if I’d tried harder, insisted that she get the car fixed, hell, take it to Bill myself to have him check it out... maybe she’d still be here.”

Markus pulled me into his arms. His hand smoothed over my back, steady and sure, and for the first time in years, I let myself fall apart. I clung to him, the weight of everything I’d been holding in crashing over me.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Markus murmured, his voice low and certain, like he wasn’t just saying it but willing me to believe it. “You did everything you could, Nicholas. Everything. And she knew that.”

I buried my face against his shoulder, the scent of cedar and his warmth grounding me. His arms tightened around me, solid and unyielding, and I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time—safety.

“She’d be proud of you,” Markus said, his voice low and steady. “For stepping up for Aiden, for honoring her by being the kind of person she raised you to be.”

I nodded against him, the words sticking in my throat. His hand slid up to cup the back of my head, his thumb brushing through my hair. The way he held me—like I was fragile and fierce all at once—made the ache in my chest shift, just enough to breathe again.

“Meeting Sharon earlier,” I started, my voice rough, “plus not having Aiden here—it’s been... a lot.”

Markus tilted my chin slightly, studying me with an intensity that made my skin tingle. “You’re allowed to feel that. You’re allowed to lean on someone. Even just a little, okay?”

The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver through me, but there wasn’t a trace of pity, just quiet understanding. Acceptance. It caught me off guard, leaving me feeling more exposed than I wanted but oddly comforted at the same time.

“Thank you,” I managed, my voice rough.

Markus wiped a stray tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You don’t have to thank me. It takes a lot to let someone see you like this—I’m just glad you did.”