Seducing Mr. Grumpy

19. No one has to know. [Part 2]

Once we're inside the house, my parents and his arrive not long after. Thankfully, Heaven came with them and opened the door with her access card. I'm not so sure Nic would’ve welcomed them otherwise. Even as he walks to the kitchen and brings me some fruit to eat, he ignores everyone else, giving all his attention to me.

I glance at Heaven, silently begging for some kind of explanation for his behavior, but she just shakes her head and curls up next to her father, who’s sitting at the foot of my bed with his wife. My parents, on the other hand, sit on either side of me, speaking softly.

"Are you coming back home with us?" Dad asks.

Wait...

"What?"

"Home?" he repeats. "With that injury, will you keep attending your classes? By the time it heals, the course will be over. Wouldn’t it be better to come back?"

Oh.

Nic leans against the wall across from me, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with a somewhat dark look.

I frown, thinking about Dad’s question.

What he says makes sense, it really does… but going back home? I’m not even sure what I’ll do when the course ends, whether I’ll keep traveling or continue taking a break. Honestly, I’ve even been thinking about staying and opening my own pastry business, building my own brand doing something I also love.

Dad’s question throws me off balance, like he’s pushing me to make a decision I’m not ready to face.

What should I do?

I don’t even know what to do with my life—everything still feels as messy and uncertain as it did the day I arrived in the city.

My mom spears a piece of watermelon with a fork and brings it to my mouth. At the same time, the knuckles of her delicate fingers brush my cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"You don’t have to feel pressured, you know your father and I will support whatever you decide."

I look at Nic. I don’t know why, but I do. It’s strange how I find myself searching for an answer in his eyes, but he gives me nothing but silence.

I open my mouth, then close it.

Should I leave?

"Are you sure you won’t be able to keep studying with that injury?" Heaven speaks up. "It’s your left hand and you’re not left-handed. Are you really going to give up everything you’ve worked for over something so small?"

"A seven-stitch wound isn’t something small," my father interjects.

"I want to stay," I say, because I do want to. I want to stay. What I don’t know is what to do when my time here runs out… and it’s already running out.

Some nights I can sleep alone in bed. Sometimes I feel like I could conquer the world, full of hope to get my life back on track. But other days, I find myself on the floor again, scared of my own decisions and paranoid about recording content again. And even though my therapist says healing isn’t linear, but rather a roller coaster of highs and lows—where one day I’ll be fine and the next I won’t—it’s still hard.

Should I travel again or look for another path that makes me feel safer and just as happy?

I don’t know the answer, and once again I find myself wanting to look at Nic. To be honest, he influences so many of my decisions. For better or worse, he does. And I’d like to hear his opinion, but not here, not in front of so many people.

When did he become my confidant and the person I trust the most?

"All right," my mom says gently, "but don’t hesitate to reach out for anything."

"Anything, butterfly," my dad adds.

"We’ll be keeping an eye on her too," Mr. Pauls says, and his wife nods beside him.

It’s… nice, I realize. Feeling the warmth of the people around me, their concern, their desire to see me well. I’ve been alone for so long that I had forgotten how much this kind of support can make a difference.

I smile and glance at Nic, hoping to catch his reaction to the news that I’ll be staying—at least for now—but all I see is his back as he walks away without saying a single word.

|…|

Once everyone has left, promising to come back soon, the house falls silent. Dominic hasn’t returned to my room, but I haven’t heard him leave the house either, so I assume he’s in his office, working.

"What’s going on with Nic?" I ask Heaven as she comes in to take away the dirty dishes.

"Oh," she pauses, clearly debating whether to tell me or not.

"Did something happen outside the hospital?" I press.

"No," she shakes her head immediately.

"Then…?"

"My brother might be going through a few internal battles, but don’t worry, everything will be fine." But I can see the uncertainty in her voice, like she’s not entirely sure that’s true.

I frown, not quite understanding her words.

"Do you need anything else, Summer?"

"Are you going out?"

She gives me a shy smile as she admits, "I haven’t seen Anson all day."

"He didn’t come to the meeting?"

I was so caught up in the kitchen, trying to avoid my parents’ questions, and also trying to avoid Nic—and my growing feelings for him—that I didn’t even pay attention to the meeting guests.

Heaven shakes her head.

"He had work."

"Oh… it’s fine, don’t worry about me. I’m not dying or seriously ill. Go, I’ll be okay."

She nods, giving in.

"My brother’s on the terrace, in case you need him for anything."

That catches my attention.

Nic on the terrace?

I wait until Heaven leaves to go to the closet and grab two blankets. It’s freezing outside, and I bet Nic didn’t bring anything to keep warm. Sure enough, when I peek out onto the terrace, he’s there—sitting on the floor, legs folded, staring unflinchingly at the city that watched him grow into the successful man he is today.

Careful not to hurt my wound, I drape the blanket over his shoulders and settle beside him, our shoulders brushing—seeking warmth, and maybe a little emotional support too.

"Why do you look so sad?" I ask.

"Do I look sad?" He looks at me, surprised.

"And angry," I add thoughtfully, "and scared."

He shakes his head and turns his gaze back to the city.

What’s weighing you down so much, my grumpy sir?

"I guess I have a lot on my mind, that’s all."

I bend my legs, pull them close to my chest, and rest my cheek on one knee, facing him so I can look at him better.

"Tell me one truth, Nic."

He shakes his head.

Oh.

I lick my lips and try again.

"Tell me one good thing that happened to you today."

He shakes his head again, and I can’t tell what it means.

Is he not going to answer, or did nothing good happen to him today?

I search my mind for something to distract him from whatever is tormenting him, so I start speaking the first thing that comes to mind.

"I’ve been thinking about starting my own brand, you know?"

That gets his attention.

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know if I want to keep traveling," I admit, a little afraid—I never thought I’d say those words, not so soon. Saying them out loud, especially to him, feels like a big step for me. "So I thought, why not open my own pastry business? It’s something I enjoy, and it makes me happy."

"Here?" he asks, frowning in confusion. "In London?"

"Mmm," I nod.

"But… I thought you were leaving when the course ended?"

"It’s not certain," I say quickly. "I’m just exploring my options."

"Options?"

"Yeah, options."

He opens his mouth, then closes it again, shakes his head to himself, and turns his gaze back to the city.

That’s it?

He’s not going to say anything?

I thought he’d at least have an opinion about this.

"Aren’t you going to say anything?"

"What can I say?" he speaks without looking at me. "They’re your decisions, Summer. They’re none of my business."

And while his words are technically true, he’s my friend, right? Aren’t friends the ones we share our big decisions with? The ones who give us advice and help us make the right choice?

"You’re my friend," I begin.

"Mmm," he nods shortly.

"If I’m talking to you about this, it’s because your opinion matters to me. Do you really have nothing to say?"

"It’s hardly my place to comment on your life—like I said, it’s not my problem."

Problem?

Now my business is a problem?

I nod, gathering my thoughts on all of this.

"What’s wrong, Dominic?"

"Wrong?" A bitter little laugh escapes him. "Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Absolutely nothing."

Then he stands up, drops the blanket I brought for him to the floor, and leaves me there—alone, cold, and completely confused.

[2/3]