Patrick blinks at the woman. He leans back into his seat, silent.

That doesn't make sense, he ponders. That doesn't make sense.

"You're kidding," he mumbles. He tries to laugh, but it only comes out as a puff of a sigh. "You've got to be kidding, right?"
"Are you serious, Patrick?" Nia glowers. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you this or even came here."
"It just doesn't make sense, Nia!" he blurts out.

Nia studies him. The minor silence between them is unsettling for the both of them.

"Stello is eight," Nia states. "The last time I saw you was eight years ago, Patrick. You remember what happened before I left for California, right?"

Patrick is silent, his head spinning as she relays the information to him.

"We went to the lake at the park. We were in your car," the woman explains vaguely. "I haven't been with anyone else since then, Patrick."
"What about Ricky?" Patrick tries. Nia scoffs sadly at the question. She shakes her head, her wavy locks linking with one another that will only make more snarls in her hair.

"What about him?" she asks almost rhetorically. Patrick doesn't know if he should answer, nor how to answer. He chews on his lip nervously, concentrating on his next choice of words.

"You two are married," he says, his voice low and soft as confusion rattles his conscience. "Does he know about Costello? Does he know about you being here? Does he even know about what we had?"

Panic rises in Patrick's chest, his questions only linking themselves together as they exit with his breath. Nia bows her head and fixates her eyes on the tile floor. Her brown hair covers her face. It reminds Patrick of the time the two were at the park, right after she had witnessed him and Tom fighting. Nia shakes her head, muttering a quiet "no" that Patrick can barely hear.

Patrick studies the woman before him, his brow furrowing in confusion. His hands fidget nervously, switching from wringing each other out to occasional picking at callouses. The table is quiet as he studies her. Nia heaves a sigh and cranes her head to look up at Patrick.

"You have to tell him everything," the blonde man says slowly. His throat closes around a lump, but he cant identify what emotion it is. For some reason he does not know, tears burn behind his eyes. Are they for him or for the man left with an empty house and unanswered questions?
"I'm scared to," Nia mumbles.
"He's a reasonable guy, I'm sure," Patrick tries to reason. "He may not understand, but... he'll respect your decisions, I'm sure."

The two lock eyes. Patrick instantly feels as if he had been ejected into the galaxies above his roof. The purple irises don't hold the same youth he remembers eight years ago. In fact, he notices fear, fatigue, and so much more in her now starless eyes.

"Will you go with me?" Nia asks, her voice sounding weak. Patrick realizes the toll this is taking on her. Without hesitation, he nods and grasps onto her hand.

"Of course," Patrick says as he gives her hand a small, gentle squeeze.

* * *

Patrick studies Nia as they sit in front of her now former home. He watches her try to calm her nerves to no avail. The woman grasps onto the handle of the door. She pauses, then looks back at her old friend and former lover. Patrick gives her a weak, but encouraging smile.

"You can do this," he says. "Get your stuff and I'll test the waters while you're busy."

Nia nods, pushes the door open, and continues her path towards the inevitable. Patrick follows in tow, his smile falling to a frown of concern and anxiety once Nia looks away. Nia raps her knuckles against the familiar door. She retracts her hand and bounces nervously on the balls of her feet. Minutes pass until the portal is opened, revealing Ricky on the other end.

Patrick goes to greet him with a smile, but somehow fights the subconscious habit. He takes in Ricky's form, hunched over with dark circles under puffy, irritated eyes. Patrick has to purse his lips into a straight, thin light to conceal the urge to frown at the troubled man.

"Hey, Ricky," Nia greets sheepishly. She avoids his pained, brown eyes. Something about the way Ricky studies Nia makes Patrick's stomach churn. He can no longer conceal the frown as he studies the broken man. He knows exactly what he's going through.

Nia enters the house; Patrick slowly follows, but stops beside Ricky as he sluggishly closes the door. He claps the gentleman on the shoulder, giving his arm a short rub.

"Hey, Ricky," Patrick sighs as he examines the man. "I'm really sorry about what's going on. How're you holding up, man?"
"I haven't slept," Ricky croaks as he runs a hand down his face, as if to wipe away the depression from his features. "I don't understand what happened. It was so sudden. Did she tell you anything?"

Patrick shifts a little on his feet, then directs Ricky to sit with him at their makeshift bar where they once shared margaritas. Patrick helps the distraught man sit on a bar stool, claiming on next to him.

"Nia and I... we haven't talked much since she moved," Patrick admits. "I'm just as confused as you are, honestly."
"I'm scared, man," Ricky confesses. For the first time, the two lock eyes. Patrick has no other option but to see the damage Nia has left. "She just up and left, took our son with her, and hardly answered anything. Everything escalated and just... crashed. Is there someone else? Did she ever love me? What did I do wrong?"

Ricky's breathing becomes ragged, becoming short gasps. Patrick feels him tense, only signifying that every bit of pain hasn't gotten out of his system. The blonde man rubs Ricky's back, hushing him gently in an attempt to soothe him from his pending anxiety attack. Patrick wants to tell him he knows exactly what he's going through. Almost days ago, he had the same questions when he met Nia's husband for the first time. He asked those questions at their failed lunch. He never got answers. Patrick knew that's just how Nia was. She was horrible at conveying her intentions and reasons when her own mind was a black hole. It took Patrick his whole life to understand her motives.

"I'm so sorry," Patrick whispers. Ricky only nods before he drops his head to hang, leaving him to study the floor beneath him. Patrick hears the broken man let out a shaky sigh as he puts a hand up to his eyes, failing to stop another wave of tears. He can't do much but look ahead, watching Nia travel from room to room with her and Costello's belongings. She's focused, mastering her art of hiding her feelings. Patrick almost hated that about her. He only hated it because he knew what she went through while growing up. She always chose to bottle it up and let it destroy her rather than letting it out.

Perhaps things haven't changed, Patrick thinks as he watches the woman enter a room, then exit with empty arms. She tugs a suitcase behind her with a couple of duffle bags hung on the extended handle. As she turns a light off, Nia catches Patrick's gaze. Patrick forces himself to focus his attention on Ricky again, who is recovering from his episode. It's his turn to lock eyes with the star-gazing girl. Nia chews on her bottom lip as she studies Ricky probably for the last time until the legal documents come in about divorce and custody.

"Nia, Starlet, can we please talk?" Ricky begs. Nia glances at Patrick, then back at the soon-to-be divorcee. She blows a hefty sigh, then nods as she approaches the two.

"Yeah," she answers quietly. Patrick hides his surprise. He stands and lets Nia claim his seat. Ricky sits up and faces the woman, trying to brace himself for the worst-- whatever the worst may be in his mind.

"Ricky, there's some things I haven't told you," Nia begins. Ricky nods, a crease forming in the center of his forehead. "God, where do I start? Some of the things don't really make sense together."
"Just tell me, Starlet," the man begs. A pang spreads through Patrick's chest as he watches the two. Guilt makes his stomach clench and grow sick, but he doesn't react. Nia blows out another anxious sigh.

"Buster-- er... Patrick and I have known each other all our lives. He was the first friend I made when I moved when I was about seven years old. When we were about eighteen years old... we actually dated," Nia confesses. She glances up at Patrick, an unfamiliar glint in her eyes. Patrick subtly rocks on his feet to rid of his nerves. Ricky looks at the two. There is silence between the three; Nia takes the chance to continue.

"But we broke up when I left for California. Then, I met you. You were nothing like Patrick, but I needed something to fill the void. I cut ties with my best friend in the whole world. You were the first and only good thing that has ever happened to me in the west coast."
"So," Ricky begins, "your heart really belongs with Patrick. Is that what you're saying?"

The room is quiet again. Patrick watches Nia for her answer; she hesitates, then nods. The blonde man's heart stutters at the sudden, but silent declaration.

"Yes. I think so," she stammers. Much to Patrick's surprise, Ricky only nods.
"That's not so bad, I guess," Ricky admits. "I only want you to be happy, Nia. I only want the best for you. I hope that's what he is to you."
"It gets worse," Nia states as she bites her lip. "I don't know how else to say this gently."
"What more can I lose?" Ricky rhetorically chuckles with a weak, faltering smile for his own sake.

"When we met," Nia huffs, her sigh being lengthy, slow, and shaky, "I was already pregnant."

Ricky's face contorts to a different, unfamiliar expression. Patrick can barely making out the (possibly) most obvious emotion: shock. He and Nia stiffen a little, bracing for anything unexpected.

"But I didn't know!" Nia blurts out quickly. Ricky seems to relax a little at that, the crease in his forehead deepening. "I didn't know until the day after we hung out that one night."
"You mean...?" Ricky trails off. It's Patrick's turn to glance between the two, confusion rattling in his head.

"What? What does that mean?" Patrick asks. Nia studies Ricky as she relays what had happened eight years ago.

"Ricky and I went to a bar one night and we got drunk. We made out on the way to his place and... I thought we might have had a drunken mistake considering we didn't know each other well, then."
"Wait, might?" Ricky chokes. His eyes widen a little, though his brows knit together at the new puzzle before him. "Nia, we had sex! We were just drunk a-and--"
"No, Ricky," Nia whimpers. "You were wasted out of your mind, I was just barely passed drunk, but I remember. We made out on your bed, fooled around, but nothing really... happened. We passed out. I thought that was what happened, but then I went to a doctor to check... and that's when I found out about Costello."

Patrick feels his stomach clench again as he hears this history between them. He feels almost nauseous knowing that Ricky had been lied to about Costello-- even more so finding out that Costello was also a secret to himself.

"So... who's the father?" Ricky asks. He glances up at Patrick. Patrick feels himself grow pale. He would have passed out, but he manages to cover his fear with a poker face.

"I can't tell you," Nia says. "The father wouldn't want that. I'd rather keep it--"
"Nia, I'm your husband--!"
"No, Ricky," the violet-eyed girl sighs. "Not anymore. I'm sorry."

Ricky deflates a little at the realization. Patrick sees the man practically die in front of him, the light behind his eyes suddenly vanishing. It makes his heart ache because it reminds him of when Nia had left him for something else that she loved. But who were they to stop her from following her heart?

Ricky purses his lips into a fine line and nods curtly before releasing a shaky sigh. Silence claims the room again. Nia and Patrick share a glance, Nia signifying she's ready to go. Patrick buries his hand in his pocket and wraps his fingers around his keys.

"I'll give you some time before I come back with paperwork, Ricky," Nia says gently as she stands. He says nothing as he studies the wooden floor. Patrick instantly assists Nia with her bags and guides her out the door. The two don't say anything as Patrick puts the luggage in the back of the car. He claims the driver's seat and ignites the car with the twist of his key.

Patrick glances over at Nia again. She stares out the window, the reflection of her glassy eyes giving away that this hurts her too, to some extent. He glances at the clock on his dashboard, finding it to only be 10:45 AM.Patrick drives, staring straight ahead with a plan in mind.

Five minutes pass. Then ten. Finally, after a moment longer, Nia perks up a little and looks up at Patrick, unfamiliar with this route home.

"Patrick, you passed your turn," the woman says.
"We're not going home," Patrick states. Before Nia can ask where they are going, Lake Shore Drive comes into her field of focus. The car parks, turning off once it claims its space.

"Why didn't you tell him sooner?" Patrick blurts out. Nia stays silent. She turns and watches the waves of the nearby lake outside the window.

"Better yet," he continues, "why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Tell you what?" Nia asks.
"That you still loved me," Patrick states. His intentions are stern, but his voice gives way to becoming soft and gentle. "That you were pregnant in California with our son. Jesus Christ, Nia, there's so much--"
"I don't know," she croaks. "Patrick, I was eighteen. At most, nineteen. I had no idea what I was doing or what was best--"
"You could have called me," Patrick states. "I would have done something to help you."

Nia bursts into a silent sob, only sniffles being heard as she wipes at infinite tears. Patrick heaves a sigh and rests his forehead on the steering wheel.

"I thought about you every day after you left," the blonde man confesses. "It's kinda pathetic looking back at it now, but I used to text your number to wish you happy birthday, ask how you were, tell you things that happened in life. I always hoped you'd answer."
"I changed my number once I got to California," Nia admits. "Stupid story, but my phone broke the moment I got off the plane and... not all my contacts made it."

The two chuckle sadly at the ironic scenario. Patrick cranes his head to study Nia. After eight years, he still felt his heart stutter in her presence.

"Is it true, though? Do you still love me?" Patrick asks. He braces himself for either answer. No, I said it to get him off my back or yes, I am madly in love with you. He would know where to stand with either option.

"I don't know," Nia says just above a whisper. She sniffs again, using the heel of her palm to wipe the last of her tears as she looks over at Patrick. He averts his gaze, refraining from making the confused expression his face wants to convey. Instead, he nods.

"It's been so long, Buster," she continues.
"No, I get it," Patrick reassures with a weak smile. "I understand, really."
"But I do know there is something in me that feels something about you," she says. Patrick returns his gaze to her violet irises, a faint spark of hope in his blue pair.

"I just don't know what it is yet," she mumbles.

Patrick nods and places his hand on top of Nia's giving it a gentle rub.

"I understand," he repeats. But he doesn't. All he can hope for is that she comes around with a definite answer, eventually.

Patrick turns the key in the ignition and revives the vehicle. He smiles weakly at the woman beside him one last time.

"Let's go home. You could use the rest," he says. To that, Nia nods and they continue onward.

A/N:
Long time no see, y'all This has over 2.5k words! Talk about a comeback amirite? I'll try my best to update as much as possible, as I am busy with school and work and life... but I won't be giving up on this book! Thank you to everyone who has read this, commented, and even shared it! Wouldn't be here without you!

Much love and thanks!
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