Summary: They were never nothing—but John Logan made sure they were never something either. Until the night he sees her with someone else... and realises too late what he let slip away.
Warnings: none :)
For a while, neither of you speaks.
The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, settling into every space left behind by the things you've finally said out loud.
The sky above the parking lot has begun to darken, the last traces of sunlight fading behind the campus buildings. A cool breeze moves through the trees nearby, but neither of you seems to notice.
You're too caught up in this.
In him.
In the years sitting between you.
Logan hasn't moved.
Not even an inch.
Like he's afraid that if he takes a step forward, you'll take two steps back.
Like he's afraid that he's already pushed his luck as far as it can go.
You wipe at your face one more time, frustrated by the tears that refuse to completely disappear.
The worst part is that you're exhausted. Not physically. Emotionally. You feel wrung out.
Like every feeling you've spent years burying has suddenly been dragged into the light all at once.
And somehow there's still more left to say.
Because one question keeps circling around in your head.
One question that refuses to leave.
If he felt all of this...
If he noticed you. If he cared. If he wanted you. Then why?
Why did he keep walking away? Why did he keep choosing anything but you?
Your voice is quieter when you finally speak. Almost hesitant. "Then why didn't you?" Logan looks up.
The question clearly catches him off guard. You swallow. "Why didn't you choose me?" The words hang there.
Simple.
Direct.
Devastating.
For a second, something flashes across his face. Not guilt. Not embarrassment.
Something worse. Shame. Real shame.
The kind that settles deep. The kind that doesn't disappear.
And suddenly you know. Before he even speaks. You know the answer is going to hurt.
Logan looks away first. His jaw tightens. His hands disappear into the pockets of his jacket.
For the first time since you've known him, he looks completely stripped down.
Not physically. Emotionally.
Like there's nowhere left to hide.
When he finally speaks, his voice is rough. "I didn't think I deserved you."
The answer hits so unexpectedly that you almost don't process it.
You stare at him.
Waiting.
Because surely that's not it.
Surely after all these years, the explanation has to be bigger than that.
More complicated. More dramatic. But Logan just shakes his head.
A humourless laugh leaves him. "You look like that's the stupidest thing you've ever heard."
"Because it is."
The response comes immediately.
Logan actually nods. "Yeah."
The agreement catches you off guard.
He lets out a long breath. "I know how it sounds."
"No, Logan," you say, frustration building again. "Do you?"
His eyes meet yours. And for the first time all evening, he doesn't look away.
"I grew up watching my dad destroy every good thing he ever touched."
The words stop you cold. Immediately.
Because suddenly this conversation isn't about you anymore.
Not entirely.
The easy answers disappear. The anger softens around the edges. Just enough.
Logan stares somewhere over your shoulder. Like he's not really seeing the parking lot anymore. Like he's seeing something else. Something years away. "When I was a kid, I used to think people who loved each other stayed."
His laugh is quiet. Broken. "Turns out that's not how it works."
Your chest tightens. You know pieces of Logan's family situation. Everyone does. But hearing him talk about it is different. Because Logan doesn't talk about things that hurt.
He jokes.
He deflects.
He changes the subject.
He smiles.
Anything except this. "I watched my mom get disappointed over and over again." His voice lowers. "I watched her believe things were going to get better." Another pause. "They never did."
The ache in your chest grows.
Logan looks down at the pavement. "You know what the messed up part is?" You don't answer. He isn't really asking.
"I spent years thinking I wasn't anything like him." A bitter smile appears. Then disappears. "And then I started caring about you."
Your heart stumbles.
The look he gives you is almost painful. "I cared so much it scared the hell out of me." The confession lands somewhere deep. Somewhere dangerous. "You were the first thing that ever felt real enough to lose."
The parking lot suddenly feels too quiet.
Too small.
Too intimate.
Logan shakes his head.
Like he's frustrated with himself. "I kept thinking if I got close enough, eventually I'd screw it up." His voice grows tighter. "Eventually you'd realize I wasn't worth all the trouble."
Your eyes sting again.
Because now you understand.
Not agree.
Never agree.
But understand. "And every time things started becoming real..." His laugh is hollow. "I ran first."
The words settle heavily between you.
Not because they're surprising.
Because they're not.
You've known that for years.
But hearing him admit it changes something. Hearing him take responsibility changes something. "I told myself I was protecting myself." His eyes meet yours. "I told myself I was protecting you."
A long pause.
Then— "I was just scared."
The honesty in it steals the air from your lungs.
No excuses.
No blaming circumstances.
No blaming timing.
Just the truth.
Ugly and imperfect.
Logan takes a shaky breath. "You want to know the worst part?" Your throat feels tight. "What?"
A sad smile pulls at his mouth. "The entire time I thought I was protecting myself from getting hurt..." His eyes soften. "...I was hurting you instead."
The tears you've barely gotten under control return immediately. Because that's it. That's the thing you've wanted him to understand. Not that he was scared.
Not that he was confused.
Not even that he loved you.
That his choices had consequences.
That every time he walked away, he didn't walk away alone.
You were left behind every single time.
Logan sees the tears gathering again.
This time, he looks devastated.
Not because you're crying.
Because he knows he's the reason. "I'm sorry." The words come out broken. You can tell he means them.
Really means them.
Not because he wants something.
Not because he's trying to fix things.
Because he's finally allowing himself to see the damage. "I know sorry isn't enough." His voice shakes. "I know I don't get to erase any of it."
Your chest aches. "So stop acting like you have to." Logan blinks. "What?"
You take a slow breath. "Every time we talk about this, you act like you're trying to find the perfect thing to say." His brows pull together. "I am."
"I know."
Your voice softens. "And there isn't one."
The truth of it settles over both of you.
Because there isn't.
There is no speech.
No confession.
No apology big enough to give either of you those years back.
The realization hurts.
But it also feels strangely freeing.
For the first time, Logan isn't trying to convince you.
And for the first time, you're not asking him to.
You're both just standing in the truth.
Messy and painful and unfinished.
And somehow...
That feels more honest than anything that's happened between you before.
When Logan finally looks at you again, his eyes are red around the edges.
Not crying.
Close.
And your heart breaks a little.
Because for the first time in years, he isn't hiding.
He's just standing there.
Letting you see every ugly part of him.
Trusting you with it.
The same way you've trusted him with yours.
Neither of you notices the distance disappearing.
Not until you're standing closer than before.
Close enough to see the faint scar near his jaw.
Close enough to see the uncertainty in his eyes.
Close enough that neither of you can pretend this doesn't matter.
And for the first time in years...
The silence between you doesn't feel like something keeping you apart.
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So I know I said it before, but fun fact: everyone you love will die. Your father, your mother... and even your best friend. I like to think it's not so much how many years you get, but what you do with them. And JJ packed it in. A whole life in those 20 years. Adventure. Romance. Some tough things - that was part of it too. Sacrifice. And friendship. If JJ was the king of anything, he was the king of friendship. He held us all together. He was the best friend we ever had.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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summary: while trying to keep your head above water, Nicholas does the unforgivable.
pairing: fem!reader x nicholas ruffilo
THIS IS PURE FICTION!! Do NOT proceed if these themes are not of your taste.
warnings: ANGST, descriptions of postpartum depression, Mean!Nicholas, negative self talk/image, insecurities, infidelity, mentions of trouble trying to conceive, alcohol consumption
word count: 4.1k
A/N: i told you guys angst is my specialty 🥴 please be sure to comment and reblog 🩷
divider by : @djarrex
~Berry 🫐
———
Nico was a gift to your lives. He was such a beautiful baby boy that you and Nicholas were beyond blessed to bring into this world.
With being together for 6 years, being married for 4 and trying for a baby for 2 of them, despite the difficulties, your baby boy is now here.
But while you can recognize how much you love your son, you just can’t seem to display it. When he cries, you panic and just watch him cry until Nicholas intervenes. There’s times where you can’t even hold him, not being able to accept the skin to skin contact.
In your mind, you were failing to be a good mother to him and it doesn’t help that Nicholas’ mind just seemed to be elsewhere. He doesn’t make eye contact, he doesn’t kiss you, he doesn’t hold you at night and he’s passive aggressive when it comes to your detachment regarding Nico.
At first he seemed to understand, until it was him waking up every time in the middle of the night to put him to sleep because you just stared at Nico in his crib, frozen, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to soothe him.
He was understanding at first until he had to buy formula because you wouldn’t pump, and when you did, it wasn’t enough to properly feed him. Your lack of good production stemming from the stress and not being able to take care of yourself, not eating, not hydrating, nothing.
“He needs his mom, Y/N,” Nicholas grabbed Nico from his crib, the upset infant instantly pacified and the blood curdling cries are finally quiet.
“I can’t bond with him, he doesn’t even know me as is mom!,”
“Because you’re not trying!,”
“I am,” you pull at your roots, speaking through gritted teeth, “I’m fighting for my fucking life here and you’re guilting me about it,”
Nicholas just sighed, he knows this isn’t easy. He had helped you get a therapist and he thought it’d at least help even a little bit. It’s been like this for a month.
“I’m not guilting you! But at the same time we have a son to raise, I know you’re trying, honey, but something has got to give. What are you going to do when we have to go on tour again?,”
“You said that wouldn’t be for a while!!,” you shriek, face wet as you panic, “Nicky, please, I’m not ready,”
You could see his jaw clench and you hate to see him so upset with you, so frustrated. Your mind and body were still healing and despite delivering Nico a month ago, your body just doesn’t feel like yours anymore, you’re confused and the idea that someone now needs you 24/7 was terrifying.
Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe there’s a reason it was so hard to conceive in the first place.
But alas, regardless of Nicholas’ frustration, he still helped get you to therapy, he helped you do some stretches to help get you grounded back into your body.
However, after a while the distance still grew. Once you were at a point where you could be alone with Nico, Nicholas was barely there.
He’d tell you he was leaving and wouldn’t come back until late.
It’s almost like he was punishing you.
Each night he’d come home, hop in the shower and climb in bed, turning his back to you.
Your marriage didn’t feel like a marriage anymore and you’re still waiting to feel that sense of family that so many people talked about.
There’s a night where Nicholas doesn’t come home at all. You’re messaging him, blowing up his phone with calls and voicemails, even going as far as calling the guys but even they’re not answering.
You were up all night crying along with Nico and the only reason he fell asleep is because he cried himself out. You sat in the same spot on the loveseat from sunset to sunrise, you haven’t slept a wink and when you hear his keys jingling, you become more aware of how you look.
Hair all over the place, Nico’s spit up all over your hoodie, dried tear streaks on your face and it just feeds the insecurities that you’ll never “snap back” like all the other moms on social media do.
“Where have you been?,” voice cracking
He doesn’t answer, he just walks past you as if you don’t exist.
“I asked you a question,”
“God, Y/N! Not right now,”
Your breath hitches as you take in his appearance, looking all partied out and hungover, hair up in a messy bun and his clothes all wrinkled.
“I stayed up all night waiting for you! I didn’t know where you were, you didn’t even answer, none of you did!,”
“I told them to turn their phones off,” he replied as if it was the simplest answer. As if he were answering ‘4… duh’ when asked what 2+2 equals.
The sound that escaped you sounded as if someone had their hands around your throat and you were fighting for your life.
“I needed you,”
“And I needed a break!,” the way he raised his voice had you rearing back against the couch cushion. He’s never raised his voice, “I have been taking care of Nico since the day he came home. I’ve been taking care of YOU, I’ve been bathing him, I’ve been bathing you, I’ve been feeding him and feeding you. I have a child and a wife, I’m not a single dad of two children!,”
All you can do is hold Nico close to your chest as Nicholas’ words soaked into your skin, making it hard for the air to reach your lungs, his words a colorless poison like carbon monoxide.
“Nicky…,” you whimper, “Don’t… don’t say that, I’m trying,”
“And I’m tired!!,” he’s still shouting and if he doesn’t stop, he’ll wake Nico and you can’t handle that right now, “I stayed out with the guys, we had a couple drinks and I crashed at Jolly’s and it was the first full nights rest I’ve gotten in a long time so no, I’m not going to apologize!,”
You just stared at him, scared of the fury that had taken over his once comforting eyes.
“I…,” you hiccup, “I’m… I’m sorry, I’ll be better,”
It finally clicks in Nicholas’ mind how he just reacted and his expression softened.
“Wait, honey. I don’t know why I just-,”
“It’s okay,” you smile through the tears, “I’m going to lay him down and take a shower,”
“I can help you,”
You slowly sit up to lay Nico down in his bassinet and you wrap your arms around yourself as a way to self soothe and make yourself seem smaller under his inquisitive gaze.
“N-no. I’ll be okay,” you try to walk past him but he reaches for your arm gently, slowly spinning you around but you avoid his eyes.
“I love you,” sighing in exhaustion, he says the three words you’ve been needing to hear for the longest. This hasn’t been easy for you either.
But there’s a twinge in his tone, almost as if he’s convincing himself.
You want to believe him, you want to relish the words that should have been coming out of his mouth unconditionally this entire time.
But there’s something deep within his eyes that reads he’s just saying it to placate you.
Not to mention, there’s a sweet smell coming off his clothes.
That of gourmand and ambroxan, like of a subdued jasmine soaked in a lactonic caramel.
It’s unfamiliar and it sure as hell doesn’t belong to you.
Despite getting better and working on your bond with Nico, Nicholas seemed to pull away more and more.
So for tonight, you cooked dinner and wore your favorite colored dress, a dress that he always complimented you in, it was his favorite of yours.
You wore a little make up to brighten up your eyes and make your skin seem hydrated and plump instead of dull and dry.
You had fed Nico and put him down for bed, just wanting some time alone with your husband. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard him enter your shared home, bouncing on the balls of your feet while you stood beside the candle lit dinner on the table.
Except when he entered the dining room, he seemed so unamused. His eyes scanned down your body and to the table with little to no emotion.
“What’s this?,” he questions, setting his jacket on the back of the table.
“Well I figured we hadn’t had a date night in ages, we could use some alone time”
“Y/N…,” he pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was annoyed with the whole set up, “I don’t really have the energy for this right now,”
“It’s just…,” your eyes blink in confusion at his words, trying to hide the sadness. He didn’t even say how pretty you looked, “It’s just dinner, Nicky. C’mon just sit,”
Reluctantly, he did so. It was his favorite dish and yet he looked at it as if it was the most unappetizing slop on his plate.
He doesn’t know that his little expressions and lack of energy are killing your spirit but you’re set on trying.
“It’s your favorite,” you take a small bite, watching as he just sits there with his arms on either side of his plate, fiddling with his thumbs. He’s just sitting as if he’s trying to process something.
“I even baked a cake today! It was a new recipe I got it from this Facebook group I’m in. I was thinking after dinner we could take a bubble bath together like we used to and share a piece! Just like old ti-,”
“I slept with someone else,” he blurts out.
Your lips twitch and your ears start ringing.
“Heh… what?,” your motions come to a halt and the smile is no longer on your face. The candle flames seemed to stop flickering and the world outside seemed to still as you zeroed in on him, “What did you say?,”
He leans forward on the table, moving the plate to the side to rest his head in his hands.
“I slept with-,”
“No, you raise your head and look at me,” you demanded. This has to be some sort of sick joke. Sometimes the guys can take their jokes a little too far. This has to be one of them, right?
He sighed heavily, hands dropping to the table with a light knock as his inked knuckles bump against the mahogany.
Those beautiful eyes that you found a home in, stare back at you and you feel so lost now. Like you’re in a place that seemed familiar but you’re experiencing amnesia.
You know this place but it’s distorted.
“I slept with someone else,” he said clearer.
Your breathing seemed to pick up, thumb cramping from how hard you’re gripping your fork.
“It was a mistake. Y/N please believe me. I-,”
“I was at home… taking care of our baby, battling the PPD, overexerting myself to get back into shape so that you would still want me and your first thought is to sleep with someone else?,”
Your voice was eerily calm, robotic almost. Your fork clanks against the plate when you lose your grip. Everything is starting to feel numb.
“Honey-,”
“You don’t get the call me that anymore,” throat clenching around the words, trying to keep your composure.
“I was drunk,” he tried to justify.
“Did,” clearing your throat, “Did you at least use p-protection?,”
“I don’t think we should get into the details,”
A painful wail echoed throughout the house. You knew his answer. Your hand flies to your mouth to keep your cries in so you don’t wake Nico.
The distance. The perfume. His anger and frustration. It all made sense.
“I would have given you what you wanted,” you tremble at your own words, “I don’t care that I was healing. I would have fucking given you what you needed,”
“No,” He whimpered, “Honey, I don’t know what happened. I drank and you know I don’t drink and it just-,”
Another woman… experiencing your husband in that way, when you needed him was Earth shattering. You hadn’t received a hug from him in weeks, no kiss from him in almost two months now, he doesn’t hold you and the sex stopped about two months before Nico was born.
“Was it the… did the stretch marks turn you off? I started using the cocoa butter, I just needed time,”
You felt so raw, like an exposed nerve and the pain won’t stop. You’re just trying to make sense of it all.
“Don’t do this, Y/N,” he had some nerve to cry right now. This was his doing. He went out and cheated.
“It’s a m-myth that we stay stretched out after birth, it would have felt the same,” you pleaded, “I just needed to heal. I-,”
“No I.. It’s not that. I know that’s a myth! I just, I had too much to drink,”
“I refuse to believe that,” you lament, “It had to be something about me that pushed you to her. I-I got better with keeping up on showering, I’m sorry you had to see me like that I was just so sad all the time I was stuck-,”
“Y/N !,” his fists bang on the table and you flinch, breath trembling.
“I don’t know why I did it and I’m sorry I did it. I’m so sorry, baby. I was… I was stressed out and I blacked out. I know that’s not acceptable but-,”
“You turned your back on your family,” you clenched your chest, it was feeling like your heart was actually breaking, “You do not turn your back on your family!,”
“I love you and Nico,”
“I take you, Y/N Y/L/N, as my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward,” you repeat his vows back to him and you can see him start to get sick to his stomach. How can you love someone and hurt them like this?
“I promise to cherish and love you, to be faithful and to support you through sickness and in health. For rich or for poor until death do us part,” you jab your finger in his direction, images flashing before your eyes from what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, a day that now meant nothing.
“You said those words!! You lied to me that day, you broke your vows!”
“I didn’t lie. I love you. Y/N, please it was a mistake,”
“This is the last time you lie to me,” this was a man who you’d always follow to the ends of the Earth. The man who made life worth living but has now taken that will away.
“I’m not lying,” he’s groveling, “I drank to ease the pressure but I didn’t know when to stop a-and she was all over me, I thought she was you. I wasn’t in my right mind. I was drunk!,”
“As if being drunk makes it better?,” you whisper, you hate that you’re looking at him and his cheeks are wet. The fucking gall to act like the victim here.
“You gave me Nico! We tried for years. You watched me blame myself for not being able to conceive. You watched as I panicked when we found out we were having him and you watched me struggle to stay alive… watched me struggle to be a mother, you watched me fall apart and instead of keeping your word you run off to get your fucking dick wet?!,”
You stand up from the table, chair screeching against the floor and walk away into the kitchen where he unfortunately follows.
“I love you and I love Nico and I don’t want to lose that,”
“It’s a little too late for that!,”
“Please don’t say that,” he took a step forward but you took two back to get away from him.
“A man… who left me, while I was still recovering, to go party with his friends and sleep with another woman isn’t a man who loves me. You left me to take care of our baby boy knowing I was scared to be alone with him because I don’t know what the FUCK I’M DOING!! But nooo, you couldn’t wait long enough for me to heal. That’s selfishness, that’s not love!,”
You push him but he just stands there and takes it so you do it again and again until you’re pounding on his chest, sobbing at how things fell apart so fast.
“Y/N stop! Stop… Baby, stop!!!,” he grabs your wrists and holds you in place, eyes burning into yours. You don’t know who he is anymore.
“I wish you never told me!,” you gasp for air, “I have a son to take care of, you should have kept it to yourself, you should have continued to lie!,” you push him so hard he actually stumbles back into the wall.
“I couldn’t… it was eating at me, I-,”
“And I hope does for the rest of your life because we are done! You didn’t just hurt me. You hurt an innocent baby boy who doesn’t know any better and I’ll be damned if my son is raised by a ‘man’ who has no respect for his spouse!!!,”
He ran a hand through his hair, panicking about what he has done and how his family is falling apart before it even started. He did this.
There’s no one to blame.
He can’t blame you. You were healing all while falling apart. He knows how common PPD is and yet he centered himself in your own mental health struggles and now he’s here.
It’s his fault.
“How do I make this right, Y/N please? I want to make this work. I love you,”
“Do you have a time machine?,” the rhetorical question made this situation all more real. This was his reality now and he’s ruined something so good, and for what? The man who stood at the altar and declared his love for you in front of the most important people in your lives was not who he sees in the mirror anymore and he’s definitely not who you’re seeing now.
You grip the granite counter, head hanging low. You try to calm down, try to catch your breath but you just can’t.
Picking your head up, your eyes find his once more and your face is stoic, void of any emotions that are overwhelming your nervous system right now.
The hurt of his deception was taking over your body like a virus and there was no treatment to fix it, it has infected you and will slowly deteriorate you over time.
“So what are you going to say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me?,”
Seems dramatic. But it feels like you’re dying. This is a betrayal you never expected. You thought you’d be the exception in life. That you’d get the guy and white picket fence. But you ended up just being another broken hearted woman.
“I love you… so much. Please can we work this out?,”
His begging set something off inside of you and you lost it.
“You don’t cheat on someone you love!,” you threw a vase of flowers, “You don’t cheat on your fucking wife!,” fists pounding in your counter.
“You don’t go out drinking when your wife is left crying at home, beside herself with anxiety that she’ll hurt herself or her son!,” this time it’s a glass plate that you threw like a frisbee in which he dodged just in time.
“I needed you!,” you scream at the top of your lungs, “I needed you! Nico needed you, he needed us!!,”
“Y/N Stop!,” Nicholas shouted over the shattering glass and sobs.
“He needed us but instead you had some random bitch pinned against the wall in some sleazy club bathroom!,” the image makes you sick to envision.
After you throw the last item within your reach, you fall to your knees, clutching your chest as you let out the scream of a banshee.
It hurts to inhale and it feels like you’re having a heart attack.
“Y/N!,” Nicholas rushes over to you and you begin to hear Nico crying in the back.
“Baby, please. Come on!,” his voice becomes muffled like you’re underwater and you can’t make anything out.
He’s blurry and it feels like you’re stuck in a current, trying to keep your head above water, gasping for air but the waves keep dragging you under.
“Y/N!,” he’s shaking you to snap you out of it, to get you back down to Earth but you’re still fighting him off. Still throwing weak punches.
“Come on, baby. Come back to me,”
Your eyes are shut tight as you try to find your breath but it’s not working.
“I’m right here! Just open your eyes! I’m right here!,”
You can’t look at him right now. The fact that he’s even this close to you makes it worse.
“Y/N! Please you’re scaring me!!”
With one last stern shake, you open your eyes, a large gasp echoing in your ears and you’re covered in cold sweats, grasping at what you can reach which are the hot sheets on your bed.
“Hey, shhh. Shhh. I’m right here. It’s okay. You’re safe,” he’s brushing the hair out of your face, your bonnet was nowhere to be found.
“It was just another nightmare,” he whispers.
Your head turns to him and you take in your surroundings.
The white numbers on the digital clock read 2:17 am. Nicholas is in a plain white shirt and his briefs and the moon is shining through the sheer curtains of your room.
You look back to him and your face frowns as your eyes start to burn with the salty drops.
“Was it the same one?,” he asks, all you can do is shake your head.
“Y-you cheated,” you choked, “In this one you l-left me alone with Nico and cheated,”
You see the way the words tugged at his heart, bothering him greatly. He’s trying to hide the hurt on his face but he knows it’s not your fault that your mind is displaying these disconcerting scenes in your head.
“I’d never do that to you,” he caresses your cheek, “Baby, believe me. I would never fucking do that to you. I love you and Nico too much to do that,”
You throw yourself in his arms and just let it all out. This one felt so much more real than the other ones you’ve had before.
Nicholas held you for a bit before he started to ease away but you had a tight grip on his shirt, not wanting him to leave.
“I’ll be right back,” he reassured with a kiss to your forehead, “Nico is up. I’m gonna go get him,” he sat you up against the headboard as you tried to alleviate the uneasiness that soaked your body.
The three week old baby is heard whining when Nicholas brings him in the room.
“You wanna hold him? I think he’s hungry. If not I can get a bottle,”
“I wanna hold him. I need to hold him,”
Nicholas was so gentle when placing him in your arms, even helped you unbutton your night gown so Nico could start to feed. When the baby latched, he was subdued and curled into you, feeling safe in your embrace.
“Your doctor said the nightmares are normal,” Nicholas assured, rubbing his hands on your thighs to ease some of the tension you’re storing in your body.
“I just want them to stop,” You were exhausted. Almost every night since having Nico, you’d woken up in cold sweats and tears. Tonight was so much worse, you were sobbing and thrashing in your sleep, throwing punches at Nicholas as he tried to wake you, unbeknownst to you of course.
“I know it’s a lot but please don’t leave me. Don’t leave us, please,” you flex your jaw, trying to keep your cries to a minimum
“In sickness and in health, Y/N. I meant those words. I will never hurt you or our family, I’d rather die,”
The way he stared in your eyes, this is the man you married. The man in your dreams was just some monster your mind made up, a sick play on your fears.
The mind has a macabre way of playing into your insecurities, attacking itself, like a snake eating its own tail.
But Nicholas was there every step of the way, every nightmare, every therapy appointment, every good day and bad day until you felt like yourself again.
