Page 55 of Nico

*Just heard you are getting married in a week. Holy shit! Text me.*

I groaned at that. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who told her. I typed the reply back.

*It happened suddenly. I met Gabito’s wife today. WTF???*

I wouldn’t tell her that his wife had a thing with William. It would give her ammunition to remain with Gabito. Although, I had a feeling she would anyway. A reply came instantly.

*Long story. Those two can’t stand each other.*

It worried me where it left Angie though. Yes, my friend was a bit misguided but she had a good heart. I didn’t think Jenna had a good heart. I might be biased but she struck me as a manipulator.

*Make sure you don’t get hurt. You deserve much better. John still talks about you. Good night.*

Let her think about that. John would never cheat on her or drag her into a triangle.

Setting the phone back on the nightstand, I laid back against my pillows with a heavy sigh. My mind raced and went in a million different directions. I wondered what William would think of this whole thing. Nico was such the opposite of William, in every aspect, that I wondered how I could be attracted to him.

William and I had been an item since high school, we were everything to each other. He was gentle, thoughtful, funny, and so lighthearted. Until those last two years. Then it was as if I couldn’t recognize him. His illness must have impacted his behavior. There was no other explanation for it.

I stared into the darkness, images of William’s frail face on the hospital bed flashing in my mind. Tears pricked my eyes as I remembered him watching me, his concern only for me while he was on his deathbed. His body was so battered by all the chemicals and treatments, but he still worried about me. Those last few weeks was when I finally felt the old William was back. I couldn’t explain it, but that selfless man was who he used to be before everything went downhill.

“I miss you, William,” I whispered into the darkness, closing my eyes.

* * *

I tossedand turned all night. The images of William plagued my dreams along with the upcoming wedding to Nico turning into a blood stained disaster.

The daylight came too soon. I could feel the sun rays on my eyelids, coming through the window. Groaning, I turned away from the lights and pulled the covers over my head, burying my head into the pillow.

A soft chuckle reached my ears, and I smiled dreamily. William always found it amusing when I refused to get up in the morning. I’d tell him I was trying to make up for all the sleep loss during the first two years of the twins' life.

William is dead!

I shot up into a sitting position, my eyes darting across the room. A man in a pristine dark suit sat in my room.Nico?

“What are you doing here?” I blurted out with confusion, my voice raspy from sleep. All my thoughts disoriented; I tried to distinguish whether I was still dreaming. Or was Nico Morrelli in my bedroom a reality?

I rubbed my eyes, then blinked, trying hard to clear my thoughts. I kept staring at the figure sitting in my favorite chair by the window.

Crisp, dark suit. Dark hair. Stormy gray eyes.

Nico Morrelliisin my bedroom!

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I noted it was only six in the morning.

“What are you doing here?” I repeated, slight panic creeping up my spine. The girls were in the room next door. It would alarm them if they saw him in the house. We haven’t had an in-depth discussion with them about the wedding.

I pulled the covers higher, hiding as much of my body as I could.

He stood up, the epitome of calmness and grace, like it was completely normal he was in my bedroom on a Sunday morning. He fixed his cufflinks, which were perfect already as he spoke up.

Is he wearing a tuxedo?I pondered over his suit. It wasn’t a standard tuxedo but then nothing this man had was standard.

“We are moving up the wedding date,” he replied, his expression unreadable.

I frowned. I must have missed the point he was trying to make, because it was hardly a reason to show up at the crack of dawn and sit in my bedroom while I slept.

“Okay,” I muttered, pushing my hand through my hair. I couldn’t even imagine what a mess I looked like. “Another few weeks or months won’t really matter. You could have just called and told me that.”