The first time Lauren saw Nico again was at the family cottage.
The one perched on the hill,
Overlooking the lake,
With windows that had wide benches,
With comfy pillows that had taken in years of stunning sunrises and many glorious sunsets.
From her very first visit and all the years following,
It had been her favorite place to curl up and read.
He stood in the doorway of the living room,
As though he'd been waiting for her.
Nico had always been so intense,
Deep,
Fascinating,
His gaze making her feel seen.
Over a decade ago,
She had loved him in this all-consuming,
Irresistible way.
They had spent a summer tumbling through cities in beds,
Drinking each other in like they were the last drops of water on earth,
The kind of love that was so intoxicating,
There wasn't room in life for much else.
Almost as quickly as it began,
The unraveling of everything that felt so passionate,
So unshakable,
Came in like a storm.
She could still picture his face in that very moment he uncovered what she knew he never wanted to know.
From that day forward,
His eyes held a different kind of darkness.
After that,
He'd disappear into himself,
Into depression,
Into a private silence she couldn't reach.
She left brokenhearted,
Feeling completely shut out,
Believing their love wasn't enough to break through what Nico wouldn't talk to her about,
And instead,
Chose to carry on his own.
Now,
Seeing him again,
She felt that same pull.
His eyes caught hers and held unblinkingly,
Steady,
A tether invisible yet undeniable.
Her pulse quickened.
Lauren,
He said,
His voice rough like gravel underfoot.
It's been a while.
Her mouth went dry.
For a heartbeat,
The room was full of everything unsaid.
Memory,
Desire,
Along with the weight of what they had lost,
Without any explanation.
Lauren felt uncomfortable in the silence,
So she just started to explain.
Well,
Nathan's away for the next few days with work.
I thought I'd get up here,
Enjoy the fall leaves,
You know,
Just get out of the house,
A change of scenery.
She trailed off,
Aware of how unnerved she felt,
Feeling self-conscious that maybe she was rambling on.
Nico smiled quietly to himself.
He loved that he still had this effect on her,
And he was well aware of the effect Lauren had always had on him.
He was acutely aware that she was his brother's wife,
Also well aware of the pit in his stomach.
Their time together had come to an abrupt end,
And he hadn't known how to weave it back together.
It remained an unspoken secret between them.
Well,
Not a secret exactly,
More like a wound they both pressed on every time their eyes met.
It lived in the pit of his stomach and the back of her throat,
Reminding them that love can feel like home and danger at the same time.
There was so much left unsaid between them,
Too much to even know where to begin,
So instead Nico offered to make her a cup of tea and take her bags upstairs to settle in.
Nico started feeling the discomfort of Lauren's surprise arrival,
And he also sensed she needed some time on her own.
He decided to make up an excuse about heading back to the city to make his way home a few days before he had intended to.
With the cottage all to herself,
Sitting outside on the porch,
Watching the sun begin to set,
Warm cup of tea in hand,
Her thoughts drifted in to how long it had been since she'd visited her mom,
Feeling a twinge of guilt that she hadn't reached out in a while and hadn't visited for even longer.
Actually,
She was trying to remember when the last visit was.
The visits took their toll.
They always seemed strained,
With too many topics off-limits,
Too many triggers that had built up over the time shared together.
Her father had vanished when she was just six years old.
One day he was there,
Helping her finish her favorite puzzles,
Laughing along with her,
And the next day he was simply gone.
Even now,
All those years later,
Lauren still really didn't know the reason why.
It was such a point of strain between them,
Even now,
Her mom wasn't honest about what had happened between them.
At the time,
Her mom's explanations for his sudden disappearance were simple.
Things like business trips,
Delayed flights,
Meetings that ran long,
But even as a little girl,
Lauren knew better.
She didn't have the words for it then,
But she had the ache.
Abandonment wasn't something you learned about,
It was something your body already knew.
It showed itself in the way she clung too tightly to those who stayed,
In the way she shrank herself so no one else would leave.
As a young girl,
She didn't know the word for it,
But abandonment leaves scars without ever speaking a word.
So maybe it wasn't such a mystery,
Her love for the brothers,
Nathan with his reckless joy that made the world feel lighter,
And Nico with those eyes that undid her.
Eyes that didn't just look at her,
But into her,
As if he could see the parts she tried hardest to hide,
And loved her even more for them.
Even though they were brothers,
They couldn't have been more different,
And they each loved her in their own unique way.
So maybe it wasn't such a mystery,
Her love for the brothers,
Nathan with his reckless joy that made the world feel lighter,
And Nico with those eyes that undid her.
Eyes that didn't just look at her,
But into her,
As if he could see the parts she tried hardest to hide,
And loved her even more for them.
Even though they were brothers,
They couldn't have been more different,
And they each loved her in their own unique way.
She gathered them in like scraps,
As if between the two of them,
She might finally piece together the father who had walked away.
As the years gathered up,
Lauren found it harder and harder to accept that she may never know why,
Or what her father's life is all about now.
She decided to make herself a soup,
Something warm and nourishing,
Now that the evening chill had set in.
While she was chopping up the vegetables,
Her thoughts returned to Nathan and Nico,
As they often did,
And she wondered if she'd always feel such love for both of them.
Her love was unique and different for each brother,
But it was a deep love for both of them that filled her with confusion and shame.
