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But my son is happy here.Thrivinghere.
I can’t remember him ever talking about his school in Philadelphia with this level of excitement. Maybe because I was exhausted and overwhelmed—juggling two jobs and still stressed about money. Here, my only concern is Leo.
But I think there’s more to it. Think of Nick’s words.“He’s half Russian.”
Leo’s new room here is the same size as our entire apartment in Philadelphia. It’s hardly surprising he’d prefer it.
And for the first time in his life, he’s living with both of his parents.
Not that he knows that.
Leo hasn’t run out of things to tell me by the time we return to the estate. I should appreciate it. Far too soon, I’m sure he’ll reach the teenage years, where dragging out a single sentence is a chore.
I’m happy Leo is happy. But I also resent it, and I can admit it to myself at least. It stings that he’s so happy and that Nick’s crimes don’t make him appear to be an inferior parent.
“Nick!”
I stop pulling my jacket off in the front hall to watch Leo beam at Nick, who’s talking with one of his men by the stairs.
There’s no mistaking the excitement in Leo’s voice. More excitement than when he was talking about his new teachers or the other students at his school, which was a high bar.
His obvious enthusiasm forms a fist of dread in my stomach at the prospect of telling Leo who Nick really is. Ethics aside, Nick has much more to offer Leo than I do. He has money, connections, clout. And I have no idea what Nick’s real expectations are when it comes to Leo. Sure, he said he wants Leo to know who he is. But I have no clue what that would look like. Co-parenting on different continents? Sending Leo here in the summers and worrying what could happen?
Nick walks over to us. I focus on the maid who’s appeared to take my coat while subtly eavesdropping on Nick asking Leo how his day was.
Leo is chattering away again, answering Nick’s questions. I cross my arms and watch them interact, that stupid pang in my heart appearing again.
Seeing them together is pleasure and pain.
A dream and a nightmare.
Bittersweet.
And it sucks me straight into what-ifs.
“Can I, Mom?”
“Can you what?” I ask, glancing at Leo.
“Go with Nick.”
I missed more of their conversation than I thought. “Go where?”
Leo looks to Nick since that’s a detail he didn’t ask, apparently. Another pang. Hewantsto go with Nick, wherever that might be.
“I have to take a trip to a training facility,” Nick tells me.
“Training for what?”
He runs a thumb along his lower lip, and I try not to focus on how distracting it is. Every time I see Nick, I’m reminded of how attractive he is. How he’s undeniably the best I’ve ever had in one clear respect. It’s inconvenient yet irrefutable.
“Defense.”
My eyes widen.
He’s notserious, right? But there’s no trace of teasing on his face.
“Leo, I need to talk to Nick for a minute. Go put your backpack in your room. And make your bed, please. You forgot to do it this morning.”
