Chapter Text
"The bravest thing I ever did was to continue living even when I wanted to die."
Convincing Andrew and Aaron to let him live alone was not easy. Their anxiety was palpable, even if they did not say it directly. But Nicky insisted. He was a grown man, and he wanted to prove that he could live alone, not only with them, but with himself.
"Are you sure you can handle it?"
Aaron asked on the last evening, as they sat in the kitchen of the dorm, the three of them gathered.
"I'm sure", Nicky nodded, trying to sound firm. "I have to do this, Aaron."
Andrew, sitting on the windowsill with a cigarette in his hands, watched Nicky carefully.
"If anything happens," he said coldly. "You'll call us. Right away."
Nicky knew that there was concern hidden behind that stern tone.
"I will, Andrew. But nothing will happen."
The brothers exchanged silent glances. Nicky knew that they were still worried, but they trusted him.
The move was both terrifying and exhilarating. Nicky found a small, cozy apartment near the university where he enrolled as a primary school teacher, when he finally had to leave Exy because of constant pain in his arms and weakness that never completely went away.
The Foxes supported him as much as his brothers.
Allison called almost every week, chatting with him about new films, fashion and gossip.
"Listen, have you seen that the neighbors have changed their curtains again?"
She asked once, teasing Nicky after he told her that there was always something interesting going on at the neighbors across the street.
"Come on, Al, I'm just noticing details", he laughed back.
"Noticing details, huh?", Allison chuckled.
"Then tell me, what color are they now?"
"Blue with white stripes. And they finally got rid of that ugly ficus tree on the windowsill", Nicky answered immediately.
"You're incorrigible", Alison laughed. "Maybe you should have gone to be a detective instead of a teacher?"
"Don't envy my talent, Al."
"Yeah, yeah, your "talent" for noticing everything that doesn't matter", she teased. "How are you doing? Do you even eat normally? Or do you live on chips and coffee?"
"Oh, Mommy, don't start", Nicky snorted. "I'm a grown man, I can figure it out myself."
"A grown man who recently told me how he slept until noon and forgot to buy groceries."
Allison teased sarcastically.
"I'm just taking care of you, genius."
"Well, since you love taking care of me so much, you can come over and cook me dinner", Nicky tried to joke.
"Okay, but keep in mind that I’m bringing broccoli and quinoa", Allison countered.
"Okay, I give in! You win. I’m going to the store today."
Dan and Matt would invite him on walks in the evenings.
"Nicky, you should come with us", Dan would coax. "We’ll sit on the boardwalk, eat ice cream, and talk. It’ll be good for you to get some fresh air."
"Or maybe we’ll play board games?", Matt would add.
Sometimes they’d show up unannounced, knocking on the door with pizza and a bunch of movies.
"This is our official "Nicky watch"", Matt would smile, handing him a box of food.
Renee would often text him inspirational quotes or pictures with a sweet message. One day, she came to him with new brushes and paints, noticing that Nicky loved to draw and would occasionally doodle on scraps of paper or napkins.
"I thought you might like to try something new", she said, hugging him.
Kevin checked in regularly to see how his physical therapy and classes were going.
"If you need advice, call me", he said seriously.
Kevin had become Nicky’s best friend, the only person he could call right after a nightmare. In his dreams, Nicky would find himself alone again and again, broken like a doll, with a knife in his hand from which there was no escape. These moments awakened a burning fear in him, and Kevin’s voice always brought relief.
Kevin would always come to him in the middle of the night, angry, sleepy, but without questions. He would show up in his pajamas, his hair disheveled, and his frowning face said that he wanted to sleep more than anything in the world. But that didn’t stop him. Without saying hello, he would open the door, push Nicky aside, and head into his small bedroom. There, as always, he unceremoniously fell onto the bed, stretching out across, as if he was at home.
"Jump..."
Kevin wheezed, already on the verge of sleep, opening his arms.
These words sounded like an order, but Nicky felt warmth in them. Nicky would lie down next to him willingly and gratefully, feeling the anxiety slowly recede, dissolving in the familiar smell and warmth of his friend.
It was good to have friends like that.
Even Neil invited him to the team games.
"You should come, Nicky. You need to see Andrew in goal."
He would say, and there was something like pride in his voice.
"There’s a game on Friday. Allison already said you’d come."
And so it turned out — Nicky almost never refused. He no longer wore a uniform, but he always came with a bright orange scarf around his neck and a huge sign in his hands that said something like "You’re the best!" or "Go Foxes!". Sure, Nicky wasn’t playing on the field anymore, but he was still part of the team.
The next time he found himself at the stadium, Abby was right there with him as soon as he walked in.
"Hi, Nicky!"
She said it with such warmth, as if she saw him not every week, but once a year. She hugged him, smoothed his unruly hair and asked.
"So, how are things going at university?"
"Everything is fine, Abby", he mumbled, smiling sheepishly.
"That's good. You didn't forget about Sunday, did you?", she reminded.
"Dinner? Of course I'll come. How could I miss your lasagna?"
"That's great. And by the way, can I ask you to help me cook?"
"Sure."
When the game started, Nicky, as always, was the loudest, cheering for the Foxes. From the stands, he saw Wymack glance in his direction, and in that look there was that rare, almost elusive paternal warmth that had previously seemed unattainable to Nicky.
After the game, he lingered near the team to congratulate them.
"Nicky, you're great to come", Neil said, coming closer. "See you on Sunday?"
"Sure, see you", Nicky answered, smiling. "And try not to be late at least once."
"I don't think so", Neil laughed.
All this helped Nicky feel like a part of their lives. Evenings with the team became bright spots in his new reality.
Old injuries reminded themselves of themselves with cutting pain and numbness in his fingers, especially in bad weather. One rainy evening, Aaron called him.
"How are you? Everything okay?"
His voice was worried, although he tried to sound casual.
"Everything is fine."
Nicky answered, smiling, although Aaron could not see him.
"Studying. Pedagogy turned out to be more boring than I imagined."
"Any pain in your hands?"
Nicky sighed.
"It's bad today. But Kevin found me a great physical therapist. He's helping."
"If it gets worse, you..."
"I'll call you, Aaron", Nicky interrupted, laughing. "You're like Andrew."
"It's just...", Aaron hesitated. "We're worried about you. That's all."
"I know. And it means a lot to me. But honestly, I'm coping."
The conversation ended on a calm note, but Nicky felt that his brothers' concern was always there, like an invisible shield.
A couple of weeks later, Andrew suddenly appeared at his door.
"What are you doing here?"
Nicky asked, surprised, letting him in. Andrew shrugged.
"I was driving by."
"Really?"
Andrew didn't answer, but Nicky understood. It was their way of showing concern: not with words, but with actions. Andrew looked around the apartment.
"It's cozy. It's clean. You're not falling apart."
"Thank you for such a high rating", Nicky chuckled.
"If something happens..."
"I know", Nicky interrupted, rolling his eyes. "I'll call."
Andrew nodded and stayed for a few minutes, but before he left, Nicky stopped him.
"Tea?"
"Coffee."
Nicky knew that his brothers and friends were always there. Their support was like a quiet background — not intrusive, but always present. He saw it in their eyes, heard it in their voices. And this trust became a huge support for him.
Every day was a small step forward, and Nicky was proud of himself. After all, he continued to live, even when it seemed impossible.
...
One year later
Nicky still hadn't deleted Erik's number from his contacts. This number would never appear on his phone screen again. No one would call or write, but getting rid of it seemed unbearable. Several times he had already hovered his finger over the "delete" button, but something in his chest squeezed, preventing him from doing it. He knew that Erik was gone, he knew it with all his being, but getting rid of the last thing he had left still seemed wrong and unfair. The long canvases of their old correspondence became something of a life preserver for Nicky. In the evenings, when the loneliness rolled especially sharply, he climbed into bed, hiding from the world under a warm blanket. There, in the secluded silence of his bedroom, he opened their chat and began to read, word by word, line by line. Erik's stupid jokes, his tender wishes for good night, indignant stories about his boss, inspired monologues about a new film that Nicky absolutely had to see. Even simple shopping lists that Erik sometimes dropped in the chat so as not to forget anything and so that Nicky still felt part of the house. All this was now priceless, the only connection with the one who was no longer there.
Photos…Nicky couldn’t bring himself to delete any of them, even the blurry or damaged ones. They were his last window into a world where Erik still existed. Sometimes Nicky was afraid that one day he would wake up and suddenly forget the features of his face, the sound of his voice or his laughter. These pictures – smiles, random shots from trips, Erik wrapped in a blanket and lying with a book on the couch – became peace for him. Every morning and evening Nicky looked at them, for the hundredth time, until his hands trembled, until tears came, knowing that Erik would be proud of him.
But Nicky didn’t want to forget. Even if it hurt, even if time after time it felt like his heart was being cut out of his chest alive. Nicky wanted to remember. Because to forget was to betray. And he couldn’t do that. Not with Erik. Not with their love.
But the days went by…
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. In the flow of time, the pain seemed to dull, and the habit of being unhappy became part of his daily routine. Nicky curled up under the blanket less and less often, crying and biting the pillow to muffle his sobs, less and less often took out his phone to reread old messages. He knew them almost by heart, but they no longer brought the same sharp pain as before, they did not break his heart.
It happened less and less often for him to lie in bed all day, unable to get up. If such moments still rolled in, he picked up the phone, dialed a familiar number - now they always answered. The voices on the other side did not resemble Erik's voice, but there was still something alive, warm, and familiar in them - this helped.
It gradually became easier. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, as if the old, tight knot in his chest was gradually weakening. Time did not heal, but it taught, allowed him to breathe a little deeper, move a little more confidently.
Nicky cried when he woke up one year later and for the first time did not feel that terrible emptiness that had previously made him regret not dying in his sleep. He cried when, at a meeting with friends who had flown in from Germany, he suddenly caught himself not looking around for Erik. He cried when he moved into a new apartment - almost exactly like the one he and Erik had once dreamed of.
This apartment became a symbol of hope for him. Peach-colored walls, wide windows, a small balcony overlooking the park. Erik always said that such a balcony was ideal for morning coffee. And although Nicky now drank it alone, these moments were not as painful.
He was still sad. He still yearned, grieved and cried. But the tears no longer burned as much as before. They seemed to wash away the pain, making room for something new. The bitterness of loss gradually gave way to bright memories. And with this, Nicky began to understand: life was not over. It was different, but it continued.
...
It was Neil's idea, which in itself was unexpected, because of his skepticism about psychology. He had never gone to a psychologist voluntarily and was not embarrassed to say that he did not understand why someone would pay to talk about their feelings when they could just run. Andrew only raised an eyebrow at such statements and Neil immediately fell silent, muttering under his breath that he did not need it.
"I saw the ad in Betsy's office and thought... maybe it would help, right?"
Neil shrugged, trying to sound casual, but gave himself away: his voice sounded a little uncertain. In his hands he held a small brochure on which was printed in bold letters: "Support group for those who have lost their partner. You are not alone."
Nicky silently took it, examining it. Erim's face immediately floated before his eyes, and his chest squeezed painfully. He didn't want to go there, didn't want to talk to strangers about how much he hurt inside. It was too personal.
"Maybe it would."
Nicky finally said, but his voice was hollow, as if he didn't believe his own words. Neil nodded, relaxing a little.
"Just try it, Nicky. If you don't like it, you can always stop going."
Neil's gaze was almost pleading. Nicky knew that gaze - Neil rarely showed his emotions so openly, but in those moments it became clear: he sincerely wanted to help. Nicky couldn't refuse him.
"Okay, I'll go."
Only a few days later, sitting at the first meeting, he realized that this was not just concern, but almost skillful manipulation. Neil knew perfectly well what points to press and how to convince him to do what he did not want. And, admittedly, it was for the best.
The support group became Nicky's salvation. The first meetings were difficult - he barely spoke, just listened to other people's stories, torn between the desire to leave and the strange relief of realizing that he was not alone. Gradually, he began to tell his story too. He began to notice that every evening in the company of these people gave him the strength to live on.
"Don't underestimate Neil", thought Nicky. He always had a gift for seeing what others needed, even if he himself never followed his own advice. Nicky was grateful to him, although he did not immediately admit it. It really helped.
The room was small, but, as always, cozy: soft chairs stood in a circle, near the wall - a small table with bottles of water, tea and cookies. Nicky walked in, hesitating slightly at the door, as if he hadn't gotten used to this place in six months. But looking around, he immediately noticed familiar faces, relaxing.
"Hey, Nick!"
Denis called, smiling. Nicky waved back, the nickname pleasantly warmed his heart, a new life - a new name. She sat next to Alex, who always carried a thermos of tea with him, preferring it to the local selection of drinks.
"You're just in time, we were just about to start."
Nicky nodded and took his seat. Today, the group was almost complete: Denis and Alex, the same old member as Nicky himself, who had never missed a single meeting. Kate, who lost her fiance, like Nicky lost Erik, in a car accident. Peter, who still could not talk about his wife without stumbling. And Maria, whose wife died in the service. And someone new, a young guy who didn't even look up at him when Nicky walked in.
"How's the week been?"
Alex asked, taking a sip of tea from his ever-present thermos.
"Fine", Nicky said, shrugging. "School, same as always. Nothing out of the ordinary, you know."
"Nick", Denise said, leaning forward, "we're not here to listen to you hide behind 'fine.' How are you really?"
Nicky sighed, running his hand through his hair.
"Actually... it's a little easier. I woke up this morning and didn't feel... you know, that lump in my throat that I usually have. But then I thought about Erik, and I started crying anyway."
"It's okay", Maria said softly.
"Grief is waves. Sometimes you think you've learned to swim, and then suddenly it hits you again."
"It's not a question of stopping crying", Denise added. "It's about learning to live, even if you cry sometimes."
"Sounds like something out of a self-help book", Alex muttered, but his voice was kind.
Nicky smiled.
"How are you, Denis?", he asked, to redirect attention.
"Better. Last week I started going to dances. At first I thought it was stupid — who dances when... well, you know. But I liked it. Although, honestly, I feel like an elephant on the dance floor."
They laughed, and even the usually gloomy Peter smiled.
These evenings became more than just a meeting. The group turned into a family, where everyone understood what it was like to lose someone important, and how hard it was to move on. Here you could cry, laugh, share your most bitter thoughts and receive warmth in return.
"Oh, you started without me?", Dr. Richard's voice rang out as he walked into the room.
Richard, their psychologist and the organizer of this group, looked at everyone with his usual, slightly sly look. A smile played on his face, and he folded his arms across his chest.
"And all because you're late!", Denis laughed, nodding at the clock.
"There are still five minutes until the start, Denis. So it's not me who's late, it's you who's just too punctual."
Dr. Richard raised an eyebrow and pretended to check his wristwatch carefully.
"Maybe you don't need a psychologist then?", he continued, demonstratively taking a book out of his bag. "By the way, I have a very interesting book with me..."
He pretended to leave, but, smiling, sat down in his chair when everyone, laughing, began calling him back.
"Okay, okay, you won't get rid of me that easily", he said, settling himself more comfortably. "Well, has everyone said hello yet?"
After the nods of agreement, Richard sat up straighter, his expression serious.
"Then let's get started. We have a new member today. His name is Sam. Sam, would you like to introduce yourself?"
The guy sitting a little to the side shrugged. He was about twenty-five, maybe a little younger. He was thin and had a dull look in his eyes, looking at the floor, as if he was afraid to meet anyone's eyes in the room.
"I don't know what to say", he muttered quietly.
"It's okay", Richard said calmly, nodding.
"You can tell me what brought you here. And you don't have to tell me everything right away if you don't want to."
Sam nodded, still not looking up.
"Well... my name is Sam." He sighed, as if gathering his strength. "My girlfriend died a few months ago. Cancer."
His voice trailed off, and Sam covered his face with hands, his head down. There was silence in the room for a few seconds.
Nicky saw Peter look away, his jaw tense and his fists clenched. Denise stopped smiling, looking somewhere in front of her, as if remembering something painful. Nicky himself could not tear his eyes away from Sam's wrists, on which fresh white bandages glistened. They were too familiar to him.
"I'm very sorry to hear this, Sam."
Richard said softly, taking his time and giving the boy time to recover.
"It's a huge loss, but you're here, and that's important."
Sam nodded, lowering his hands, but still avoiding looking at anyone.
"We're here to help each other. No one here expects anything from you", Richard added. "The main thing is that you decided to come."
Nicky wanted to say something, but his throat tightened. He knew what it was like to speak out loud for the first time about his loss in front of strangers. He knew how words seemed to burn a hole inside.
"Thank you for coming."
Peter said suddenly quietly. His voice was shaking, but there was sincerity in it.
Sam glanced at him quickly, then at the others, as if noticing for the first time that he was not alone.
"Is there anything else you want to say, or are you taking a break?", Richard asked softly, leaning forward a little.
Sam exhaled loudly, as if gathering his strength, and finally raised his head, looking around at those sitting around him. Nicky shuddered, noticing the familiar emptiness and doom in his eyes. It was the same look he had once seen in the mirror.
"My friend made me come here. Because of this", Sam said, and without waiting for a reaction, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.
White bandages were visible on his wrists, hiding the scars, but in no way hiding the obvious meaning. Nicky felt something squeeze in his chest. He had noticed the bandages before, but now they stood out like a cry for help.
Nicky had to stop himself from running his fingers over his own scars, uncovered by the short sleeves of his T-shirt. Nicky was no longer ashamed of them, not here, in this room, where everyone knew what the pain of loss looked like.
"You can judge me, I don’t care", Sam snapped, his voice shaking but his eyes unreadable.
"It’s not like that", Nicky interrupted suddenly, before he could think.
Sam looked up at him in surprise, and Nicky bit his tongue, realizing he had interrupted.
"Sorry", he added quickly. "I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry."
Nicky glanced quickly at Dr. Richard, expecting a rebuke, but Dr. Richard merely nodded at him, as if to say: "Go on."
"I just wanted to say I understand", Nicky said quietly, looking down.
He turned his wrists, showing his own scars, long healed but still visible. Sam froze, looking at them. His eyes softened, and a spark of understanding flashed through them.
"You too?", he whispered.
Nicky nodded.
"Yeah. I’ve been where you are now. It’s hard. And I know words are nothing, but… you’re not alone, Sam."
The room was silent for a moment, tense and warm at the same time. Sam looked at Nicky, as if for the first time he’d found something that could give him hope.
"I’ve been there. We all have. And believe me, we know that the hardest part is not the beginning, when the pain is still sharp and all-consuming, when it feels like the world is collapsing around you."
Nicky began, trying to find the words. His voice was even, but there was a tremor of tension in it.
"The worst moments are when you face life after. When you realize that you have to go on living without this person, fill the void, even though they are no longer around."
Kate, who was sitting on Nicky’s right, nodded, encouraging him. Her eyes were full of bitter understanding.
"And I want to tell you one thing."
Nicky continued, clasping his hands tightly, as if it helped him hold on.
"No matter how cruel, no matter how unbearable it is, you can cope. With anything."
He looked at Sam, who was still looking at him, his hands helplessly lying in his lap.
"When the thought sounds in your head: I can’t imagine life without this person. I can’t cope. I can’t stand it. It’s normal. It’s natural. But most importantly, don’t run away. Don’t try to forget it or bury it inside. It’s a part of you, a part of your life, and it will stay with you forever."
Nicky exhaled, as if freeing himself from a heavy burden.
"My boyfriend will never call me again, ask how I'm doing, or ask me to go to the movies... we'll never move in together, become husbands, have kids..."
His voice wavered, but Nicky forced himself to continue.
"But that doesn't mean my life doesn't mean anything anymore. That doesn't mean I can't be happy again."
Silence fell over the room. Everyone listened without interrupting, as if they didn't want to ruin this moment. Sam was still silent, but his shoulders shook slightly, as if under the weight of Nicky's words.
No one expected him to answer. Everyone knew that the hardest part was the very beginning. But there was something reassuring in that silence. As if each of them were saying without words: You can do it. We did it, and you can too.
Dr. Richard gave Nicky a small smile, letting him know that he had done everything right. Denise, who was sitting next to him, leaned closer and extended her hand, wrapping her warm palm around his fingers. Her support was silent but noticeable. Kate, who was sitting on his right, moved closer too, as if they were creating an invisible circle of care around him.
Nicky squeezed Denise's hand, and finally allowed himself to relax a little.
"Good, Nick. Very good. Thank you."
Richard said softly, nodding. He looked around at the others.
"So, who wants to continue? Peter, maybe you?"
The group continued. Nicky listened to the others' stories with half an ear, slowly coming to his senses. His thoughts rushed between his own words and Sam's gaze, which had not taken its eyes off him for a second during this entire time.
When the meeting was over, Nicky stood up, buttoning his jacket over his T-shirt. He was just heading home when he heard a voice.
"Nick!"
He turned around. Kate stood at the top of the stairs and walked down towards him, holding her bag over her shoulder. Her steps were confident, but her gaze was thoughtful.
"That was an amazing speech", she breathed out, stopping next to him.
Nicky smiled sheepishly, looking down.
"You think so?"
"Definitely", she nodded.
Her voice was warm, but there was something personal, intimate, in it.
"There are some things I didn't say at the group, but I want you to know."
Kate smiled slightly, and the thin scar on her cheek shifted slightly. Nicky felt his heart beat faster. He knew her story. He knew that she had been dealing with clinical depression for two years after the terrible accident that took the life of her fiancé. The scar on her face was not just a mark, but a constant reminder of the tragedy from which she would not be able to hide.
Kate paused, as if choosing her words.
"When you said it… it was like you were talking to me as well as Sam", she admitted. "I’m still learning to live with him. And listening to you… it helped."
Nicky looked at her, feeling something shift inside him.
"Thank you for telling me", Neil said, his voice quieter than he’d intended. "It means a lot to me."
Kate nodded, her eyes shining with emotion.
"I met a guy", Kate whispered, as if afraid she might be overheard. "It’s just coffee, but…"
She glanced around fearfully, as if expecting judgment, even though it was just Nicky and her on the street.
Nicky smiled widely, his eyes shining with genuine joy. He reached out and squeezed her thin hand.
"That’s the first step. I’m so happy for you!"
Kate was a little embarrassed, but she couldn’t help but smile.
"And you?"
She asked, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Her eyes gleamed slyly.
"I heard something..."
Nicky rolled his eyes, guessing what she was hinting at.
"I even know who you heard it from. Alex told you, right?"
"What?"
Kate shook her head with exaggerated innocence.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course."
Nicky shook his head, but there was a kind smile on his face.
"So it's true?", Kate persisted.
Nicky paused for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, but then nodded, and a spark of pride appeared in his eyes.
"Yes. I got a letter yesterday. I'm now officially a psychology student. I'll be working with children. Maybe I can help someone."
Kate squeezed his hand lightly, her gaze warming.
"You'll do great, Nick."
His smile grew even brighter, but there was a little more emotion in it than he wanted to show.
Nicky couldn't decide on a major for a long time. Studying had never been his strong point, neither in the humanities nor in technical sciences. He didn't know what he could teach children, and even thought about quitting everything. But one day, Alex, his friend from the group, suggested that he try to become a child psychologist.
This thought made him remember little Aaron, Andrew as he was, Neil, Kevin, Renee... and himself. Nicky realized that if he had had a person at the time to whom he could turn for help, many things could have been different. And if he didn't have such a person, then he could become one for someone else.
"Do you really think so?", Nicky asked quietly, peering into Kate's face.
"Of course. You're perfect for this", she answered with the confidence that Nicky so lacked.
She squeezed his forearm in a supportive gesture.
"Do you think they see it? See us?"
Nicky asked quietly, his voice shaking slightly.
"Of course. And they are incredibly happy and proud of us", Kate answered confidently, her eyes softly glowing with warmth.
Nicky bit his lip for a second, as if thinking about something important, then exhaled.
"I bought tickets to Germany."
Kate gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. She immediately grabbed his hands, as if she was afraid that he would change his mind.
"Are you serious?"
"I am", Nicky nodded, his voice calm, but there was tension in it.
Kate's gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand a little tighter. She knew how difficult this step was for him. Germany was connected with Erik: every street, every cafe, every familiar corner would remind him of the one who is no longer there. That was why Nicky had been hesitant to go there for so long. His friends had come to him themselves, understanding that he was not ready yet. But now more than a year had passed, and now he realized that it was time.
"Did you really do it?", she asked cautiously, as if she could not believe her own ears.
"Yes, I did", he nodded again, a weak, timid smile flickering on his lips.
"To be honest, I still can’t believe it myself. That’s why I didn’t tell anyone."
Kate smiled back at him, her eyes shining with joy and pride.
"Thank you for your trust, Nick. It’s... It’s really important."
She hugged him, tightly, in a friendly way, but there was such warmth in her gesture that Nicky closed his eyes for a second, allowing himself to feel this support.
When she pulled away, her smile grew wider.
"Well, see you next week then", Kate said, waving her hand and heading down the street.
"Hey, don't forget, we're going to the bar on Saturday!", Nicky called after her.
"See you Saturday then!", Kate responded, turning around as she walked, and winked at him before disappearing around the corner.
Nicky stood there, watching her go. He clutched the tickets in his jacket pocket, as if convincing himself that all this was real. There was a light, cold wind blowing outside, but inside he felt warm. He took the first step. From here on out, only forward.
...
The house greeted him with the usual warmth and ringing barks. Noah, as always, ran out to meet him, happily wagging her tail and nuzzling her muzzle into his knees. She demanded attention, as if reproaching him for the long separation. This was her usual manner - sincerely, noisily and with complete devotion.
"Hello! Hello, beauty!", Nicky said joyfully, kneeling down.
His hands slid softly over Noua's light, slightly wavy fur. She was not just a pet. No, this dog meant so much more to Nicky. Noah was a certified therapy dog Labrador retriever, a gift from David and Abby. It was a surprise to Nicky, but he couldn't stop thanking them for the decision.
The name "Noah" had a story behind it, too. Nicky had once remarked that it sounded unusual for a dog, since "Noah" was more often associated with a boy's name. But Kevin had said that it meant "calming" and "peaceful." Nicky liked that much more than any of the other options he'd been offered. God, Nicky hoped that if Neil and Andrew ever decided to get pets, Andrew would never let Neil choose their names.
Noah was indispensable, especially when nightmares pierced Nicky's mind, depriving him of peace and sleep. There were days when he couldn't even pick up his phone lying nearby or cope with a sudden attack of panic. Then Noah was there, without unnecessary words, without reproaches. She just quietly lay down next to him, warmed him with her presence and reminded him that he needed to breathe. Her warmth and calm brought him back to life, pulled him out of the darkness.
"Do you know how much I missed you? Do you know?", he whispered, hugging her neck.
Noah poked her wet nose into his cheek, as if confirming that she missed him too.
"Let’s go. Andrew will be here soon, and I still need to change", Nicky said, glancing at his watch.
As he passed a shelf in the hallway, his gaze stopped for a moment on a framed photo. Erik was in the picture, with his wide smile, always sincere and warm. Nicky ran his fingertips along the glass, as if trying to feel at least an echo of what had happened. Noah, as if sensing his mood, whined pitifully and nuzzled his palm with her cold nose.
"It's okay", Nicky said quietly, bending down to scratch her behind the ears. "It's a good sadness."
Noah looked at him attentively with her intelligent eyes, which reflected such sincere devotion that Nicky's heart sank. He couldn't help but laugh when her rough tongue began to lick his hands with great diligence.
"Good girl", he said, smiling and patting her neck. "It's okay, really."
He straightened up and took one last look at the photo, inhaling deeply and disappearing into the bedroom.
Nicky made it just in time: a short horn sounded from the street as a car pulled up.
"I think that's Andrew. Let's go", he said to Noah, and the dog immediately stood up, ready to follow him, as always.
Nicky grabbed two heavy boxes of pies from the table, which he had baked especially for this evening. The aroma of cinnamon and apples was already filling the house, awakening warm associations. Tonight promised to be special: Aaron was going to make an official announcement about his engagement to Katelyn. Only a blind man could not yet guess what was happening between them - their meaningful glances and undisguised smiles spoke for themselves. Well, a blind man and Neil, who seemed to be completely unaware of everything around him.
As soon as Nicky went outside, holding the heavy boxes in his hands, Andrew got out of the car, heading towards him with a confident gait.
"You know I can handle this, right?", Nicky said with a smile when Andrew took the boxes from him.
He was still grateful for the help. No matter how hard Nicky tried to pretend he could handle it, his arms still ached when he had to carry something heavy, and Andrew, of course, knew it.
"I want to help. Or are you against it?"
Andrew asked rhetorically, already putting the boxes on the backseat of the car. His voice was calm, but his eyes showed stubborn concern.
"No", Nicky shook his head, turning to adjust Noah's leash.
Andrew put the pies away and squatted down in front of the dog.
"Is she working now, or can I pet her?"
He asked with a slight grin, making no attempt to touch her without permission. Noah seemed to maintain complete composure, as befits a therapy dog, but her happily wagging tail betrayed real emotions.
"You can", Nicky answered, smiling himself. "She's been waiting for this for so long. Just look at her eyes, she missed you."
Andrew smiled too. Quickly, but sincerely enough for Nicky to notice. He reached out and began to stroke Noah, running his hand gently down her neck.
"Because I’m her favorite? Right, pretty girl?", he said quietly, addressing the dog.
"Should Neil start to be jealous?", Nicky asked with a slight mockery, watching this scene.
Andrew only grinned in response, continuing to scratch the side of a joyful Noah, who looked like she was about to melt with happiness. Andrew was so sincere at this moment, so pleased, that Nicky could not hold back a smile.
They already had to go, but Nicky thought that they could stay a little longer. Sometimes such moments, simple and warm, were more precious than any holidays.
The road to Abby from Nicky's house did not take that long - close enough that they could see each other at least every day, but still far enough that no one would show up without warning. Although over time, Nicky realized that this would not stop anyone.
"Where is Neil?"
He asked Andrew, watching how he deftly drove the car along the winding road. Usually, Neil would come with Andrew, and the three of them would go to Abby's for Sunday dinner. But today, it seemed, there was a change in plans.
"Running", Andrew answered shortly, not even taking his eyes off the road.
Nicky frowned. Neil had a habit of running in the morning to relieve stress, but running in the evening, especially unexpectedly, meant that something was wrong. It immediately worried him.
"Something happened?", he asked carefully, trying not to sound too alarmed.
"He'll figure it out himself. He's a big boy", Andrew waved her hand, calmly turning onto the main road.
That confidence usually calmed Nicky, but not now. However, feeling Noah rest her head on his shoulder, he forced himself to relax. The dog, as if reading his anxiety, sighed softly, reminding him that everything was under control.
"Are you sure?", he asked again, still not completely letting go of his anxiety.
"Matt is with him", Andrew nodded, not taking his eyes off the road.
"Then good", Nicky said quietly, deciding not to focus on it anymore.
A pleasant silence filled the car. It was not an awkward pause, but that rare cozy moment when words were not needed. Nicky looked out the window, trying to make out the stars in the darkened sky, although he knew that it was too early for them. The wind gently stirred the treetops, the lights of the street lamps flickered, creating an almost magical atmosphere.
Andrew seemed to be concentrating all his attention on the road, but with each kilometer the interior became warmer and cozier. The aroma of fresh pies that they were carrying with them gradually filled the space. Sweet notes of apples and cinnamon mixed with the light smell of hot dough, reminding of home warmth and anticipation of the holiday.
"Is that what I think?"
Andrew asked, not taking his eyes off the road, but clearly hinting at something specific. Nicky turned to him in surprise.
"What are you talking about?"
"Smells", Andrew clarified.
Nicky was wary for a moment. He leaned over and sniffed his sweater, suddenly afraid that Andrew was hinting at some unpleasant smell. Andrew, noticing this, snorted, casting a glance at him out of the corner of his eye, full of good-natured mockery.
"Apples, Nicky. It smells like apples", he explained, shaking his head.
Nicky laughed, awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his sweater.
"Oh! You mean the pie!"
"Is there only apple pie?", Andrew asked casually, but his voice betrayed a hidden hope.
Nicky laughed again, feeling how a slight awkwardness dissolved in the warmth of their conversation.
"No, not only. I baked blueberry one, too. I know it's your favorite."
The corner of Andrew's lips twitched in a restrained smile, and his gaze became a little softer.
"Thank you, Nicky", he said quietly, with sincerity that always touched Nicky to the depths of his soul.
The warm words spread inside him like the hot July sun, from which it was impossible to hide. This feeling was still unusual - sincere gratitude, a simple, but so meaningful "thank you." Both he and Andrew had to make an effort to learn to accept and express these emotions. Joint sessions with Betsy did their job, helping them become closer.
Nicky took a deep breath. He felt amazing. Ahead of him was a cozy evening with friends and brothers, full of laughter and conversation. And in two weeks, he would go to Germany.
...
They all went to the airport together. Nicky tried to object that he could call a taxi, but no one listened to him. It was strange and pleasant at the same time to be in the same car again with the whole group, like before: Andrew at the wheel, Neil next to him in the passenger seat, and Nicky himself was squeezed between Aaron and Kevin.
His hands were shaking slightly from nerves. He had already taken a sedative to cope with the anxiety, but the feeling of anxiety still did not want to leave him. Noah, quietly settled at his feet, felt it. Nicky lowered his hand and gently stroked her head. He could do it, Nicky knew that he could.
The drive to the airport was almost silent. Only the soft noise of the engine and rare conversations broke it. There was something warm and nostalgic about that moment—all together again, even if separation lay ahead.
When they got to the airport, Nicky winced at the crowd at the check-in counter. It made sense that an airport would be crowded, but crowded, busy places always got on his nerves. He glanced down at Noah, who sat quietly next to him, wearing her yellow therapy dog vest. Her confident presence gave him peace.
"Good girl", he muttered, as if to himself, but there was genuine gratitude in his voice for her presence.
Nicky glanced around at his friends who were his support group today. Kevin, his usual serious expression, was pushing his suitcase on wheels, ignoring Nicky’s protests. Aaron stood next to him, his hands in his pockets, clearly nervous about the long separation ahead. Andrew, as usual, looked impassive, but Nicky knew where and how to look. His eyes quickly scanned the room, as if searching for a potential threat. The hand that was tightly gripping Neil’s hand showed that he was worried too. Maybe he was afraid that if he let go, Neil would run away. Or maybe it was his way of calming himself, trying to hold on to him in the chaos.
"Hey", Nicky said quietly, getting their attention, "everything will be okay."
He tried to smile, and at that moment it seemed to him that his words were not only for his friends, but for himself as well.
The guys from the group also offered to come to the airport to support him, but Nicky refused. The thought of being surrounded by a large crowd terrified him. Instead, they bombarded him with supportive messages all day: with emojis, hearts, and claps, exploding his phone with notifications. Nicky tried to answer every message. Even Sarah, the nurse who helped him during his rehabilitation, wrote a few kind lines. In response, Nicky sent her a photo of his acceptance letter to the psychology department, adding in the signature: "For your collection."
"I knew I'd add something from you one day", she replied, proud of him.
Nicky smiled, feeling his heart swell with gratitude.
"Okay, let's not drag out the goodbyes", he said, turning to his friends. "It's a regular flight. There and back, I'll be back soon."
He tried to joke, but everyone knew this was more than just a trip.
Kevin frowned, looking around as if checking if everything was okay.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?", he asked, slightly nervous. "I can still get tickets and..."
"No", Nicky shook his head, touched by Kevin's determination, and smiled slightly. "I'll be sad and maybe cry a little. Nothing out of the ordinary."
"We could do it together", Kevin insisted, causing Nicky to burst out laughing.
He hugged his friend tightly, feeling his concern that was impossible to hide.
"It’s okay. I won’t be alone."
Kevin lingered a little longer than usual before giving up his seat to Aaron.
"Okay, but call me as soon as you get there, okay?"
Hugging each of his friends in turn, Nicky promised to text and call as soon as he got there. He headed for his gate, feeling the nervous tremors return.
On the plane, he sat next to Noah. He had to buy her a separate ticket so that she could be there calmly. Nicky didn’t regret a single cent about it. Her presence helped him cope with his anxiety.
When his leg began to tremble slightly, Noah silently laid her muzzle on his knee, forcing him to stop. Nicky froze, feeling the dog's soft fur touch his fingers.
"You're right, as always", he whispered, taking a deep breath. "Everything will be fine."
The flight took less time than Nicky expected. He even managed to doze off a bit, but time still flew by, and now he was already stepping into the airport waiting room. This place awakened memories in him - both happy and bitter. Nicky couldn't help but remember how Erik used to stand here with a bright poster with cute and silly signatures, waving his arms and loudly shouting his name when he noticed him.
Now everything was different. Although the poster with the signature was still there, instead of Erik it was Henry, one of his friends, holding it. There were smiles too, only Martha and Anna were smiling at him. And they even shouted his name, waving from afar to get his attention.
"Nicky!"
Hannah's voice, full of joy, sounded especially loud.
She was the first to rush to him, hugging him tightly and so sincerely that he felt the tension in his shoulders begin to disappear. She looked like a little sun in her bright yellow outfit, as if she had decided to fill his day with light.
"Oh, Nicky, ich kann nicht glauben, dass du es bist!", she exclaimed, laughing.
*(Oh, Nicky, I can’t believe it’s you!)
Almost immediately, Martha, Anna, and Henry joined them. Nicky laughed, feeling his worries wash away like dirt in a pouring rain.
"Sieh dich nur an!", Martha said, cupping his face in her warm hands. She looked at him carefully, her smile proud and encouraging. "Du siehst so gut aus!"
*(Just look at you! You look so good!)
Nicky understood what she meant. He really did look better: he had adjusted his diet, his sleep, and there was no trace of the painful thinness and dark circles under his eyes.
"Ich danke dir, Martha. Du siehst auch toll aus."
*(Thank you, Martha. You look great too.)
But Anna, not wanting to waste time, grabbed his elbow and led him to the car.
"Wir haben so viele Pläne!", she said, smiling. "Du wollen wahrscheinlich erst einmal zu Hause vorbeischauen? Eine Dusche nehmen? Sind Du hungrig?"
*(We have so many plans! You probably want to stop by the house first? Take a shower? Are you hungry?)
"Ich würde Erik gerne zuerst besuchen", Nicky answered calmly.
*(I’d like to visit Erik first.)
There was a moment of silence between them, but Martha quickly broke it.
"Das ist eine tolle Idee, meine Liebe", she said softly.
*(That’s a great idea, dear.)
As they drove, Henry and Hannah vied with each other to tell Nicky the latest news, sharing funny and important events. Henry even let Noah sit on his lap so she could stick her head out the window and feel the breeze.
However, when the car stopped at the cemetery gates, the conversations died down. Everyone became more serious, realizing where they had come.
"Er ist dort, neben der Weide", Martha said, pointing forward.
Nicky nodded, taking a deep breath, as if gathering strength before taking this important step.
"Ich muss es selbst tun.", Nicky said, stopping Anna, who tried to follow him.
*(I have to do it myself.)
He smiled softly, trying to show that he could handle it, although his heart was pounding so hard that it seemed like everyone would hear it. Nicky left Noah’s leash in Henry’s hands, briefly stroking his faithful companion on the head. She whined softly, as if she felt his tension, but Nicky nodded soothingly to her and took the first step.
The road to the grave was short, but each step was terribly difficult. His legs felt like lead, his breathing became ragged. He tried to take a deep breath, but the air felt thick, as if there wasn't enough of it. Trying to keep himself under control, Nicky kept his eyes on the marble tombstone in front of him. The white stone glinted coldly in the sunlight, and on it were letters that spelled out a name that was too familiar, too dear.
"Erik Klose.
Beloved son, friend and partner.
You will always be in our hearts."
Nicky knelt down in front of the tombstone, his fingers shaking as he ran them over the engraved letters. The cold of the marble burned, but he continued to stroke the stone, as if trying to touch Erik himself.
Nicky closed his eyes, feeling the tears begin to flow down his cheeks. Nicky didn't even try to hold them back.
"Ich habe es getan, Erik. Ich habe mein Versprechen gehalten", he said barely audibly.
*(I did it, Erik. I kept my promise.)
Wherever you are, I hope you can hear me, Nicky thought. He wanted to believe that Erik saw how hard he was trying.
"Solange mein Herz schlägt, werde ich mich an dich erinnern. Ich verspreche, dass ich nie aufhören werde, dich zu lieben."
*(As long as my heart beats, I will remember you. I promise I will never stop loving you.)
Tears were streaming down his face, but they didn't have the same excruciating pain as before. These tears were different. This was release. A breeze gently swept across his cheeks, playing with his hair, blowing his bangs to the side. Like someone's caring, gentle touch.
"Erik?"
Nicky whispered, looking around hopefully.
There was no answer, of course. But in the rustling of the leaves he heard something familiar, something reminiscent of Erik's quiet laughter. His heart trembled, but not from pain, but from relief.
"Du sind hier, richtig?"
*(You're here, right?)
Nicky said, closing his eyes and allowing himself to smile.
Maybe it was just his fantasy, a figment of his imagination and a desperate hope, but he felt better. Erik hadn't abandoned him. He was still there. He had kept his promise, just as Nicky had kept his.
Nicky rose to his feet, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
They would definitely meet again, but for now Nicky would live as full a life as possible. And when his time came, he would have something to tell Erik. He would be proud of him.