Switchblades and Infidelity [DISCONTINUED]

eight

"I wanna wear the Star Wars shirt," Costello cheers. Instantly, Nia shushes the boy.

"Okay," she giggles, her voice low. "But you gotta be quiet, Stell. He's still sleeping."

Patrick sits up, his body stiff from the couch. He almost regrets his late night decision as he stretches, overhearing the muffled conversation between Nia and her son. A large portion is muted to him as he yawns, trying to become human again without caffeine at hand. As Patrick rubs sleep from his eyes, the two walk into the living room.

Patrick straightens, meeting their gaze.
"Morning," Nia says, a soft smile on her lips. She holds Costello's hand, the boy hiding behind her. He wears the Ninja Turtle backpack from last night. Patrick gives a weak smile.

"Morning," he mumbles.
"Hope we didn't wake you," she says. Patrick shakes his head.
"No, you're fine," he reassures. "Did you two already eat?"
"Uh, no, actually. We're a little behind schedule. I was just gonna stop by a drive-thru and get something for Stello."
"And yourself?" Patrick asks, quirking a brow.
"Uh, yeah, sure. I'll be back soon. Just dropping him off."

Patrick nods, letting Nia rush out the door with Costello by her side. She closes the door behind them, leaving Patrick alone for a moment. He stands from the couch, feeling his muscles finally loosen up. Patrick trudges to the kitchen, instantly brewing a pot of coffee. As he waits for the needed substance, he travels to his room and obtains his phone. Patrick clears some notifications from it. His eye catches on the sight of his bed, finding it to be made neatly— as if it had never been used to begin with. He returns to the kitchen, the aroma of fresh coffee starting to fill the space.

Patrick didn't want to allow his mind to wander on the situation Nia is facing. But it did anyway. What came up that costed her and Costello a room outside of their home? Was Ricky not as good as he thought?

Patrick could see that Nia was distracted, almost vacant. Even before she left with her son, she wasn't fully there. Her mind was elsewhere. The blonde man pours coffee into a mug as his mind spirals into thoughts and theories.

Is he abusing her? There's no marks. Maybe they're hidden. Maybe it's not physical abuse. Was Stello unsafe?

Patrick sips at his coffee, allowing the caffeine to give him his final boost of energy he needed for the day. He knows he isn't going to work, but the dark beverage had become routine— like one brushing their teeth. He opens the refrigerator, searching for breakfast. He glances at the clock on the stove. 7:45 AM.

Nia should be back soon, Patrick thinks to himself. He takes a carton of eggs out of the cool storage unit and a loaf of bread. He makes a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, knowing that Nia wouldn't eat much. He wasn't so hungry, himself. His body was used to skipping out as he rushed to the studio.

A knock sounds at the door just as Patrick finishes placing the food on plates. He opens the door, discovering Nia on the other side. The violet-eyed woman smiles weakly and enters her temporary home.

"Just made some breakfast," Patrick informs her as he closes the door.
"I already ate," Nia says quickly. Too quickly for Patrick to believe her. He quirks a brow at her as he hands her a plate of food.
"Yeah?" he quizzes. "What did you eat?"

Nia glances at the plate, then frowns. She takes the breakfast, signifying Patrick was right about her weak lie. The two sit at the small dinner table by the kitchen. Nia pokes around at the food, taking small bites occasionally.

"So..." Patrick huffs, trying to knife through the silence settled between them. "How's your morning?"

Nia shrugs, glancing up at Patrick briefly. Patrick takes another swig of coffee.

"I have green tea, if you'd like some."
"No thanks," the woman mumbles.
"Do you... want to talk?" Patrick tries as he takes a bite of toast.
"What about?"
"Well, for starters," the man sighs, "why you're here. What happened back at home? Do I have to kick his ass? You know I will without hesitation."

It's enough to crack a weak chuckle from the violet-eyed woman. It's short lived, but she fills the void with a small shake of her head.

"No," Nia mumbles. She pokes at her food, avoiding Patrick's gaze.
"You're my best friend, Nia," Patrick says, as if to remind her of the fact. "I want to help you, but I can't do that if I don't know what's wrong. You can tell me anything."

There's silence between the two. Nia dares herself to look up and meet Patrick's warm, concerned eyes. She chews at her lip nervously.

"I-It's bad," she stammers. Patrick's face contorts with confusion. "Like... really bad."
"It's not like you killed him, right?" the blonde laughs as he takes a sip of coffee. The joke starts to stir in his cloudy thoughts. He forces a gulp of the caffeinated drink rather than almost choking on it before he continues. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

Nia laughs, shaking her head.

"No, I didn't kill Ricky," she sighs. Her grin fades again.
"I'm guessing you didn't physically kill him... but emotionally?" Patrick tries.

Nia nods, pressing her lips into a fine line as she fights tears. Patrick can see them well in her eyes. A tear escapes and runs down her cheek, but Nia quickly wipes at it.

"A divorce?" Patrick mumbles. "Nia, don't be rash about this--"
"Not a divorce," the violet-eyed woman interjects. She fumbles with the hem of her shirt. "I-I mean... I had thought about it before."
"Nia."

Patrick's voice nothing but a whisper now. He stares at the woman before him in a new light, a light that confused him even more. This wasn't the same person from eight years ago. Patrick studies her form, struggling to product words from his gaping lips.

"He's a great guy," Nia rasps. The dam breaks, letting her tears cascade down her face. "And it'll be hard for Costello. I don't want him to grow up the same way I did. And there's just so much more."
"Like what?" Patrick dares himself to ask. He instantly regrets the question once Nia's eyes lock with his. He finds himself trapped in her gaze, his heart hammering against his chest.

He had forgotten how her eyes looked when she cried. It broke his spirit, but he couldn't help but notice how her lashes weaved with one another. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking sight.

"P-Patrick," she stammers, "it's really complicated."
"We're best friends," he reminds her. "You can tell me anything. I'll understand."
"I'm really not ready to face it--"
"Is he cheating?"
"No, I--"
"He's not abusing you two, is he?"
"God, no! Patrick--"
"Then what's so complicated? Are you cheating?"
"Costello is not his son!" Nia blurts out. 

Patrick freezes at the statement. The two are silent. His mind is silent for a moment, the hushed chatter of theories slowly rising.

"Wh--"
"Costello is not his son," Nia repeats breathlessly. It is almost as if the confession was choking her and she was finally inhaling air again. Patrick goes to dig deeper, but Nia cuts him off before he can make another sound.

"He's yours," she says.

He feels himself grow wan.

A/N:
Hey guys! Sorry this took so long! I got really busy with work and school. I just finished my finals for the semester! Just thought I'd come back with a chapter >:)

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