Switchblades and Infidelity [DISCONTINUED]

nine

Patrick blinks at the woman. He leans back into his seat, silent.

That doesn't make sense, he ponders. That doesn't make sense.

"You're kidding," he mumbles. He tries to laugh, but it only comes out as a puff of a sigh. "You've got to be kidding, right?"
"Are you serious, Patrick?" Nia glowers. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you this or even came here."
"It just doesn't make sense, Nia!" he blurts out.

Nia studies him. The minor silence between them is unsettling for the both of them.

"Stello is eight," Nia states. "The last time I saw you was eight years ago, Patrick. You remember what happened before I left for California, right?"

Patrick is silent, his head spinning as she relays the information to him.

"We went to the lake at the park. We were in your car," the woman explains vaguely. "I haven't been with anyone else since then, Patrick."
"What about Ricky?" Patrick tries. Nia scoffs sadly at the question. She shakes her head, her wavy locks linking with one another that will only make more snarls in her hair.

"What about him?" she asks almost rhetorically. Patrick doesn't know if he should answer, nor how to answer. He chews on his lip nervously, concentrating on his next choice of words.

"You two are married," he says, his voice low and soft as confusion rattles his conscience. "Does he know about Costello? Does he know about you being here? Does he even know about what we had?"

Panic rises in Patrick's chest, his questions only linking themselves together as they exit with his breath. Nia bows her head and fixates her eyes on the tile floor. Her brown hair covers her face. It reminds Patrick of the time the two were at the park, right after she had witnessed him and Tom fighting. Nia shakes her head, muttering a quiet "no" that Patrick can barely hear.

Patrick studies the woman before him, his brow furrowing in confusion. His hands fidget nervously, switching from wringing each other out to occasional picking at callouses. The table is quiet as he studies her. Nia heaves a sigh and cranes her head to look up at Patrick.

"You have to tell him everything," the blonde man says slowly. His throat closes around a lump, but he cant identify what emotion it is. For some reason he does not know, tears burn behind his eyes. Are they for him or for the man left with an empty house and unanswered questions?
"I'm scared to," Nia mumbles.
"He's a reasonable guy, I'm sure," Patrick tries to reason. "He may not understand, but... he'll respect your decisions, I'm sure."

The two lock eyes. Patrick instantly feels as if he had been ejected into the galaxies above his roof. The purple irises don't hold the same youth he remembers eight years ago. In fact, he notices fear, fatigue, and so much more in her now starless eyes.

"Will you go with me?" Nia asks, her voice sounding weak. Patrick realizes the toll this is taking on her. Without hesitation, he nods and grasps onto her hand.

"Of course," Patrick says as he gives her hand a small, gentle squeeze.

* * *

Patrick studies Nia as they sit in front of her now former home. He watches her try to calm her nerves to no avail. The woman grasps onto the handle of the door. She pauses, then looks back at her old friend and former lover. Patrick gives her a weak, but encouraging smile.

"You can do this," he says. "Get your stuff and I'll test the waters while you're busy."

Nia nods, pushes the door open, and continues her path towards the inevitable. Patrick follows in tow, his smile falling to a frown of concern and anxiety once Nia looks away. Nia raps her knuckles against the familiar door. She retracts her hand and bounces nervously on the balls of her feet. Minutes pass until the portal is opened, revealing Ricky on the other end.