The next morning, I woke up with a dull throb at the side of my head and the faint taste of champagne still lingering on my tongue. My eyelids felt heavy, and for a moment, I couldn't tell if it was sunlight or pain that was making me squint.
Last night's laughter flashed through my mind the music, the dancing, Nick's ridiculous moves, and Maxwell's amused face when he came to pick us up. I smiled weakly at the memory before dragging myself out of bed.
The scent of freshly baked pastries drifted into the room. Our chef, ever so punctual, was already at it. I wrapped a robe around myself and made my way to the dining room, hoping caffeine would bring me back to life.
Nick and Maxwell were already seated when I got there. Nick looked just as miserable as I felt, his head resting on his hand, eyes half-open, nursing a mug of coffee like it was medicine. Maxwell, on the other hand, looked irritatingly fresh, sitting there with a faint grin, flipping through his tablet.
"Well, look who's finally awake," he teased as I entered. "The queen of the dance floor."
I groaned softly and sank into the chair beside him. "Please don't remind me. My head still feels like it's hosting a drum concert."
Nick let out a low laugh, instantly regretting it as he winced. "Same here. I swear, I'm never touching champagne again."
Maxwell chuckled. "You both looked like you were auditioning for a comedy show last night. I should've recorded it."
Nick lifted his coffee cup with a mock glare. "Laugh all you want, Mr. Responsible. Some of us actually know how to have fun."
"Oh, I saw that," Maxwell replied, smirking. "Especially when you tried to teach Rose how to moonwalk and ended up stepping on someone's toes."
I couldn't help laughing, even though it hurt. "That someone was me, by the way."
Nick gave me a sheepish look. "Sorry again, partner in crime."
The chef brought in a tray of warm croissants, flaky and golden, alongside a spread of pastries, fruits, and hot chocolate. I bit into one and closed my eyes in bliss. "This," I mumbled with a mouthful, "is exactly what I needed."
Breakfast turned light and easy the three of us laughing, teasing, and reminiscing about the previous night. For a brief moment, it felt like family. No awkwardness, no distance. Just warmth.
Then, in the middle of it all, Nick set his cup down and said quietly, "I'll be leaving this evening."
Both Maxwell and I looked up.
"What?" I asked, startled.
He smiled faintly, though his eyes looked softer than usual. "I've decided to travel. Africa first. I don't know how long I'll be gone. Maybe a few months… maybe longer. I just need time to see the world, clear my head, start over."
I felt my chest tighten. "But… so soon?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I didn't plan on staying long anyway. This visit just reminded me how much I needed to move again."
Maxwell leaned back in his chair. "That's sudden."
Nick shrugged. "Life's short, cousin. Besides, you've got your hands full here." He gave me a knowing smile before turning back to Maxwell. "Just don't forget to actually live. You work too much."
Maxwell rolled his eyes. "I'll try to take advice from a man who still thinks a hangover is character development."
Nick laughed. "Touché."
They both smiled, but I could sense a heaviness beneath it that quiet kind of sadness that comes when you realize something is ending, even if it's just for a while.
After breakfast, Maxwell left for the office, promising to be back early to take Nick to the airport. The house grew quieter, the sun spilling lazily across the marble floors. I found Nick in the living room later, staring out the window with that faraway look he sometimes had.
"Mind if I join you?" I asked softly.
He smiled without turning. "You don't have to ask."
We sat there for a while, sipping juice and watching the gardener trim the roses outside. Then he sighed, setting his glass down. "You know, I didn't really plan on telling anyone this. But I think I should to you at least before I go."
I turned to him, sensing the shift in his tone. "You can tell me anything, Nick."
He took a deep breath, eyes fixed on the floor. "I'm gay....Nick knows though..but I haven't said it out loud to anyone"
I blinked, surprised but not shocked more like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place. "Oh," I said softly. "That… actually makes a lot of sense."
I thought back to yesterday, The salon, the colors, the nail polish.
"But that's not issue now ..."
He grew quiet again, then continued, "My dad found out a few weeks ago. My partner of seven years told him."
My heart sank. "He told him?"
Nick nodded, pain flickering across his face. "We'd been together a long time. I thought he loved me. Turns out, he'd been stealing from me. When I confronted him, he tried to blackmail me, he said he'd tell my father if I didn't pay him off. I thought it was a bluff. I didn't think he'd actually do it."
He swallowed hard. "But he did. And my father… disowned me. Said I was an embarrassment to the family name. I lost everything that day. My home, my relationship, my stepmother's respect. It felt like the ground disappeared beneath me."
I reached out, placing a hand over his. "Nick…"
He shook his head, blinking back tears but smiling faintly. "It's okay now. Coming here, being with you and Max, it reminded me that not all family leaves. I just needed to tell someone... to say it out loud."
I squeezed his hand. "You're brave, Nick. And you'll heal. You deserve to."
He laughed softly. "Thanks. And I'm sorry for barging in unannounced. I just didn't know where else to go."
I felt my throat tighten as tears welled up. "Don't apologize. You're family and always will be. And next time, don't vanish on us like you did after the wedding, you being here means a lot to Maxwell and I, Okay? Text me. Call me. Anything."
He smiled, eyes glistening. "Deal."
When Maxwell returned that evening, the atmosphere was bittersweet. I had already helped Nick pack, we all shared one last meal, and then drove him to the airport.
At the departure gate, he hugged Maxwell first, a long, firm hug that said everything words couldn't.
"Take care of her," Nick said quietly.
Maxwell smiled. "Always."
Then he turned to me. I didn't even let him speak , I just threw my arms around him. "Don't disappear again," I whispered.
He chuckled against my shoulder. "I won't. I promise."
When he finally walked toward the boarding gate, I felt something tug deep inside me that familiar ache of goodbyes.
On the drive home, Maxwell reached over and held my hand. Neither of us spoke, but the silence felt warm. Comforting.
Nick was gone, and somehow I feared the loneliness that would follow with his departure to Africa.