Page 9 of Love Unwritten

This mini Lopez is going to be my downfall, because where Rafael is rough around the edges and keeps his heart locked behind a wall of ice, Nico wears it proudly on his sleeve for everyone to see.

I would do anything to protect it and him, even if it means making a promise about a secret that isn’t mine to keep in the first place.

CHAPTER THREE

Rafael

I hate having a nanny in my private space, interfering with my day-to-day life, but for Nico, I’m willing to do just about anything. While I could easily raise my son with my family’s help, Nico needs a motherly figure in his life.

He needs Ellie, as much as I hate to admit it.

I remind myself of just that as I lean against the wall across from my son’s bedroom door and stare at my Richard Mille watch, my annoyance growing by the second. The obnoxious diamonds lining the face glint as the small hand ticks toward the number ten.

Usually, I’m not a stickler for bedtimes, but lately, Nico has been acting crankier than usual, and I only have his blond-haired, curfew-breaking nanny to blame.

Her soft laugh carries through the door and down the hall, followed by Nico’s airy giggle soon after. That heartwarming sound coming from my son is the only reason I hired someone with no nannying experience and a penchant for driving me insane to begin with.

When Hillary left over two years ago after I filed for divorce, Nico started changing. His fluctuating mood and irritability, while understandable, were unbearable, especially when I felt responsible.

I’m the one who filed for divorce, and while Nico has never blamed me for his mom leaving, I can’t help assuming he does.

Our relationship only became more strained after he found out about his retinitis pigmentosa diagnosis eighteen months ago. Little by little, his condition became difficult to ignore as his eyesight worsened and he started pulling away from all the things he loved, like his friends, my family, music, and me.

Music was always Nico’s outlet, so in a desperate attempt to help him, I paid for music lessons at The Broken Chord almost a year ago. At first, Nico gave me a hard time about it. He was quiet and unmotivated to pick up an instrument, but with Ellie’s help, he slowly opened up again.

For a solid four months, it felt like Nico and I were finally in a good place together, but then we had another setback at the start of the year.

One that I haven’t been able to overcome, no matter how hard I try. Asking him what is wrong gets me nowhere, while giving into his wishes only eases the tension between us temporarily.

Sure, changing our summer trip destination from Europe to Hawaii like Nico wanted earned me a small smile and a whispered thank you from him, but Nico’s good mood didn’t last long.

At least not with me.

Ellie steals me away from my thoughts as she walks out of his bedroom and shuts the door softly behind her before slumping against it.

She unleashes a harsh sigh as her hazel eyes shut. Her long blond hair rests near her waistline, the color looking more silver than gold because of the moonlight streaming through the window.

I rarely get an opportunity to look at Ellie without her noticing. Usually, she catalogs my every glance, smile, and comment, making me feel like a research subject lately with that stupid smile tracker of hers. So rather than immediately making my presence known, I conduct a drawn-out assessment of my own.

Ellie isn’t one for colorful accessories or frilly, designer-labeled clothes like my cousin’s girlfriend of nine months, Dahlia Muñoz. Nor is she the type to keep up with the latest makeup trend or hairstyle like Lily, the other Muñoz sister. In fact, Ellie does a good job of keeping her personality hidden, dampening it with her limited range of black, white, and gray clothing. I’m surprised that she hasn’t dyed her blond hair to match the Edgy Barbie look she is going for, given how much she favors dark colors.

If it weren’t for the small, dainty tattoos scattered across her body, I’d consider her as interesting as a blank canvas.

Liar.

Fine. She is as interesting as a canvas solely painted with one color.

Black.

A deep, inky shade that matches the somber music she plays late at night when she thinks everyone is asleep. She doesn’t know that I listen from the shadows sometimes, but I find it hard to resist the pull I have toward her. Her music speaks to me in a way words never can, and I can’t help being drawn to her in that sense.

If it’s only about the music, how do you explain being drawn to her right now?

The thought has me snapping out of my daze, and a floorboard creaks beneath my boot as I step out of the dark corner.

Ellie’s eyes snap open. “Good God! How long have you been standing there?”

I keep my face expressionless despite my escalating heart rate. “Long enough to notice Nico was up past his bedtime.”