Page 3 of Breathless With Her

“You know he hates the name Nicky,” I said, cringing.

“I think that’s pretty much why we all called him that. He was such a douche about it.”

“Well, that douche is now my husband,” I said, grinning this time.

Shawnie had the grace to look a little embarrassed, but he just shook his head, another smile spreading across his lips. “Oops.”

“Yeah, oops. But he’s still my Nicholas. I’m actually looking for him. Have you seen him around?”

“No, or I probably wouldn’t have called him a douche right to your face. Sorry about that, hon.”

“No worries.” Nicholas had been called that before, but he was still a sweet man. I was sure I’d been called worse over the years myself. Probably. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, the usual. Played ball in college, though I didn’t enter the draft like some people thought I would.” He shrugged, and I frowned.

“I wondered about that. I didn’t really follow everybody from high school. Too hard to do with the size of our class, but I did wonder.”

“Never really my thing. Oh, football was always my thing. But I was good. I wasn’t great.”

“That’s not what I remember.” I was pretty sure someone had mentioned that Shawnie’s running yards were still the record here.

“Well, I also wanted school to get my degree, start my own business. Then I met Tomi, and we had our three babies. I’d rather have that than just do okay in professional sports for a couple of years before my knees gave out.”

“You’re married? And you have babies?” I smiled widely. He sounded so proud of those babies and his wife. And when he talked ball, it was more like he was done with it rather than like he missed it. That was good. Holding onto the past wasn’t always the best thing.

“Tomi was the love of my life. Lost her two years back to cancer. But I have my baby girls, all three of them. And they are ridiculously cute. Here, I have photos.”

Shawnie didn’t give me time to offer condolences or even think about what to say in response to him losing his wife at such a young age. Even though he had been teasing about thinking my sister was hot, he was hurting, and I’d missed it. I didn’t know what to say, but I squeezed his arm, trying to give any form of comfort I could.

I didn’t know what I would do if I lost Nicholas and, honestly, I didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, I looked down at the three sweet faces grinning up from the photo and just smiled wide in turn. “Those are some adorable babies, Shawnie.”

“That’s all Tomi.”

“Hey, you’re not too ugly,” I teased. He threw back his head and laughed. “I’m sorry, Shawnie.” I whispered the words, and he just smiled at me, sadness in his gaze. But there was strength there, too.

“Thanks for that. Wish she was here so I could show her off to everybody. But life doesn’t always work the way you want it to. Anyway, I should get back, it was good to see you, Erin.”

“It was good to see you, too, Shawnie.”

“And if I see Nicky, I’ll send him your way.” He winked, and I pushed at his shoulder, waving him away as I turned to go look for my husband. I hadn’t seen him for at least thirty minutes, and it was starting to worry me. We weren’t always attached at the hip, but this was getting a little ridiculous. I pulled out my phone and texted him again, but there was no response. I called, no answer.

“Well, then,” I whispered.

I kept walking down the hallway and spotted the bathroom, figuring I might as well do my business while I was waiting and searching for my damn spouse.

As soon as I put my hand on the door, I heard something. I didn’t know what it was, but it felt off. I shrugged and pushed at the door and then froze at what I saw.

No, this wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t the end of a world, just the end ofmyworld. This wasn’t a horror show, it was just pure horror.

I wasn’t standing in gray-scale, trying to keep my feet on the ground as if I were flying. This wasn’t a dream.

This was real life. There was no going back from this point, no going anywhere except to watch exactly what was right in front of me.

Nicholas—Nicky—my husband, the man who had been in my life since we were ten. The one who had been part of my love life, myonlylove life, for so long. He had his pants around his ankles, his hands around the thighs of Becca, the head cheerleader, as he slid in and out of her. He grunted and panted, something he had never done with me. At least, not in years. He was always sweet with me, always gentle as if I were porcelain and he didn’t want to bruise me.

He was definitely going to leave bruises on Becca’s thighs.