Love Unwritten (Lakefront Billionaires, 2)

My workday is a busy one after the real estate search engine app I own and run, Dwelling, has a glitch and an investor causes some trouble, so I don’t get the chance to see Nico yet. By the time I wrap up for the night and exit my home office, he is already tucked into bed, and Ellie is nowhere near his room.

I linger outside his door while Ellie’s words from yesterday come back to haunt me.

If you have some time to spare, it wouldn’t hurt to practice with him too.

Before I have a chance to back down from the idea, I knock on Nico’s bedroom door.

“Ellie?”

With a tight ball in my throat, I turn the knob. “No. Soy yo.”

Nico’s smile dies. “Hola, Papi.”

Soy yo: It’s me.

Hola, Papi: Hi, Dad.

Pain hits me square in the chest at the sign of his disappointment, but I ignore it as I take a hesitant step inside. “Vine a decirte buenas noches.”

He tugs his comforter up to his chin. “Buenas noches.”

I take a seat on the edge of his bed, feeling more like a stranger than his father at the moment. “Do you want to read a story together before I head out to see Uncle Julian?”

“No,” Nico says with a rush.

The sharp sting of rejection doesn’t deter me from trying again. “Ellie told me it would be nice for me to practice my braille.”

A look of sheer panic flashes across his face. “Why?”

“Because I’m not very good?”

He releases a long breath. “Oh.”

I chalk his unusual reaction up to him being anxious about spending time around me.

I grab the book on his nightstand. “What do you say?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to practice with you.”

His whispered statement might as well have been shouted in my face.

“Nicolas…” I muster up some courage with a deep breath that makes my lungs ache. “Did I do something wrong?”

He stares at the book in my hands with a forlorn expression. “No.”

“Then why do you never want to read stories together anymore?”

Vine a decirte buenas noches: I came to tell you goodnight.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Buenas noches: Goodnight.

His lips press together.

“You don’t mind reading them with Ellie.”

His trembling chin makes my chest ache.

You’re just making everything worse.

With stiff muscles, I place the book back on the nightstand and kiss the top of his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll practice on my own and impress you with all my skills.”

He sinks deeper into the mattress. “I love you.”

The dull throb ebbs a bit. “Te quiero, mijo. Con todo mi corazón.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as I near the door.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Just know that I’m always here if you want to try reading together.” Rejection of any kind hurts, but there isn’t anything more painful than being on the receiving end of it from my son.

Your own kid doesn’t want you around, the sick voice of self-sabotage returns at full force.

Son. Husband. Father. My list of failures is growing, and I have no one to blame but myself. I’m the one who was too busy growing my company to pay attention to my wife, so she found someone who was willing to take my place. I hadn’t expected that filing for divorce would give my ex the green light to run off to Oregon with her new boyfriend and leave her responsibilities behind.

Her superhero-loving, music-aficionado, eight-year-old responsibility.

Te quiero, mijo. Con todo mi corazón: I love you, son. With all my heart.

Nico interrupts me in the middle of my downward spiral by asking, “Can you get Ellie before you leave?”

I pull on the doorknob with a death grip. “Of course.”

“I was surprised when you texted me yesterday about meeting up tonight.” My cousin, Julian, drops into the leather booth across from me, looking a bit haggard from a long day’s work at one of his construction sites. His black shirt is covered in sawdust flakes, and his cheeks remain permanently flushed after working under the early June sun.

We may not be brothers, but we could fool anyone into thinking we are with our similar brown eyes, dark hair, and strong jawlines inherited from our fathers.

While Julian tames his wavy strands by keeping them short, mine are longer and in desperate need of a cut—something he tells me every single time I see him.

“Do you own a brush?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Need help learning how to use it?”

I run my hands through my thick hair. “Your mom is cutting it tomorrow.”

“Good, because you’re a week away from entering man-bun territory.” He fakes a shudder.

“Like I would ever let it get that long.”

He spares me another look.

“Again,” I add. After I filed for divorce and found out about Nico’s degenerative eye condition, I didn’t do the best job of taking care of myself. I had too many issues on my mind to think about anything other than my failing marriage and distraught child, so my self-care fell to the wayside.

“While Ma is cutting your hair, Dahlia could come over and check out your closet. She’d love to help you pick out outfits for Hawaii too, if you let her.” Julian’s eyes brighten. He always gets that same goofy look on his face whenever he talks about his girlfriend and our family friend, Dahlia Muñoz.

Although I once gave him a hard time about staying away from her, my worries were unwarranted because my cousin has never been happier than he has been over the last nine months since he and Dahlia started dating.

Unlike me, Julian never jumped into bed with the wrong woman to fill an empty void. Instead, he was responsible and patient, while I was reckless and in desperate need of therapy. Heck, I still could use some, but I’ve put that personal journey on hold because I’m not ready to face my past. It was hard enough to discover why I clung to someone like Hillary in the first place, so I need some time to process my issues before resuming sessions.

Maybe even a few years.

I ignore the lump in my throat and ask, “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Sure, I used to put more effort into my appearance, but only because I cared too much about everyone else’s opinion. I wanted to be liked. To be desired.

Now, I just want to be left alone.

He gives my outfit a once-over. “Do you want my honest opinion?”

I really don’t, but that hasn’t stopped Julian from voicing it anyway on more than a few occasions. I’m not sure why my family cares about my clothes and appearance, but their worries are unjustified.

Just because I don’t dress to impress anymore doesn’t mean I’m spiraling.

At least not again.

He points at my flannel shirt. “Your attire could use an overhaul before your trip.”

“According to who?”

“Everybody who loves you.”

I roll my eyes. “You all are just being fussy because you have nothing better to do.”

“No. We fuss because we love you enough to see what you’re doing.”

I tense. “And what’s that?”

“Disguising your insecurities with ugly clothes, a disheveled appearance, and a personality rougher than extra-coarse sandpaper.”

“At least let me grab a beer first before you do a deep dive into my psychological issues.”

“Screw the beer. We’d need some hard liquor to get through all of those.”

“Pendejo,” I mutter.

“Cabeza dura.” Julian lets out a soft laugh as he raises his hand to get the bartender’s attention. Before I have a chance to pull out my wallet, my cousin opens a tab with his black card and orders us two beers from a brewery located a few towns over.

Pendejo: Dick

Cabeza dura: Hard-headed person

Julian crosses his arms over his chest, sending some sawdust flecks flying. “So, what’s the real reason you called me?”

“Do I need a reason to hang out with my cousin?”

His right brow arches suspiciously. “No, but lately you’re always looking for every excuse not to.”

The hole in my chest widens. “Sorry. Things have been…tough.”

Lately, I’ve found it easier to stay away from my family than answer their questions about my relationship with Nico. I know they come from a good place, and after spending the first decade of my life wishing for a family like them, I should be grateful for their love and attention, but it can be stifling at times.

Especially when it makes me feel like I’m not only failing Nico, but them too.

“What’s wrong?” Julian asks.

I take a deep breath and face my fear. “Nico and I are having problems.”

His eyes widen. “Really?”

I sigh. “Yes.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding Sundays at the Muñoz house?”

“Yup.” The Muñoz and Lopez families have spent every Sunday together ever since we were all kids, but I’ve done my best to avoid the family ritual lately by scheduling activities and playdates with Nico’s friends.

“What’s going on?” Julian asks.

“Nico’s been pulling away from me and acting strange, and I can’t figure out why.”

He strokes his chin. “When did all this start?”

“Right around the beginning of the new year.”

“So, around the same time his mother canceled her visit to town?”

I nod. “That and a few other things.” Like Nico insisting Ellie join us for our summer vacation while I thoroughly voiced my feelings against it.

“Have you asked him what’s wrong?”

“Of course I have.”

“And?”

“He shuts down and never wants to talk about it.”

“Sounds like his father.”

I glare.

He stares off into the distance while sipping his beer. “Have you thought about asking Ellie about it?”

“No.” The word comes out harsher than intended.

“Are you saying that no, you haven’t thought about it, or no, you’d rather be a stubborn ass and avoid asking for help at all costs?”

My molars smash together.

Julian’s head tilts. “So the latter, then. I thought as much.”

I hate how easily Julian reads me. After knowing him for most of my life, I’m used to it, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.

“I doubt she can help.” If anything, talking to her would make me feel like an even bigger failure.

He leans forward on his elbows. “Don’t tell me you’re too proud to ask her.”

“This has nothing to do with pride.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” To care about my pride would mean having some in the first place, and I lost that along with my self-esteem a long time ago.

He chuckles to himself. “For someone who is so goddamn smart, you can sure be a real dumbass sometimes.”

I raise my beer in a mock toast. “I can always count on you to lift me up.”

“We’ve always been straight shooters with one another, so I’m not going to start lying now to save you from hurt feelings.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean you need to go for the jugular.”

Julian’s lips curl at the corners. “I’m giving you a hard time because I care.”

“I know.” I would do the same for him, even if it made him angry at me for a day or two.

He takes a deep breath. “Deep down, you agree with me about talking to Ellie, even if you don’t want to.”

I drop my head back with a resigned sigh. “Yeah. I know.”