soft, light, full of wonder and curiosity. But his latest additions felt…lost. Not empty, the way his music had been before the concert, but there was something about it that told Adam that Nik was suffering.
If only he’d talk to him.
He wanted to chalk it up to his dad slowly dying, and Van being away for it, but he wasn’t quite sure that was it. All the same, he did his best to be there—to show Nik he was in this, for better or worse. To live up to all those vows they might not ever have a chance to make, but that didn’t matter in the end.
Adam wanted to live them.
He felt a little better when his work hours picked up, but it was a busy Friday night when he got the call, Nik’s shaking voice on the other end of the line. “He’s dying.”
Adam froze at the desk, his hand reaching for the mouse to add in an appointment. “Nik…”
“He coded twice. He’s got a DNR, his heart restarted on its own, but they said…they said that could happen.”
Adam swallowed thickly, then looked up at the somewhat impatient woman who was tapping her long nails on the desk. He clicked the button to add her in, then scribbled her time on a card and shoved it at her, turning away without a proper thanks. “Let me grab Vince. I can…”
“No,” Nik told him with a heavy breath. “No, I…Van’s on his way.”
Adam knew he had no right to feel shut out and cut off. This was their dad, after all, but it felt like more than just Nik wanting to be alone. It felt like he was…taking a stand. “What can I do? What do you need?”
“Time,” Nik told him. “Space.”
Two words that felt like two gunshots to his gut. His hand trembled with its grip on the phone, but he nodded to himself. “Of course. Does Jay know?”
“He dropped me off here on his way to work. I told him I’d call him later.”
Adam knew in reality that there was nothing behind the fact that Nik had called Jay for the ride. After all, Adam had been swamped at work—and he needed the cash. But he couldn’t shake the feeling like more was coming.
“If you need anything,” he started again.
“We’ll talk later.” It was the coldest goodbye Nik had ever given him. And as the line went dead, Adam slid into his chair, feeling like he might pass out. It felt like a break-up. It felt like a real goodbye. Panic seized him, and before he did something stupid, like call Nik seventy times in a row to demand that Nik tell him they were fine, he stood up and yelled for Vincent. “I gotta take off for a bit. Nik’s dad just died.”
Vincent’s face fell. “Sure thing. You need me to reschedule anyone?”
Adam struggled to remember if he had appointments. “I’m…I don’t…”
“I’ve got it handled,” Vincent said, waving his hand. “Go.”
Adam nodded, then started walking. Not toward the doors, but around the corner to the skate shop where he saw Jay leaning against the counter, tapping away on his phone. Was he talking to Nik? Had Nik at least told him what was going on?
When Jay looked up, his face fell in surprise, and Adam realized he didn’t know yet. A small, pathetic comfort, but it was something.
“Nik called,” he managed to get out.
Jay came around the counter and dragged Adam into a hug. “When did he pass?”
“He’s not…his heart stopped and restarted a couple of times, I guess. Nik didn’t have a lot of info. He said it’ll be tonight though.” Adam dragged a hand down his face, then stepped away from the other man.
“Let me call Mikey and get him to take my shift. We can head over there and—”
Jay’s words died at the look on Adam’s face. “He told me not to come.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it rang out through the quiet of the empty shop. “He said he…he said he wanted space. I feel like such a selfish dickhead for being hurt, but…”
Jay gripped him by the shoulders. “It’s okay.”
Adam shook his head, and he was mortified when his words came out with a teary wobble. “Why doesn’t it feel like it is?”
Jay looked at him, his expression helpless, then he let go with one hand and pressed his phone to his ear. “I’m calling in the favor. When can you get here? Cool, see you then.” The