83 Bronson

Pacing. It’s all I seem to do with myself now. I used to be a man that could handle any situation, any display of an unnatural order and I adjust, arrange, and move forward.

Until Nicole Myers walked into my life.

But for once, Nikki is not the reason for my absent mind, for my consistent pacing of my foyer as my eyes are glued to the elevator doors.

Last night, Nikki told me something that had me grabbing my phone and making calls the moment she went to sleep. She was righting her wrong, making good on her negative past. And if she could confront the man she took advantage of, then I could certainly call my older sister and speak to her.

If Clara was surprised to hear from me, she didn’t show it. We spoke for over an hour while I brushed Nikki’s hair with my palm as she laid her head against my chest. She was exhausted, after we had apologized to each other, we spent the next two hours decorating not only the tree, but the entire penthouse.