Nico and Tallie were in love in the ’90s. Dave Matthews Band concerts, Lilith Fair, mixtapes. They threw a Y2K party together. Nico had played tennis in college, finishing seventh in collegiate rankings and reaching fortieth in the Association of Tennis Professionals rankings at one point. Tallie and Aisha went to his matches even long after college, when he wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, to drink icy gin and tonics while they—quiet, please—watched Nico sweat and grunt on the green clay. One night after one of those winning matches, they went out for more celebratory drinks, and Tallie had ended up in his bed again, although they didn’t have a name for what they were.
Three months later, Nico called to let her know—surprise!—he was engaged to his childhood sweetheart, Saskia. Saskia, the attorney. Saskia, her name like scissors slicking wrapping paper; Saskia, the sound one makes after chugging extra-bubbly pop. To her surprise, Tallie drank only a thimbleful of jealousy but had expected to feel more of it. Her strongest feeling was genuine happiness for him, and when he and Saskia got divorced, Tallie and Nico reconnected. But then there was Joel. When Tallie and Joel got serious, she began to feel for him the jealousy and territoriality she hadn’t felt for Nico. Joel inspired urgency. She got drunk quick on the liquor of those new-to-her emotions.
Over the past summer, she’d bumped into a bearded and single Nico at the gym she’d recently joined, and he asked if she was still married after glancing at her ringless left finger. He showed sweetness and sadness over her divorce. Made her laugh by reminding her that she said she’d never take his name and change hers to Tallie Tate if she married him because it sounded like a bratty children’s book character. She let Nico know everything about Joel’s affair because she couldn’t keep it in. In turn, he told her about Saskia having an early miscarriage and the guilt he felt at being relieved. Angry, Tallie spilled out her struggles with infertility to him for the first time. He apologized profusely, and she found it hard to stay mad at him. Nico was so familiar and safe, a true friend, a sort of accidental constant in her life somehow, even when they didn’t keep in touch. She didn’t know how it worked, but she knew it was a bit of magic. And she could trust Nico, the cool drink of water to put out her fires.
There were nights when she was feeling low and Nico could detect it in the atmosphere. Knew to bring her flowers or chocolate and wine. Food. He’d stop by her favorite noodle shop without asking, order the spicy pad kee mao with tofu and basil fried rice with shrimp. Calamari and dumplings. He was a proper, much-needed companion in those dizzying mushroom-cloud months after her divorce. She’d lost Joel—her husband, her lover, her partner, her friend, her company—the person she’d shared her entire life with. The person she’d slept next to and gone to the movies with. The person she’d told everything, the person who’d become a part of her family. The person she’d eaten dinner with every night and who went with her to the grocery store on Saturday afternoons. All the big and little things. The stupid, annoying things. The important things. Now she had to do them all alone.
But Nico had been there when she needed him, like a stashed first-aid kit.
Nico knew Tallie wasn’t ready for a real relationship or anything close to one. She was up front with him from the beginning, letting him know she hadn’t been with any man besides Joel in the past thirteen years. She told Nico that he was the last man she’d been with before Joel. She told Nico she was afraid she couldn’t even remember what it was like to be with any man besides Joel. Nico had said he’d help her remember. He’d said “good thing I’m not Joel” before kissing her mouth like he’d done when they were undergrads with spicy ramen breath and stinging eyes from staying up too late studying for finals. It was like a well-written short story: Nico had been an assistant to Tallie’s French professor, and Nico had also become her French tutor with benefits. Oui, they were adults now, with adult lives and the freedom and problems that came with, but. Part of him would always be College Nico.
College Nico in the emerald library light with his belle bouche and slow, stomach-swooping kisses. College Nico’s wide eyes when Tallie learned to translate and repeat his dirty talk. J’ai envie de te baiser. College Nico in a berry raglan sweatshirt, a pencil behind his ear; College Tallie turning into a soft candle watching him slip it there. College Nico in that fisherman’s cable-knit sweater heathered like static—the one she’d wanted to roll around like a dog on, cover herself with his scent. Espresso, peppermint, paper. Nico, je suis à toi.