Chapter Text
5 years later
The café was one of those trendy places Agatha usually avoided—too bright, too modern, and full of overpriced coffee that tasted like guilt and missed deadlines. But Nicky had insisted they come here, claiming it had the best hot chocolate in the city. Agatha suspected he just liked the ridiculous whipped cream towers they plopped on top of the cups.
She sat at a corner table, stirring her coffee and watching as her eight-year-old son enthusiastically attacked his hot chocolate, a streak of whipped cream painting his upper lip like a sugary mustache.
“Careful, Nicky,” she warned. “You’re going to give yourself a sugar coma.”
He grinned, unrepentant. “You’re just mad because they don’t put whipped cream on coffee.”
“True,” Agatha admitted. “I’d riot if they tried.”
The sound of the café door opening barely registered until a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation.
“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite people in the world.”
Agatha didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
Rio Vidal swept into view, looking as effortlessly glamorous as ever in a casual blazer and sunglasses perched on top of her head. Agatha suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the dramatic entrance. Some things never changed.
“Mom!” Nicky cried, sliding off his chair and running to Rio, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree.
Rio caught him with ease, scooping him up into a hug. “There’s my little man! You keeping Mama in line?”
“I try,” Nicky said solemnly, though the mischievous twinkle in his eye betrayed him.
“Traitor,” Agatha muttered, though her lips twitched in amusement.
Rio set Nicky down and took the seat across from Agatha, her eyes scanning the table. “Let me guess—coffee for you, a sugar bomb for him.”
“You know us so well,” Agatha said dryly. “What brings you to our side of town, Vidal? Slumming it with us mere mortals?”
Rio smirked, stealing one of Nicky’s marshmallows. “I had a meeting nearby. Thought I’d swing by and say hi.”
“Ah, yes, the classic I was just in the neighborhood excuse,” Agatha replied. “How very subtle.”
“Subtlety is overrated,” Rio said, popping the marshmallow into her mouth. “So, how’s life? Still terrorizing your editor?”
“Always,” Agatha said with a mock salute. “And you? Still charming your way through Hollywood?”
“Charming, yes. Surviving the boardroom meetings with studio executives? Barely.”
Nicky, growing bored with their banter, tugged on Rio’s sleeve. “Mom, can we go to the park after this?”
“Which mom?” Rio and Agatha said in unison, both of them turning to Nicky with raised eyebrows.
He groaned. “You know what I mean.”
“I’m busy later,” Rio said apologetically, ruffling his hair. “But I’ll pick you up tomorrow for our museum date. That work?”
Nicky nodded, appeased, and returned to his hot chocolate.
Rio’s attention shifted back to Agatha, her expression softening. “How’ve you been, really?”
“Don’t do that,” Agatha said, pointing her coffee stirrer at Rio.
“Do what?”
“The thing where you look at me like I’m a fragile vase about to fall off a shelf.”
Rio raised an eyebrow. “If anything, you’re the vase that cracks the shelf on the way down.”
Agatha snorted, shaking her head. “And yet, you married me.”
“And divorced you,” Rio countered, though her tone was more teasing than cutting.
Agatha didn’t flinch, though the words settled between them like a pebble in a pond. It had been two years since the divorce, and they’d both gotten good at navigating the awkward spaces where their history collided with the present.
Their divorce hadn’t been dramatic—well maybe just a little. The slow steady pull of conflicting careers and the pressure of public scrutiny,emphasise on the last part. Rio’s skyrocketing fame meant endless film shoots, press tours, and photo ops while Agatha’s journalism career kept her chasing stories across the globe. Between their opposing schedules, missed dinners,and Nicky’s growing need for stability, something had to give.
“So,” Rio said, breaking the silence, “any new projects on the horizon?”
“Other than raising your chaos gremlin over there?” Agatha nodded toward Nicky, who was now stacking marshmallows into a precarious tower. “I’ve got a few irons in the fire. Nothing Oscar-worthy, though. You’ve got that market cornered.”
“Speaking of Oscars,” Rio said, leaning back in her chair, “did you hear I’m presenting this year?”
“Of course you are,” Agatha said, sipping her coffee. “You’re Hollywood’s favorite golden child.”
Rio’s smile faltered for a split second—so brief that anyone else would have missed it.
“Not quite,” she said, her tone quieter now. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Agatha frowned, setting her cup down. “Hey. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” Rio said quickly, waving it off. “Really.”
The air between them grew heavy, the easy banter slipping away like sand through a sieve.
“Look,” Agatha said finally, lowering her voice. “We’re both doing the best we can with this… whatever this is. But you know Nicky idolizes you, right? Whatever you think you’re not doing, he doesn’t see it that way. And neither do I.”
Rio blinked, caught off guard. “You’re… complimenting me?”
“Don’t get used to it,” Agatha said, her lips quirking up.
Rio smiled, a genuine one this time, and the tension between them eased.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
“Anytime,” Agatha replied, reaching for her cup again. “But if you ever try to steal my coffee, I’ll revoke it.”
“Noted,” Rio said with a laugh, raising her hands in mock surrender.
Nicky finished his hot chocolate with a loud slurp, oblivious to the moment that had passed between his parents.
“Mama, can we go now?” he asked, bouncing in his seat.
“Yes, we can,” Agatha said, standing and gathering their things. She looked at Rio. “You joining us, or do you have another meeting to charm your way through?”
Rio hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. “I’ll catch you both later. Don’t let him talk you into getting ice cream after this, or he’ll never sleep.”
“No promises,” Agatha said, smirking.
As they left the café, Rio watched them go, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. No matter how complicated things had gotten between them, one thing was certain—there would always be love. It was just packaged differently now.
And as she turned to leave, her phone buzzed with a reminder for her next meeting, but her thoughts lingered on Agatha and Nicky. For better or worse, they were her family, and nothing—could change that
______________
Rio was late. Of course, she was.
Agatha leaned against the doorframe of her brownstone, arms crossed and foot tapping against the tile. It was Nicky’s weekend with Rio, and, as usual, her ex-wife was running behind. She told herself she wasn’t annoyed—just concerned for their son’s schedule. Definitely not annoyed.
When Rio’s car finally pulled up, its glossy black exterior gleaming like it belonged on a red carpet rather than a neighborhood street, Agatha let out an exasperated sigh. Rio stepped out, sunglasses perched on her head and a leather jacket slung over her shoulder like she’d stepped out of a magazine shoot.
“Sorry,” Rio called, walking up the steps with her signature nonchalance. “Traffic was a nightmare.”
“Traffic, huh?” Agatha said, tilting her head. “Does traffic usually smell like expensive perfume and sound like paparazzi shutters?”
Rio smirked. “You caught me. I had a last-minute photo op. The things I do for the fans.”
“The fans,” Agatha repeated dryly. “Well, your biggest one has been ready for twenty minutes. He’s inside packing the eight hundred toys he insists on bringing every weekend.”
“Ah, the essentials,” Rio said. “Did you give him the speech about not bringing half the house?”
“Oh, I gave it,” Agatha said. “He ignored me. I figured I’d let you deal with it this time.”
“Fair enough,” Rio said, stepping inside.
The house still felt familiar to her, though it had been years since she’d lived there. The same cozy chaos greeted her—bookshelves overflowing, mismatched throw pillows, and the faint smell of cinnamon lingering from whatever Agatha had baked earlier.
“Nicky!” Rio called, leaning against the staircase railing. “Your chauffeur has arrived!”
Nicky came bounding down the stairs, backpack strapped to his back and a stuffed dragon clutched under one arm. “Mom!”
Rio crouched to catch him in a hug, grinning as he nearly tackled her. “There’s my little man. Ready for the weekend?”
“Yup!” Nicky said, pulling back. “Mama said I can’t bring all my Legos, but I brought the important ones.”
“Smart move,” Rio said, ruffling his hair. “You’re always thinking ahead.”
Agatha appeared in the doorway, arms crossed again. “If by ‘thinking ahead,’ you mean planning to leave a trail of Lego mines in your apartment, then yes. Genius.”
“I’ll survive,” Rio said with a shrug. “Though I might start wearing steel-toed boots at home.”
“Smart move,” Agatha quipped, mimicking her tone.
Rio shot her a look. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”
“It’s been said,” Agatha replied with a smirk.
Nicky tugged on Rio’s hand. “Can we go now, Mom? You promised we’d go to the science museum!”
“We’re going, we’re going,” Rio assured him, straightening up. She glanced at Agatha. “Anything else I need to know before we head out?”
“Just the usual,” Agatha said. “Feed him something that isn’t entirely sugar, make sure he brushes his teeth, and try not to lose him in a crowd.”
Rio gasped, clutching her chest theatrically. “You wound me. I’m a professional mom.”
“Professional at causing chaos, maybe,” Agatha shot back.
“Chaos is part of the charm,” Rio said with a wink. “Right, Nicky?”
“Right!” Nicky chimed in, giggling.
Agatha rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “Just text me when you get there, okay?”
“Will do, Mama Bear,” Rio said, ushering Nicky toward the door.
As they left, Agatha watched them go, her chest tightening in a way she hated to admit. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly—more like a longing for something she couldn’t quite name.
______________
Later that evening, Agatha found herself scrolling through Netflix, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and a glass of wine on the coffee table. The house felt too quiet without Nicky’s constant chatter, and the emptiness gnawed at her in ways she didn’t like to examine.
Her phone buzzed, breaking the silence.
Rio : Made it to the museum. Nicky’s already convinced he’s going to be a paleontologist.
Agatha smiled despite herself, typing a quick reply.
Agatha : Good luck surviving the dinosaur phase.
The response came almost immediately.
Rio : Surviving? I’m thriving. He said I’d be a great T-Rex because of my “big teeth.”
Agatha laughed, shaking her head. She could practically hear Rio’s smug tone through the screen.
Agatha : That checks out. T-Rexes were notoriously dramatic.
______________
At the museum, Nicky was unstoppable. He darted from exhibit to exhibit, peppering Rio with questions that ranged from adorable to mildly terrifying.
“If a T-Rex was alive today, could it eat a car?”
“Probably,” Rio said with a nod. “But only if it was really hungry.”
“What about a bus?”
“Definitely a bus.”
Nicky stared at her, wide-eyed. “That’s so cool.”
Rio chuckled, guiding him to the next display. “It is, isn’t it? Dinosaurs were basically the action heroes of their time.”
“Like you in that movie!” Nicky said, looking up at her.
Rio paused, then grinned. “Exactly like me. Minus the claws.”
They wandered through the rest of the exhibit, Nicky chattering nonstop and Rio answering with the patience of someone who had mastered the art of indulging a child’s curiosity.
But as they sat down for a quick snack break in the museum café, Nicky’s questions took a turn.
“Mom?” he said, looking up from his dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.
“What’s up, buddy?” Rio asked, sipping her coffee.
“Why don’t you and Mama live together anymore?”
Rio froze, the question hitting her harder than she expected. She set her coffee down, carefully placing the cup on the table. “That’s… a big question, kiddo.”
“But why?” Nicky pressed, his wide eyes filled with the kind of innocence only a five-year-old could muster.
“Well,” Rio began slowly, “sometimes grown-ups have to make hard decisions. Mama and I love you very much, but we decided we’re better as a team when we don’t live together.”
Nicky frowned. “But I want us to be together.”
“I know, bud,” Rio said, leaning closer. “And even though we don’t live together, we’re still a family. Mama and I both love you more than anything.”
“More than dinosaurs?” Nicky asked, his face scrunching up.
Rio smiled, ruffling his hair. “More than dinosaurs. Way more.”
Nicky seemed to consider this, then nodded. “Okay. But I still wish you were together.”
“Me too, kiddo,” Rio admitted quietly, though she wasn’t sure if she meant it.
______________
Back at Agatha’s house that sunday evening, Rio stood at the door while Nicky dashed upstairs to deposit his belongings in his room.
“How was the museum?” Agatha asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“A roaring success,” Rio said. “Pun intended.”
“Please tell me you didn’t let him climb on anything,” Agatha said.
“Of course not,” Rio replied, feigning offense. “I’m a responsible parent.”
“Debatable,” Agatha muttered, but her smirk softened the jab.
Rio leaned against the doorframe opposite her, their proximity a familiar mix of comfort and tension.
“Nicky asked me why we don’t live together anymore,” Rio said, her tone casual but her gaze searching.
Agatha’s eyebrows rose. “What did you tell him?”
“That we’re better as a team when we’re not under the same roof,” Rio said. “It seemed to satisfy him.”
Agatha nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “He’s been asking more questions lately. I think he’s starting to understand that things aren’t how they used to be.”
Rio’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Yeah. He’s a smart kid.”
“Too smart for his own good sometimes,” Agatha said, a faint smile playing on her lips.
The silence stretched between them, neither quite sure what to say next.
“Well,” Rio said finally, straightening up, “I should get going. Early call tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Agatha said, stepping aside to let her pass.
As Rio walked down the steps, Nicky’s voice called out from upstairs. “Mama! Mom forgot her sunglasses!”
Rio turned back, laughing. “He’s got the memory of an elephant.”
Agatha grabbed the sunglasses from the side table and handed them over. “He doesn’t miss much.”
Rio’s fingers brushed against hers as she took them, a fleeting touch that lingered longer than it should have.
“Thanks,” Rio said softly.
“Goodnight, Rio,” Agatha replied, her voice just as quiet.
As the door closed behind her, Agatha leaned against it, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
The past was a heavy thing, but sometimes, it felt closer than she wanted to admit.