After freshening up and getting dressed, Patrick had agreed to taking Costello to the park. He decided he could use the fresh air to rid away what Nia wanted to forget so quickly. The young boy didn't mind the opportunity to miss school to play in the plastic and metal jungle gym nearby, but Patrick made it clear that it was "only for today and to not get too comfortable with playing hooky."

As expected, there weren't many people at the park Patrick had driven to. There were the occasional mom groups, a couple of dads sipping coffee whilst reading the sports section in the newspaper, and perhaps some high schoolers avoiding classes or grabbing lunch off campus. Early autumn claimed the friendly suburbs of Chicago, orange and red leaves slowly starting to claim their slumber on the concrete.

Patrick took on the responsibility of entertaining Costello by helping him cross the money bars every now and then. As the late day became mid-afternoon, the two had claimed a swing, Patrick pushing the boy as the chained seat swayed to and fro.

"Patrick?" Costello asks. Patrick glances down at his watch for a second, finding it to be almost one o'clock.

"What's up, buddy?" the man questions.
"How do you know Mommy?"

Patrick looks around the park, finding fewer families and more fitness groups, painters, and young lovers. He notices Costello slowing down his swinging tempo, despite his tiny, young legs. Patrick claims the swing beside him, gripping the chains as he gently sways in the suspended seat.

"We used to know each other when we were kids," Patrick states. His shoe starts to make a well in the wood chips below them as he watches the boy slow down to an almost equal pace. "We met when we were about your age, actually. She moved down the street from me and our moms told us to play together."

"Did she know Dadd— or, uh..." Costello hesitates at the foreignly familiar title. Patrick chuckles weakly at the boy.

"I don't think so," Patrick answers, pressing a smile for his son despite the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The two are silent. Patrick studies the boy that is consumed in thought, picking up certain features about him. He notices that Costello has his rather large ears— a feature he never embraced on himself, but adored on the child beside him.

"What's his name?" Costello asks. Patrick freezes at the question before willing himself to answer.

"I don't think that's my place to tell you, champ. Maybe when everything is settled or when you're a little older, we can tell you," the blond explains. To that, Costello nods.

"Patri— uh... Da..." Costello stammers. He looks down at his velcro Power Ranger shoes, a frustrated, confused blush claiming his face the same way it would claim his mother's. Something about that image alone makes Patrick's chest feel warm.

"You don't have to call me that, Costello," Patrick reassures. "I know it's kind of weird right now—"
"It's okay," he says. "I want to get used to it."

The gesture catches Patrick by surprise, but he allows the boy to try his best to step out of his comfort zone. He notices the child still fumble with the idea in his head, the title balancing on the tip of his tongue.

"Take your time, okay?" Patrick says as he runs a hand through the boy's wavy locks. "I don't expect you to be comfortable with this all in one day."

Costello nods.

"You can still ask me anything you're wondering about. Absolutely anything. I'm all ears."
"Why is the sky blue?" Costello tries. To that, Patrick chuckles.

"Because of the ocean," he answers.
"Me and Mommy used to go to the ocean before we moved. Have you ever lived by the ocean?"
"No," Patrick sighs with a slight frown. "But I did live near a lake. It's kind of like an ocean, but smaller."
"Is it the lake you and Mommy used to go to?" Costello asks.

Patrick looks over at the boy with slight shock, though an amused smirk claims his face.

"She told you about that?" Patrick scoffs. Costello nods with a smile.

"She told me that you and her used to go to the lake at night and she would look at the stars and planets. She said she would take me one day, but she's been busy with..." the boy trails off. The light in his eyes starts to diminish at the reminder of the false father. Patrick studies the boy, ready to come to his aid for anything that may happen next.

"Are they getting divorced?" Costello asks. Patrick bites on his lip nervously; he feels a pang in his chest at the thought of lying to his son again. He deserves the truth— and much more.

"I'm afraid so, bud," Patrick mumbles. Costello averts his attention back to his shoes and starts to sway gently in his swing.

"I kinda already knew," the child says. "They were always fighting."
"I'm sorry, Stello," Patrick sighs. Silence rests between them for a moment.

"When I was your age," Patrick begins, breaking the momentary quiet, "my parents divorced, too. Same with your mom's. I saw it coming, but it wasn't a rough transition. However, your mother had a really hard time because of her dad. I really hope that's not the case for you. Just because that man isn't your father doesn't mean he's the bad guy."

Costello nods again, understanding Patrick's message. Silence blankets over them again.

"Patrick?" Costello questions, looking up at the blond man again. "Can I ask you another question?"
"Sure," Patrick encourages with a weak smile.
"Do you like Mommy?" the boy asks.

The momentary smile immediately falls from Patrick's face, his face feeling warmer than usual at the question.

"I-I mean," he stammers, a flustered laugh escaping him. "Of course I do, silly. She's my friend—"
"No," Costello giggles. "Do you like like her?"

Patrick already knew what the boy meant, but he couldn't admit it to him. Something about it felt wrong, but there was never a day that went by where he wanted to scream that he loved Nia. He is just genuinely afraid that someone else will hear him— that Ricky will hear him.

"Alright, champ! Let's head home and get some lunch," Patrick says abruptly as he stands from the swing set. He takes Costello's hand, leading him in the direction of the parked car despite him begging for an answer from his previous question. He was almost convinced that Costello wouldn't let the subject go until they eventually got home to eat sandwiches.

As they finished their lunch, the locks on the door clicked, the wooden barrier opening and allowing a violet-eyed woman enter the apartment. Patrick watches her, his attention fixating on everything that is her— the way her hair sways to and fro, how her hands delicately place her keys on the end table by the door, the way her eyes flick up and catch a glimpse of her only child, instantly letting a smile blossom on her face.

Patrick did "like like" her, as Costello put it. He has always been in love with her, despite the sharpening eight-year distance between them.

"Hey, Little Dipper," Nia beams as she approaches the boy. She plants a kiss on his forehead. "How was your day?"
"Good," Costello chirps. "Patrick took me to the park today."
"Oh yeah?" Nia says. She looks up at the blond man, her smile weakening upon glance. Patrick's heart starts to plummet at the image. Confusion wants to claim his features, but he decides against it.

"Did you have fun?" Nia asks, her delicate hands running through the boy's wavy locks.

"Mm-hmm!" Costello answers with a mouthful of sandwich and an enthusiastic nod.

"After you finish eating, pack your bag. We're going home," Nia states.

Patrick feels himself grow wan at the announcement.

A/N:
Sorry this took so long! I've been HELLA busy! Things are starting to lighten up a bit so I hope to be able to continue with this very soon and finish it without it feeling rushed ♥️

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