Chapter Eighteen: A Brother's Advice
I couldn't stop hearing her voice.
"Promise me we'll forget everything else. That you won't look for her."
Those words echoed in my chest like a bruise that wouldn't fade. I had promised. God, I had looked into Nina's trembling eyes and said I would let it go. But the ghost of her sister's name still clung to me like smoke I couldn't breathe through.
By the next evening, I knew I couldn't sit with it alone anymore. I needed to hear another voice, someone who wasn't trapped in this mess of half-truths and shadows. Someone who loved me enough to tell me I wasn't losing my mind.
So I called Henry.
We met at our usual bar, the one with scratched wooden tables and low amber lighting that made every glass of whiskey look like gold. Henry was already there when I walked in, leaning back in the booth with his drink in hand, phone face down on the table like he'd been waiting for me.
"You look like hell," he said when I slid into the booth across from him.
I huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh. "I feel worse."
He raised his brows but didn't push. That was Henry's way wait me out, let me come to the edge myself. He only leaned forward when the silence had stretched too long.
"Alright, man. What's going on?"
I wrapped my fingers around the glass in front of me, the condensation sticking to my skin. My throat felt dry before I'd even spoken. "It's Nina," I said finally.
Henry's eyes softened, but confusion flickered there too. "Nina," he repeated, dragging the name out like he was tasting it for hidden meaning. "Okay. What about her?"
I hesitated, because saying everything felt impossible, and saying nothing felt unbearable. I couldn't bring myself to tell him about Nora not yet. Even Henry, with his loyalty that had never once wavered, didn't know that name. Instead, I let the edges slip.
"She has… a past," I said slowly. "People, family things that keep bleeding into what we're trying to build. She doesn't want me to ask questions, but I can't stop thinking about them. And the more I push, the more I feel like I'm going to break something between us. I'm scared, Henry. Scared I'll hurt her, or that she'll end up hurting me if I find out too much."
Henry leaned back, his brows pulling together. He didn't say anything right away. Instead, he lifted his glass, took a long sip, and set it down with a soft thud. His hand went to his chest for a second, like he was steadying himself, before he finally spoke.
"Bro," he said quietly. "That's heavy."
"Yeah." My laugh came out bitter. "Tell me about it."
Henry studied me with that look he always had when he was trying to measure the weight of my words. For a moment, he didn't look like my best friend he looked like my brother. The one who'd pulled me through breakups, through late nights drowning in work, through every stupid mistake I'd made and lived to regret.
He leaned forward, his voice low but firm. "I'm gonna ask you one thing. Don't answer right away. Think about it."
I nodded, my stomach tightening.
"Do you love her?" Henry asked. His eyes locked on mine, unblinking. "And I don't mean the way people toss that word around. I mean… can you see yourself with Nina for the rest of your life? Can you spend forever with her, knowing she's not perfect, knowing she has scars you might never understand?"
The question lodged in my chest like a stone. My first instinct was to say yes without hesitation, but the silence stretched between us, forcing me to sit with it. Forcing me to sift through every moment with her the laughter, the fights, the way she kissed me like I was the only thing keeping her alive. The way her walls made me ache, but her love made me believe in something bigger than myself.
I thought about how much she terrified me, and how much I couldn't imagine breathing without her.
Finally, I exhaled, long and uneven. "Yes," I said, my voice breaking on the word. "Yes, Henry. I love her. More than you'll ever understand. More than I can put into words."
Henry's face softened, and for the first time all evening, he smiled. Not a smug smile, not the grin he wore when he was right about something. This was different. Sad, almost.
"Then listen to me," he said, his tone like steel wrapped in kindness. "Stop digging. Stop tearing at the seams of her past. If she's changed, if she's different now… then love the change. Love who she is today. Forget the ex. Forget the sister. Forget whatever ghosts are haunting her. They're not the woman you're holding now."
I swallowed, my throat tight.
Henry pressed on, his words steady. "You keep chasing the past, you'll lose her. And maybe she's scared, maybe she's hiding things but she's here, with you. If you want a future with Nina, focus on building it. Build something she doesn't have to be afraid of losing."
He leaned back then, lifting his glass again. "That's the best I've got for you, man. The rest is up to you."
I stared at him, the weight of his advice pressing down on me. Part of me wanted to believe him that letting go would be enough, that Nina's love could outshine every shadow trailing behind her. Another part of me knew that shadows don't vanish just because you close your eyes.
I lifted my glass, clinking it softly against his. "Thanks, Henry."
He gave me that steady look again. "Always, bro."
Later, when I finally lay in bed beside Nina, her head resting against my chest, I tried to repeat Henry's words like a mantra. Forget the ex. Forget the sister. Focus on now.
But even as I wrapped my arms around her, the ghost of her plea still haunted me. Promise me you won't look for her.
And in the quiet darkness, I realized: promises were easier to make than to keep.