Chapter eight: the birthday party ii ( the cost of a name)
The Cost of a Name
I stood in that room like a man abandoned by gravity. Everyone still clapped, the surprise hanging in the air like confetti and perfume, but my world had shifted. My breath grew shallow, my throat tightening as I watched Nina storm out—elegant, furious, and wounded. I didn't follow immediately. My feet wouldn't move. My mind, instead, broke.
I stared at the half-empty champagne glass in my hand, and the trembling in my fingers gave me away. The room swam with colors, yet all I saw was her face—the sudden stillness in her eyes, the betrayal she wore like perfume, and the way her shoulders stiffened as I mentioned Nora. I wasn't prepared for that reaction. I thought I was doing something beautiful, meaningful. But I'd triggered something I didn't understand.
Disappointed? Absolutely. Confused? Even more. A sadness gripped me, not just for ruining a perfect evening, but for the deeper realization clawing through me—I didn't know Nina as well as I thought I did. Why did the mere mention of her sister's name tear her apart? Why would she walk away from a room filled with love just because Nora called?
I set the glass down with a hard thud and muttered, "Fuck this." Turning to Henry, I gripped his shoulder. "You're in charge, man. Nina and I—we're going out. Just the two of us. Make something up, will you?"
Henry blinked, surprised, but nodded. "You sure?"
"Dead sure. I can't let her walk away. Not tonight."
As I stepped into the hallway and hit the elevator button repeatedly like it could rewind time, adrenaline replaced the alcohol in my blood. When the doors parted and I rushed out into the hotel lobby, I saw her—gliding toward the exit, back turned, posture tense.
"Nina! Please wait!"
Heads turned. The receptionist looked up, startled. Guests paused mid-conversation. But I didn't care. I was chasing the love of my life. She didn't stop—of course she didn't—but I needed her to hear me, to know I was behind her.
Outside, the city air slapped my face with a coldness I didn't deserve. I found her standing by the car, her arms crossed over her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together. Her purse was missing. No car keys. Just her and the streetlights painting streaks of gold on her tear-stained cheeks.
"Nina," I said, breathless. And then, softer, as I stepped closer and saw her eyes—bloodshot, raw, like she'd been punched from the inside out—"Fuck. I fucked up again."
Her nose was red from crying, her mascara blurred into dark petals beneath her lashes, and her lipstick had faded into the corners of her mouth. She looked like pain made beautiful. My pain.
"What have I done?" I whispered, as I stepped closer. My voice cracked. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Nina."
She didn't answer immediately, just looked past me like she was waiting for the night to swallow her whole.
"I didn't know it would hurt if she called. I swear, I thought… I thought you two were okay. I wanted to surprise you. Make you happy. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose, right?"
And then she spoke.
"What were you thinking?"
The words cut through me like a blade, sharp and sudden. I hadn't expected her to answer—had expected her to shut me out completely like she sometimes did when things got too close. But this time was different. She wanted to let things out. And that terrified me.
"For all my life," she said, her voice shaking but steady, "it has always been about her. Nora. Even my parents made everything about her. Do you know what that does to someone? To always feel like the backup plan? To be the sister who smiles when she wants to scream?"
I swallowed, stunned.
"I just wanted to have my own life," she continued, "without her in it. And now here you are, messing it up. You've been all over me about her. Asking questions. Poking into places I've tried to seal shut. You say it's about love, but it's curiosity, Ethan. You just want to know what the mystery is. And look where it led us."
Her voice trembled at the edges, but her eyes were steel. Her hands gestured sharply, as if she were drawing boundaries in the air. I'd never seen her like this—exposed and fiery at once.
"I'm sorry," I said again, helpless. "My bad, Nina. Please just… listen. I don't want to lose you over this."
I stepped closer. "I don't know what happened between you and Nora, and maybe I never will. But I'm not trying to be part of that pain. I'm trying to build something with you. Look at all this—I planned it for you. To say thank you for choosing me. I want you. I love you."
She stared at me. The air between us tightened. And then—her eyebrows arched, and she looked straight into my soul.
"Do you truly love me, Ethan?"
The question came like thunder. My mind froze. Why is she asking me this? Did she think I was catching feelings for Nora? Hell no. Not even close. But I couldn't say that—not now. Not when everything was this fragile.
"I love you, Nina," I said firmly. "You shouldn't even be asking me that. I'm serious about us."
She studied me. Her shoulders softened just a bit, and her lips parted. There was belief in her eyes now—tiny, flickering, but there. I could see the wall begin to crack.
I leaned in, slowly, with reverence. I moved like she was a cathedral and I was unworthy of worship. Her breath danced against my cheek. I heard her heartbeat—it mirrored mine, loud and fast. My lips were inches from hers when she turned her head.
Not a rejection. Just… a pause.
"Me or Nora?" she whispered.
What the fuck? I screamed internally. But I didn't flinch.
"If you choose me," she said slowly, "you'll never bring her up again. I want a life without her. I need to know that the man I love isn't going to keep dragging back the one person who's haunted me for years."
I wanted to ask why? what happened? But I saw the plea in her eyes. The way one name had ruined the night. The way her tears clung to her lashes like tiny betrayals. I couldn't ask. Not now.
"You, Nina. You, my love," I said, pulling her hips toward me. "I'm choosing you. I won't bring her up again. Ever. I promise."
"I love you," I whispered, as I kissed her neck, my lips warm on her skin. She trembled beneath my touch. Her hands found my chest, not pushing me away—just grounding me. Her breathing deepened.
"Ethan," she moaned softly. Her voice was silk dipped in fire.
I couldn't stop. I didn't want to.
But then—"We're outside," she said gently, resting her hands on my chest.
I pulled back, sighing. "Fuck. I'm sorry. We really can't do this out here."
She smiled lightly, wiping under her eyes. "It's fine. But please don't tell me you're driving me home after all this."
"Oh shit," I muttered, suddenly remembering the party.
I turned and looked at her—really looked. Her makeup was smudged but stunning. Her dress clung to her like second skin. Her eyes, though tired, still gleamed with fire. A single tear sat on the edge of her eyeshadow, catching the light like a jewel. And then she smiled—sharp, small, sexy.
"Let's go join them, baby," I said, reaching for her hand.
"No running this time," she warned.
I laughed. "No, my love. No more running."
We walked back into the hall, hand in hand. Henry spotted us and grinned. "Oh wow! Ladies and gentlemen, the couple of the day has returned!"
The room burst into cheers and applause.
"Please continue," I called out.
Nina squeezed my hand. "Go catch up with your friends. I'll mingle a bit."
I didn't argue. I was swept up instantly by Henry and Jackson.
"Bro," Henry whispered, "you guys looked cold. Are you cool now?"
"Yeah. Just had to settle some stuff."
The party rolled on. Music. Drinks. Dancing. We greeted guests as they trickled out one by one, each hug and handshake blurring into the next.
Finally, when the room had emptied and the lights dimmed, I sat slouched on a bar stool, half-drunk, laughing with Henry and Jackson. That's when she appeared again.
Nina.
She wrapped her arms around me from behind, her lips brushing against my neck. A soft kiss. The kind that said I'm here again. My whole body reacted. I wasn't drunk anymore—not in the way that mattered. Her presence sobered me faster than ice water down my spine.
"Where are we sleeping tonight, my love?" she asked.
My love. She'd never called me that outside. Not in front of Henry. My heart did a full somersault.
"I—I booked a flat for the night," I stammered.
She smiled. "Can we go now? I'm kinda sleepy. And I need a shower."
"Ohh… me too. I need a shower," I said, already standing.
I turned to explain to Henry, but Nina tugged my arm. "Let's go. They'll take care of everything."
I looked back once—Henry gave me a salute, Jackson raised his glass.
And just like that, I walked out with the woman who broke me and saved me in the same night.