The words settle over me, heavy and comforting all at once.
"Alfie's still here," Nick continues. "In every piece of advice you remember. Every book he recommended that changed how you see the world. Every moment you stop and think 'what would Alfie say?' He's still teaching you. Still guiding you. Just from a different place."
I wipe my eyes and stand there in comfortable silence for a moment.
"Is Nate taking you to the airport?" Nick asks.
The question makes my chest tight. My breath catches.
"No. I was going to catch a taxi.”
His eyebrows rise. "Why?"
"Because I'm not sure where we are right now. Which feelslike a common theme for us, honestly. We're either everything or nothing, and right now..." I trail off. "I don't know what we are."
Nick studies me for a long moment.
"You know him better than most people ever will."
"I don't know about that."
"I do." His voice is firm. "Nate doesn't let people in, Nora. He's spent his whole life building walls to keep people at a safe distance. But you? You're the only one he's ever let see all of him. The good, the broken, the terrified, the hopeful. All of it."
"That doesn't change the fact that I hurt him, again." I say.
My throat burns with unshed tears.
"Another thing Alfie used to say was some connections are like rivers—they might change course, might disappear underground for a while, but they're always moving toward the same destination. The ocean. Home."
"I don't know if we can find our way back this time," I admit.
"Here's a question for you," Nick says. "And you don't have to answer it now. Just think about it." He pauses. "If you knew for certain that choosing Nate meant your career would suffer—that you'd have to make sacrifices, compromise, maybe even step away from some opportunities—would you still choose him?"
"I don't know," I whisper.
"And if you knew for certain that choosing your career meant losing Nate forever—no second chances, no maybes, just done—would you still get on that plane?"
The question lands like a punch to the gut.
"Life isn’t fair more often than not,” Nick says. "But those are the questions you need to answer before you can figure out what you actually want. Because right now, you're trying to keep all your options open. And sometimes, choosing everything means choosing nothing."
My chest feels like it's being crushed.
"Come on," Nick says after a moment. "Let me drive you to the airport."
"You don't have to?—"
"I want to." He starts walking toward the parking lot, and I fall into step beside him.
"Can we make one more stop?" I ask.
He nods without asking where.
Jake's grave is on the other side of the cemetery, under a large oak tree.
And there, placed carefully at the base of the headstone, are fresh sunflowers.
"Sunflowers were his favorite," I say softly, kneeling down to touch one of the petals. "He used to say they were the only flowers that looked happy."
