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"How are things going over there, brother? Hope Father isn't being an ass?" Louis had asked that evening.
"Everything is fine. I just got home from work. I haven't visited Father since you left for France. When are you coming home?" I asked.
"Soon, Nick… very soon," he replied. I could hear the joy in his voice. And I was equally excited. I missed my brother and couldn't wait to see him.
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"If all goes as planned, I should touch down at Dulles tomorrow or the next day if my standby falls through. I think I've found a way for us to be free from Father's bondage," he disclosed.
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"I don't want to say much over the phone, but don't worry. I'll explain everything to you when I come home. Expect me soon," Louis assured.
"You sound too happy, Louis. Why do I feel that something other than coming home excites you?" I probed.
"You can tell?" he questioned.
"Of course! You are my brother," I stated. "Now! Tell me!"
"I found someone, Nick. I think I'm in love," he confessed. "She is perfect! And I think I will spend the rest of my life with her."
I was pretty shaken when he told me this.
"Hold your horses, brother. Love is a dangerous game!" I told him.
"She's different, Nickolai. I'm sure you will love her when you meet," he assured me.
I was down with whatever made my brother happy. He had sacrificed a whole lot for me. He deserved all the happiness he could get.
"I'm happy for you, Louis. Can’t wait to see you soon. Let me know when you land." I said.
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"Nick! Mre you okay: Nick! Nick!" Isabel bangs the door to the bathroom. 1ut I am too numb to say anything. I don't even know what to tell her. How do I tell her that her lover who never returned home is not only my brother but also dead:
How? Just how?
"Nick, please open this door," Isabel begs.
0eluctantly, I open the door and come out of the bathroom. "1abe, what's wrong:" Isabel asks, looking at me, scared and worried. "What happened:"
No words escape my mouth. I only present the picture in my hand to her. She looks back and forth between the image and me.
"Where did you get this:" she asks, taking the picture from my hand. Looking at it, she runs her Dngers through the picture before looking back at me. Her eyes are teary, and she seems nervous.
"Is2is this why you won't talk2 to me:" she asks, stuttering, searching my face for a response. She drops the picture on a table and walks closer to me as she takes my hands into hers. I am hesitant, so I pull away. Her face goes in a frown as she takes her hands back, folding her arms across her chest.
"Nick:" she stares at me for a while. "What is the matter: Is it the picture:"
I'm trying my best to make up words to say to her, but I'm too shocked to make any sense of what is happening right now.
Isabel steps back, running her Dnger through her hair in frustration.
"The picture is from a long time ago. M very long time ago, Nick. If that's what you're worried about," she explains, still frustrated and confused about why I haven't said anything. "If you must know," she continues. "That's Octavia's dad. He is not in the picture. Heck, he was never in the picture!" She begins to pace around the room, continuously running her hands through her hair.
"Listen to me, Nick!" she stops abruptly. "This has nothing to do with us. The man in the picture never cared about me; I was just a one-night stand to him. I was just too naive to reali5e that."
Wait, what?
