TEACH ME TO LOVE YOU (Loving My Stepbrother in Secret)

Three weeks into the holidays, I had a simple plan: double shifts at the eatery, save up for my final year, and never think about Henry again.

I had managed the last part for eleven days.

Tonight, I learned that heartbreak doesn't always cry quietly. Sometimes it orders another drink.

I sat at the bar of Velvet Eclipse with rain streaking the windows behind me and the bass rattling the glass in my hand. The club was packed. Neon light slid across the dance floor, over people laughing, kissing, shouting lyrics into each other's faces, all of them acting as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

I envied every single one of them.

"Another one," I told the bartender.

He glanced at my empty glass. "Miss, are you sure?"

"Did I stutter?"

He raised both hands and poured.

Eleven days ago, Henry had ended our one year together in the parking lot behind the faculty building. He didn't shout. He didn't cry. He said, "I'm sorry Bianca I think we should end it here," in the exact voice he used when he was late to pick me up, then walked back to his car and drove away.

Twelve months of my life, and he apologized for it like a missed call.

I had planned my entire final year around that man. Where we'd live after graduation. Whose parents we'd visit first. God, I was stupid.

I laughed under my breath, and the bartender gave me a strange look.

"Something funny?"

"No." I lifted the glass. "Just me."

The whiskey burned all the way down, and I welcomed it. At least this pain made sense.

My phone buzzed on the counter. Mary. Her fourth call.

Mary, my best friend since first year, had made me swear I wouldn't go out alone. I had sworn. Then I had lied.

I turned the phone face down and kept drinking until the edges of the room went soft. Good. That meant it was working.

Somewhere between the third drink and the fifth, I noticed him in the mirror behind the bottles. A man in a dark suit at the far end of the bar, perfectly still while the whole club moved around him. In front of him sat a glass of plain water. Every few minutes his phone lit up on the counter, and every time, he turned it face down without answering.

Who drinks water in a place like this?

Not my problem. I slid off my stool.

I needed noise. I needed music loud enough to drown out my own head. The dance floor swallowed me, and I closed my eyes and moved, and for the first time all night I stopped thinking. One song. Then another. Someone bumped into me and I laughed. Someone pressed a cup into my hand and I drank that too.

Maybe this was freedom. Maybe this was what broken people did: pretended so hard it started to look like healing.

Two men found me eventually. Normally, I would have walked away. Tonight I let one of them smile at me, and I smiled back, not because I wanted him, but because I didn't care.

Then his hand settled on my waist.

I pushed it off. "Don't."

"Relax."

He reached for me again. I stepped back. "I said don't touch me."

Louder this time. Heads turned.

He rolled his eyes. "You're being difficult for someone who's been drinking all night."

"And you're being stupid for someone who still has all his teeth."

His friend laughed. He didn't. His fingers closed around my wrist.

"She said no."

The voice came from behind me, low and unhurried.

The man from the end of the bar. Up close, he was taller than I'd thought, and a silver watch with a cracked face glinted at his wrist. He stood between me and the two men as if it cost him no effort at all.

"And who the hell are you?" the man snapped.

"Someone telling you to leave."

I almost laughed. My own personal bodyguard.

The two men looked at each other, then at him, then at the fact that he hadn't moved an inch. They decided I wasn't worth it and melted into the crowd.

I shoved the stranger's shoulder. "Nobody asked you to save me."

"You're drunk."

"Congratulations. You can see."

"You should go home."

"And you should mind your business."

His jaw tightened, barely. "They weren't going to let you have fun."

"I could have handled them."

He studied me for a long moment. "Could you?"

I hated that question. Mostly because I wasn't sure.

"Go away."

He didn't argue. He stepped aside, and I disappeared into the crowd without knowing his name or why he had bothered.

I told myself I didn't care. Tonight, I only wanted to forget.

The rest of the night came back in pieces.

The music stopping. A staff member announcing the club was closing, and me laughing because I thought it was a joke. Then my legs folding beneath me.

"Easy." A club attendant caught my arm. "Miss, you're not okay."

"I'm fine," I said, except the words came out in a slur I didn't recognize.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The air was cold enough to sting. And there, leaning against a black car at the curb, was the man in the dark suit.

"You're still here?"

"I am."

"Why?"

His eyes went to the attendant holding me upright. "She has no way home."

"Do you know where I live?"

"No."

"Then you're not much help."

The corner of his mouth moved. It was brief, almost invisible. "Where's your phone?"

I patted my dress. Nothing. I was so unstable

The attendant held out my handbag. The stranger took it before I could.

"Come on," he said.

I should have refused. If I'd been sober, I would have. But I wasn't, so I let him fold me into the passenger seat.

I don't remember much of the drive. City lights streaking across the window. My own reflection looking back at me, tired and unfamiliar. Why does losing one person make the whole world feel empty?

My eyes grew heavy.

For a moment, I thought I heard him say my name.

"Bianca."

I opened my eyes. "What?"

His gaze met mine in the rearview mirror. "Nothing."

Then everything went dark.

Warmth came first.

A soft bed. A quiet room. Sunlight pushing through heavy curtains. My head throbbed as if someone were using it as a drum.

Then memory crashed in. The club. The drinks. The men. The stranger.

Oh God.

I sat up too fast and instantly regretted it. I pressed my fingers to my temples. "Never drinking again."

"I've heard that before."

I froze.

He stood in the doorway, jacket gone, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow, the cracked silver watch catching the light. Without the suit he looked younger, maybe my age, maybe a few years older. Shadows sat under his eyes like he hadn't slept.

I scrambled backward until my spine hit the headboard. "Don't come any closer."

My voice came out weaker than I wanted.

He stopped at once.

I looked around the unfamiliar room: a wide bed, a wooden dresser, enormous windows. I was still in my dress. My shoes sat lined up neatly at the foot of the bed. On the nightstand, a glass of water and two tablets waited, as if someone had thought this through.

Panic climbed my chest anyway.

"Where am I?"

He slowly raised both hands. "You're safe."

"That's not what I asked."

"My house."

My heart nearly stopped. "Your house?"

I looked at the door. At him. Back at the door.

"You couldn't walk," he said, before I could speak. "I didn't know where you lived, and I wasn't going to leave you in a club with a stranger.

I grabbed the nearest pillow. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was all I had.

He noticed. To my surprise, he almost smiled. "That's probably not going to help."

"Don't test me."

"Fair enough."

There was something unnerving about how calm he was. He didn't step closer. He didn't even lower his hands.

"And where did you sleep?"

He pointed toward the hallway. Through the gap, I could see a couch downstairs with a blanket thrown over one arm.

That made me feel slightly better. Only slightly.

"You didn't touch me?"

"No."

No hesitation. I searched his face for a lie and couldn't find one.

"Okay,"

He nodded once, and the silence between us stretched, awkward and heavy.

"What's your name?"

"Terik."

"Just Terik?"

He gave a faint smile. "Is that not enough?"

"You brought me to your house while I was unconscious. I'm allowed to ask questions."

His eyebrows lifted. "I didn't kidnap you."

"I know."

"Good."

"Probably."

He laughed softly, a low, surprised sound, as though he hadn't laughed in a while.

I looked away. "I'm Bianca."

"I know."

My head snapped up. "How?"

"You said it several times last night."

Heat flooded my face. "What else did I say?"

His smile faded. "You talked about someone named Henry."

My stomach tightened. Of course I had. Even unconscious, I couldn't escape him.

"Forget it."

Terik didn't push. Most people would have demanded an explanation. He seemed content to let me keep mine.

Then another thought hit me. "My bag."

"On the dresser."

I crawled across the bed, grabbed it, and tore through it. Wallet. Keys. Lip balm. A crumpled receipt from the eatery.

No phone.

I checked the pockets again. Then the lining. Then I turned the whole bag upside down on the comforter.

"It was on the bar," I whispered. "I put it on the bar."

"Then we'll find it," Terik said quietly.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He glanced at the screen, and something in him changed. The calm cracked. His jaw locked, and his hand curled into a fist around the phone. I caught the name on the screen before he turned it face down.

Dad.

"Excuse me," he said, and walked out of the room.

I sat there with my bag in my lap, listening to his footsteps fade down the stairs.

I had known Terik for less than twelve hours. I had watched him stare down two drunk men without blinking.

But for the first time since I'd met him, he looked afraid.

Terik was gone for about six minutes. I sat on the edge of his bed with my handbag pressed against my stomach, listening to his voice drift up from downstairs: low, clipped, one-sided. Whoever was on the other end was doing most of the talking.

I couldn't make out the words. I only noticed that he hung up before the other person had finished.

When he came back, the crack I had seen in his face was gone, smoothed over so completely I almost believed I had imagined it. He had his car keys in his hand.

"Get your shoes," he said. "We're going back to the club."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know."

"Why would you-"

"Because you won't be able to think about anything else until you find it." He glanced at me. "Am I wrong?"

There was no arrogance in the offer, and no expectation that I owed him anything.

I put on my shoes and followed him downstairs.

His house was bigger than I had realized in my panic: polished floors, tall windows, a staircase that curved like something from a magazine. It was also strangely empty. No family photos on the walls. No clutter. Nothing to suggest anyone lived there except the blanket still folded over the arm of the couch.

The city looked like a different place in daylight. The streets that had throbbed with noise a few hours earlier were nearly deserted, the shops still shuttered, the roads shining under a pale sun after the rain.

I leaned my head against the window and tried not to think about everything inside that phone. Every photo. Every important message.

Mary. She had called me four times before I stopped answering. By now she would have called twenty more, and she would probably be planning her own revenge in the same breath.😹

Terik drove without asking questions.

"Thank you," I said eventually.

"For what?"

"Last night."

"You're welcome."

"I'm still not sure you're a good person," I added.

The corner of his mouth lifted. "That's fair."

"But you didn't have to help me."

"No."

"Then why did you?"

He kept his eyes on the road. "I don't know."

I turned to look at him. There was no heroic speech. No attempt to make himself sound noble.

Velvet Eclipse was shut when we arrived, the neon sign dark, the front doors chained. In daylight it looked smaller. Shabbier. Like a stage after the play.

My heart sank. "What if nobody's here?"

"Someone's here." Terik walked around the side of the building and knocked on a metal door.

It opened after a minute. A woman in a cleaning uniform squinted at us, then at me, and recognition flickered across her face.

"You were the lady from last night." Her voice softened. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

It was becoming my favorite lie.

I explained everything to her and pleaded if they was a chance they found any phone last night

The lady nodded

Okay " just wait here let me go and call the manager.

"He lives close," she said, then she walked out

when she came back. "He will be here in fifteen minutes."

We waited by the car. Terik leaned against it with his arms folded, completely at ease. I paced.

"You're wearing a hole in the pavement," he said.

You worry alot.

I glared at him. He didn't even try to hide his smile.

The manager arrived in twelve minutes, a heavyset man in his fifties with a ring of keys at his belt and the tired eyes of someone who had seen every kind of bad night. He listened to my story without interrupting.

"Phones go missing here every few weeks," he said. "Most end up in lost property."

Okay let's check

We went inside and the two lady brought out a bag and poured out some phones on the front table I glanced at all of them but I couldn't see my phone there.

"Mine isn't there,"

The lady gathered the phones back and put it inside the bag.

"Then let's look at the cameras." He unlocked the door. "Give me a few minutes to pull the footage."

Inside, the club was unrecognizable. Last night it had been a roaring, glittering animal. Now the lights were harsh and white, chairs were stacked on tables, and my footsteps echoed across the dance floor.

I checked the bar anyway. The stool where I had sat. The floor beneath it. The shelf under the counter.

Nothing.

Terik searched the lobe without being asked. When he finished, he came and sat across from me at one of the tables.

He looked tired

Bianca I don't think this phone is here or what do you think

I'm suggesting someone took it when I brought it out yesterday.

The manager's office was small and dim, lit mostly by a bank of security monitors. He motioned us in and leaned over a screen.

"Last night. Time stamp, twelve thirty-eight."

There I was on the grainy footage, alone at the bar with a glass in my hand. My phone lay face down beside it. I watched myself drink, and drink again, and slide off the stool at 12:43, leaving the phone behind.

For more than an hour, it sat there alone. Bartenders passed. Customers came and went. Nobody touched it.

Then, at 1:20, the crowd thinned.

A man in a grey shirt took the stool I had used. He ordered something and paid with a card. He glanced left, then right. His hand dropped to the counter and slid my phone into his pocket in one smooth movement, like he had done it a hundred times.

Then he looked up and stared straight into the camera.

He held the look for two seconds. Then he walked out.

"That's him," Terik said quietly.

I turned. "Who?"

"The one who grabbed your wrist."

My stomach turned over.

I looked at the frozen image again. The grey shirt. The jaw. The man who had told me to relax, who had smiled while I said no.

"I thought they left that night," Terik said, and for the first time, his voice sounded rough. "I was watching you on the dance floor. I didn't see him come back."

"It's not your fault."

"Still."

The manager rewound the footage and paused it on the stare.

"He paid for two drinks at 1:20 with a card," he said. "That gives the police a name. And he looked at the camera like he knew exactly where it was."

"Or like he wanted someone to see him," Terik murmured.

A chill crawled up my arms.

"I'm calling the station," the manager said. "It's theft, and I won't let it slide. An officer can come this afternoon, around two. They'll take your statement and collect the footage. I can't hand it to anyone else."

"I don't have a phone for them to call me," I said.

"Give them mine," Terik said.

I hesitated. He didn't press. He simply waited, and the manager wrote down the number.

That was how my phone stopped being a small problem and became a crime.

Back at the car, the sun had climbed higher. I felt wrung out, as if someone had squeezed every drop of energy from me.

"Do you mind," Terik said, "if I get you a new phone?"

I blinked. "What?"

"Just until you get yours back. You'll need to reach people."

"No."

"you don't have to.

"I don't take things from strangers."

"Strangers?" He raised an eyebrow. "you already knew me.

"No," I said again, softer this time. "Thank you. I'll sort myself out."

He studied me for a moment, then nodded and let it go.

He opened the driver's door, got in, and started the engine.

"Where should I drop you?"

I hesitated. I didn't know this man. I wasn't going to give him my address.

"The junction by the eatery on Harlow Street," I said. "That's close enough to my place.

He didn't ask why. He just nodded and drove.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but my mind was crowded: the phone, the police,

I watched the buildings slide past the window until the words came out on their own.

"I don't think I've ever told any stranger about myself. But I think I'm going to tell you."

Terik glanced at me. "About Henry?"

"Both," I said. "Him and me."

His eyes returned to the road. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I know." I sighed. "But I think I need to tell someone."

He stayed quiet. That made it easier to begin.

"I loved him," I said.

Not the kind of love where you simply enjoy someone's company. I had been invested completely. I didn't notice that my plans was already including him.

"We started dating in my first year at university. Now I'm in my third year. So it was almost three years."Although we separated for a Year but still came back together last year.

Almost three years. Saying it out loud made it sound even longer.

"I work during breaks and save whatever I can.

My dad already divorced my mum

And my mother lives abroad because of her job. She raised me alone.

A faint smile touched my lips. I can't even imagine 😭

The smile faded.

"Sometimes she sent me money anyway. And instead of spending it on myself, I gave some to Henry."

"You supported him?"

"A lot." I swallowed. "Maybe too much. If he needed money, I sent it. If he was short on something, I covered it. I never thought twice."

I looked out of the window.

"I thought that was what love meant. Sacrificing for each other. Standing by each other. Helping each other grow." I gave a short laugh. "Apparently I was the only one who got the assignment."

Terik's mouth twitched, but he didn't laugh.

"I caught him cheating for the first time after 5 months of us being together."

My fingers tightened together.

"I remember that day so clearly. The messages. The excuses. The way my whole body went cold when I understood what I was looking at."

"What did you do?"

"I told him I was done. I blocked him. I cried for days." My voice grew quieter. "Then he came begging."

Terik said nothing.

"He apologized. He swore it would never happen again. He said he was stupid and couldn't imagine losing me." I laughed bitterly. "And I believed him."

"Why?" Terik asked, quietly.

I looked at him. "Because I loved him."

The answer was simple. And embarrassing.

"I thought people made mistakes. I thought if someone truly regretted what they'd done, they deserved another chance. So after about a month, I forgave him."

The car stayed quiet.

"I thought we were okay again." My voice dropped. "Then I caught him a second time."

Terik's jaw tightened slightly.

This time, I hadn't cried. Maybe I had already cried enough.

"I confronted him in the parking lot behind the faculty building. Do you know what he said?"

He shook his head.

"He said if I didn't like it, I could leave. He said he didn't care anymore."

The words still hurt, even now. Even after I had convinced myself I was over him.

I stared at the road ahead. "Then he got in his car and drove away. That's how three years of relationship ended.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

I kept asking how I could have been so foolish."

I had given him my trust. My money. My time. My energy. And somehow I had still convinced myself it wasn't enough.

"So last night, I decided I wanted to forget everything. That's how I ended up at Velvet Eclipse." I rubbed my palms together. "I wanted music loud enough to drown out my thoughts. I wanted to drink until his name stopped hurting."

A small silence followed.

"Instead, I got drunk enough to lose my phone."

Terik let out a quiet breath. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything you went through." His voice was sincere. "You deserved better than that."

I looked away before he could see how much those words reached me.

"You seem like a good person," he added. "A good man will find you."

I almost laughed. "That's optimistic."

"Maybe."

I smiled faintly. "But thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there."

He gave a small nod. "You're welcome."

Neither of us noticed how far we had driven until something caught my attention.

"Wait." I sat up. "I think you already passed the junction."

He looked ahead. Then at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You should have told me earlier."

"I was busy talking."

He smiled slightly and turned the car around.

When we reached the junction, I pointed. "Here is fine."

He slowed, but he didn't stop. "Do you live far from here?"

"Not far."

"Then keep directing me."

I frowned. "I said you can drop me here."

"And I heard you. But I'm not leaving you to walk around alone when you're this tired."

He wasn't forceful. He was simply considerate.

I hesitated, then gave in. "Fine."

I directed him through the quieter streets, and a few minutes later, I pointed ahead. "That's my place."

Terik drove carefully and stopped near the entrance. I reached for the door.

"The officer is coming at two," he said. "I'll be there."

"So will I."

"Good."

I stepped out and turned back before closing the door. "Drive safely."

"I will."

I stood there as his car disappeared down the street. For some reason, I watched until I couldn't see it anymore.

Exhaustion hit the moment I stepped inside.

I dropped my handbag on the couch and sat down. The house was quiet.

I should have accepted Terik's offer.

The thought came so suddenly that I frowned. Why did I refuse? Maybe pride. Maybe I didn't want to owe him anything. Maybe, had I become this suspicious of kindness?

Either way, I would buy another phone. If the club recovered my old one, good. If not, I had survived worse.

I made a quick egg stew and ate it with the last of the rice, standing at the counter. Then I showered, let the warm water run over me, and tried not to think.

It was a little after twelve when I lay down.

I have to be at the club by two.

When I woke up

The light on the wall was orange, not white.

I stared at it for a long, confused moment. Then I stumbled into the living room the wall clock was showing

3:08 p.m.

"No. No, no, no."

Two o'clock had come and gone. The officer. The statement. All of it. And somewhere in the middle of that, I had also missed my shift at the eatery without a word to anyone.

I threw on a clean top, grabbed my bag, and ran out to flag down the first taxi I saw. When I got there

Velvet Eclipse looked half-asleep when I arrived, its doors open, a few staff moving chairs. The manager was behind the bar, counting bottles. He looked up, and his expression softened.

"Ah. You came."

"I'm so sorry," I said, breathless. "I fell asleep and -

"It's all right." He raised a hand. "Officer Marsh came at two. Your friend was here."

My stomach dropped. "Terik?"

"He waited nearly an hours before the officer arrived, and nearly another hour while they went through the footage." The manager shrugged. "He gave a witness statement. Everything he saw. The two men, the grabbing, all of it. He left around 3: o'clock

I stared at him. "Did he say anything?"

"He said to tell you not to worry about the time." A faint smile. "He said you probably needed the sleep."

My throat tightened in a way I didn't expect.

He had waited for hours for a stranger who never showed up. And he had left a message to make sure I didn't feel guilty.

The manager slid a folded slip across the bar. "Officer Marsh left this. A report number. They traced the card to a name, and they're following it up. But they still need your own statement."

"Where?"

"At the station, this week. Bring ID. They also need a working number to reach you.

Then I went home

That night I lay awake for a long time, wondering how many people had already called me.

The next morning, I prepared and headed to the phone shop before it opened.

It was the same shop where I had first registered my SIM. When the doors finally opened, I walked straight up to the nearest worker.

"Good morning."

"Good morning. How can we help?"

"I lost my phone. I need to recover my number and reactivate it on a new one."

His expression softened. "Do you have identification?"

"Yes.

"That helps."

I slid it across the counter

After waiting for an hour

I braced myself for a fee. So when he finally looked up and said, "All done," I blinked.

"That's all?"

"That's all."

"how much am I paying?"

"No." He smiled. "You already had a bad week."

I could have hugged him. "Thank you. Seriously."

"It's okay."

I had taken two steps from the counter when another problem hit me. I had my SIM. I had no phone.

I turned back. "Sorry. Can I ask one more favor?"

"Sure."

"Could I use your phone to check my account? I need to know if I can afford a new phone at the moment."

He handed it over without hesitation.

The balance wasn't much. Not enough for anything like the phone I had lost.

I pushed the thought away and chose the cheapest decent phone in the glass case. When the seller handed me the box, I stared at it. It was a sad little thing compared to my old one.

But at that moment, I didn't care. I needed something.

I opened the package, slid in my SIM, and waited. A few seconds later, the network bars appeared.

I exhaled in relief and handed the worker's phone back. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

I quickly made the payment .

I was halfway to the door when he called out.

"Wait."

I turned.

"Can I have your number?"

My first instinct was to say no. I didn't know him. After the last few days, I wasn't eager to give my number to anyone.

But he had helped me. He could have charged me. He could have refused to lend me his phone.

So I told him my name and gave him the number, reluctantly.

He saved it, smiling. "Thanks."

"Thank you too."

Then I walked out into the bright morning, holding my new phone like it might disappear again.

I had barely reached the sidewalk when it started to buzz.

The messages that had piled up while my line was dead came pouring in all at once, and the little screen couldn't keep up.

Mary: fifteen messages. The first few were worried. By the end, they were in capital letters.

BIANCA WHERE ARE YOU

Why aren't you picking up

I laughed out loud, then covered my mouth, because it was suddenly very close to crying

At least I could finally call my mother.

I walked slowly, enjoying the fresh morning air.

But I had to book a ride for me to get home

early and prepare for work since I wasn't able

to attend yesterday.

I quickly booked a cab back home

reaching home.