Page 89 of Beni

“Beni—”

Bene held up a hand, except really, it was just a single finger. The middle one. “No, it’s all right. I got it, Beni, no worries. You’ve made it really clear where you and I stand here.”

“Would you knock that off?”

“What, the fact that you’d rather bury yourself in new pussy instead of—”

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

He didn’t know why the suggestion that August was just pussy to him—something to fuck, and keep himself distracted—bothered him so much, and so quickly. Violently, even. Oh, sure, he’d had moments with his twin over the years where the two of them went to blows over something fucking stupid. That was typical boy nonsense. Average for brothers. And yet, he’d never wanted to really hurt Bene before, but he felt like he might right then.

And that scared him.

It was also a lie.

He knew exactly why Bene’s words bothered him. It reminded him of something his father had once told him about men and women, and it was a lesson he refused to forget. A woman’s worth should never be based on her behavior in the bedroom, but a man’s should always be determined by the way he treats her outside of it.

There had never been an act like a slut, be treated like a slut rule in the talks he had with his father and brothers as he grew up. Things like that, his father made clear, were just a way for men to shame women for the same shit men did all the time without consequence or thought to their own morals. Men didn’t get to expect more from women than they demanded from themselves. It was something that stuck with Beni.

It made sense.

He wasn’t an angel, God knew it, but he also didn’t speak with negative connotations toward women like his brother just did, either. But neither did Bene. That was the thing—his brother would never have done that before.

He took one step out of the apartment, but Bene stayed firm in his place. “Don’t you ever say something like that about her again, unless you want to bleed an apology for it. Do you fucking hear me?”

Bene flinched at Beni’s sharp warning. “It’s not her.”

“What?”

His twin’s gaze darted behind Beni, past the doorway to the beautiful woman who was likely still standing down the hallway, watching them. “Her—I swear this isn’t about her … I don’t even know her, but it’s an easy way to hurt you. She’s an easy way to hurt you, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m sorry it’s fucked me up. I’m sorry, Beni.”

Too little, too late.

That was all.

“Go home,” Beni snapped, stepping back into his apartment, and grabbing the door in his grip. “And figure your shit out because I’m not doing this with you anymore. I can’t do this with you.”

Not without hating you.

And he didn’t want to do that at all.

He got it now—what his uncle and father meant about the two of them really needing to spend some time apart, and figure out who they were without the other constantly at their side. His whole life had been defined by his brother. He didn’t feel like Beni without Bene. He used his twin as a way to distinguish who he was as in individual, and that wasn’t normal, or healthy.

Because he couldn’t be his own person when he depended on someone else to define who he was. It was only now … now, when he found a woman that he loved, who wanted him, and defined him as just him that it was becoming very clear his twin was still at that old place.

That them place.

Bene wasn’t him without Beni, but his twin had already figured out who he wanted to be without him at his side.

“Just work your shit out,” Beni muttered thickly, “please.”

Bene nodded. “Yeah, I hear you. I will.”

“Good.”

Beni slammed the door, but he didn’t move away from it. Behind him, August cleared her throat, and he swore he could feel the change in her mood and demeanor without even needing to see the expression on her face in that moment.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.