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I wasn’t sure how to phrase it to her other than, “Rule four: no bloody divorce. Rule forty–eight: love your wife above all else…after all, she is the one who can either keep you warm at night or make sure you never wake up. Rule forty-nine: never cheat. Affairs destroy the family. No face or body is worth it.”

“What? What are those rules?”

“The Callahan family rules,” I said, taking another bite of my food as she focused all her attention on me. “From my father, which came from his father and his father before him. Rules are very important to this family because they have kept us on top. We respect them. We acknowledge they may be contrary sometimes. However, the point is the same, take care of your family, your people, and do it while looking ungodly handsome. Something I was luckily blessed in spades with.”

“Wow….” She stretched out. “If your ego were food it could end world hunger twice over.”

Ignoring her, I went on. “Why do I treat you this way? Because this is how I’ve been taught to treat you.”

She frowned, inching closer to me until she rested her chin on my shoulder. “I feel like there is more.”

“Everyone feels like there is more,” I muttered, taking the glass of water, her eyes still on me. “But it is the truth. Would you prefer if I come up with something romantic?”

“Do you know how?”

I scowled at that. “Sorry, that was my father’s forte.”

“Your father?”

I nodded. “The man who loved his wife so dearly he’d nearly killed himself. My parents’ love affair was renowned and blinding for us growing up.”

“My parents loved each other too,” she said, but I didn’t think she understood.

“I’m sure. However, my parents were obsessed,” I told her, thinking back on it, though it was not hard to remember. “They were like two magnets. The minute one of them came into the room they automatically knew, and when they were close they were almost inseparable. They fought with each other physically and verbally just for the sole purpose of making up. If my mother went more than an hour without speaking with him she’d become irritated. My father refused to sleep until she came home. They walked at the same pace. Their eyes met at the same time. They even breathed evenly. I thought it was normal for the longest time, until I watched Toby’s parents get a divorce. I didn’t even really understand what that meant then. I thought it was maybe just them. But soon I came to realize that almost half of marriages failed and I was shocked. It was never in the realm of reality for our family.”

I hadn’t noticed I’d trailed off until she lifted her chin from my shoulder.

“Do you want a love like your parents’?”

“No.” I snickered, drinking, then remembered who I was speaking with. Of course she wasn’t pleased. “It sounds great to be loved like that. I’m sure it was great. Until my mother died. And, like you said, my father became a shell of the man he was. But that wasn’t even the worst. If he’d simply self-destructed I could have understood. Instead, he was…horrifying. He took out his anger on us, his children, like he blamed us for keeping him alive and not dying. He ripped us apart with vengeance. He sent Dona to a boarding school. And contently drove Wyatt and me against each other when we were together. And when I was with him, he’d blame me for defeating Wyatt. He’d ask me how I’d let my brother fail, meanwhile he’d asked me to make him fail. There was no peace. The day he died we all took a deep breath again. That is what his love did…and I want no part in it.”

“So never lov—”

“The point isn’t not to love…it’s not to obsess.”

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll let you know if you start obsessing over me.”

“I’m not the problem,” I said, grabbing my yogurt.

“Are you saying I am?”

“Have you seen me?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes and getting up. “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to marry your own reflection or something.”

“I tried. Apparently it’s not legal in the state of—”

“Oh my God, you are annoying!” she yelled and laughed, stomping over to the bathroom. Smirking, I didn’t move and kept eating.

“I do hope you know this story is not for free,” I called out, grabbing an apple as I rose to my feet.

“What?”

Walking toward the shower, I watched as she stood under the water and as it rolled off the curve of her breast.

“My eyes are up here.”

“I know where your eyes are. I wasn’t looking at them,” I said, taking a bite out of the fruit in my hand.

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