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Prologue
Matt Winston fiddled with the card he’d just pulled from its envelope. Too many questions, triggered by the memories of the private school he’d attended for twelve years, popped into his mind.
“Stop rustling papers. You’re getting on my nerves with that shuffling noise.” His brother Royce set his cup of coffee on the kitchen island’s quartz counter and raised his eyes from his phone. “What’s that card anyway?”
“An invitation to a class reunion from Cincinnati Country School.”
“How come I didn’t get one?” Suddenly interested, Royce shoved his phone into his pocket.
“They’ve only invited five classes. You’re too young, baby brother.” Matt shrugged. “Besides, I’m not going.”
“Why not? All you do is spend long hours at the clinic and then come home and collapse onto your bed. Do you plan to live like a recluse for the rest of your life?”
“Enough,” Matt blurted. “I invited you here to share the condo, not to give me unsolicited advice.”
“Coping with your post-divorce nasty temper would have anyone else running away. Count your blessings. I’m a loving brother who’s stayed around to help you recover.”
“No, Royce, you’ve stayed because you were fed up with your uncomfortably small studio and couldn’t afford a bigger apartment. So shut up and mind your own business,” he ordered, not that the cold edge of his voice impressed his young brother in the least.
“Is that all the thanks I get for cheering you up with my jokes and losing my breath running with you in the park? Notwithstanding the fact that I have to listen to your frustrated curses while I’m trying to study.”
Royce was right. With too much stress at the hospital and a life devoid of any kind of fun, he wasn’t an easy roommate.
“Sorry, buddy, this invitation brought back unwelcome memories.”
“Why unwelcome? Keep the good and learn from the bad.”
Matt snorted. “Aren’t you the wise guy now?”
“Chill out, you idiot. I’m trying to be supportive. If I were you, I would swallow my misplaced pride, go to the reunion, meet old friends, chat and joke, and act as if you couldn’t care less about Cybil, your divorce, and her new marriage.”
“Jocelyn may be there.”
“Who the hell is Jocelyn?”
“Cybil’s cousin. She’s the one who introduced me to Cybil.”
“Ah, Cybil’s cousin, who may or may not be present, would intimidate you?”
“Not intimidate me, but gift me with an unneeded headache and ruin the evening.”
“Just ignore her. Or better yet, give her your most charming smile as if you couldn’t care less about her, or her cousin. That’s what I would do.”
“I’m sure you would. Maybe you would even make a pass at her.” Matt burst out laughing and Royce joined him.
“Maybe. Come on, Dr. Winston Jr., I would expect more guts from such a renowned surgeon. Damn it, go out, date, flirt, enjoy your life before you get old.”
“Do you really think I lack guts?”
Royce considered him and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Matt. You have plenty of guts, but you’re a nice guy. I think you suffered more than you want to admit it. You haven’t recovered from Cybil’s loss, right?”
“Wrong, baby brother. I exhaled with relief when she sent me the divorce papers. Our marriage had become a noose around my neck. Coping with her continuous whining, screaming, demands, whims … There was no way of pleasing her. The day I signed those papers, I toasted my recovered freedom. I even sent her a congratulation card for her wedding.”
“You didn’t?”
“Oh yeah, and I was sincere when I wished her happiness with the unlucky bastard who took my place.”
After her divorce, Cybil had married a wealthy businessman, fifteen years her senior. To start his new bachelorhood on the right foot, Matt had bought a modern, two-bedroom apartment in a high rise in Kenwood and invited Royce to live with him.
