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Why is he here?
We didn’t invite him because I wanted to avoid this—this uncomfortable silence. Rory’s arm around me suddenly feels so wrong. I subtly shrug from his hold. He sighs, while Punky looks like he’s about to rip out Rory’s throat.
I can’t do anything right.
When a grin tugs at Darcy’s lips, I realize Punky is here because of her. She knew the scene it would cause. She knew how uncomfortable this would make me feel. She also wanted to reassert her claim over him, but there’s no need.
She’s won.
I’m so thankful she helped him because if it wasn’t for her, Punky would still be behind bars. But there is still some unspoken competition between us which makes no sense. When I “worked” for her family, she always made sure the line was drawn—I was beneath her.
Not that I could ever forget.
And now, ten years later, she still insists on hurting me.
She and Rory were once a thing, and I know he still harbors some sort of affection for her. It doesn’t bother me. I know it should, but it doesn’t, and that’s because I feel the same way about Punky.
Years of therapy have helped me “deal” with my love for him, but seeing him now, I realize I still love him and not how a sister should love her brother.
I’m sick, I know I am, but I can’t help it. I’ve tried so hard to stop feeling this way, but I just can’t. My love for him hasn’t changed, and that’s why I agreed to marry Rory. I thought if I attempted to live a “normal” life, these feelings would eventually fade.
But they haven’t. They’ve only grown.
Looking at him now, I feel complete. Something is always missing when he’s not around, but now, the noise…it’s silenced, and I feel whole again.
My therapist assures me this is normal, but nothing is normal about wanting your half-brother the way I want Punky. Something is very wrong with me.
Ashamed, my walls are erected, and I go on the defensive. “What are you doing here?”
Even I flinch at the harshness of my tone, but he can’t be here. I can’t do this. I can’t pretend Rory is the man I want to marry because Punky is the only person who can see through my lies. He will see how disgusting I am.
Rory makes me happy, and I do love him so much. But with him, I settled. I learned to love him. But he doesn’t give me the butterflies I get with Punky. Even now, just being in his presence robs me of air.
Falling in love with Punky was innate, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel that again.
“He’s my plus-one,” Darcy says smugly.
Punky is deadly quiet. I wonder what he’s thinking.
“Ach, I’m glad I could celebrate this happy occasion with youse,” he says, his gaze never wavering from mine.
He feels betrayed, I’m sure of it.
Before him stand the people he once called his family. But family don’t exclude one another, which is what we did to him.
“Can I speak with ye?” Rory asks, clearing his throat.
He’s avoided Punky, saying he needs time, but I know the real reason is that he wanted to avoid this confrontation. There’s no easy way to approach this. Even though Punky and I can never be, that doesn’t lessen the guilt we feel.
We bonded over our love for Punky, and that bond grew into something more.
Rory makes me happy, and I’m so glad he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. However, there’s always a but lingering, and I don’t know why.
Cian and Punky exchange a strange look. It’s gone a second later.
“Sure,” Punky says.
I step aside to let him pass, unable to face him as he leaves the room with Cian and my fiancé. Once he’s gone, I exhale softly, needing a minute to compose myself.
