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"Anyway." He shakes his head, grimacing. "I convinced Evie to start therapy a few months ago, and it's helping a bit, but she has a long way to go. It hasn't been a cakewalk for her either."
I'm sure it hasn't, but the difference is that Evie loves medicine. I saw it in her eyes when we talked about her career. She's passionate about it, excited. Isobel looks like she's being marched to the gallows whenever it's brought up. "You both need to ease up on the medical school talk," I tell him warningly. "She doesn't want to go. Maybe if Evie talked to her-"
"How do you know that?" Asks Reuben sharply, his eyebrows knit together in surprised confusion.
My son is intelligent, but he couldn't pick up on a hint if it hit him in the face. "Shethrew upthe moment you mentioned it today, Reuben. We sat there reading for an hour. She was fine,happyeven."
He opens his mouth, looking guilty, but then the bartender appears to take our orders, and we both fall silent. The restaurant is packed, and when the man leaves to get our beers, I look around to make sure none of the Bradley family members have chosen this same spot for a late-night drink.
"Listen," Reuben cautions me quietly. "Don't rock the boat, Dad. I know there are a lot of fucked up dynamics at play, but Isobel is an adult. I'll tell Evie to speak with her, but that's all we can do. I know John and Caroline are-"
"Assholes?" I suggest a bit too loudly, and Reuben gives me an exasperated look.
"I was going to saylimited."
The bartender leaves two bottles before us, and I lean back on my stool, taking a long drink.
When Reuben continues, he looks weary. "Evie has a lot of guilt surrounding Isobel. She doesn't think she was a very good sister. It's a sensitive subject. There are things I'm not going to tell you because they're not my business, and I don't think Isobel would thank me for spreading it around, but for the love of god, please just keep all this to yourself. Don't confront the Bradleys."
His words have me curious as hell, but god, he's a good kid, a goodman. "They deserve to have someone call them on this."
"Maybe." He concedes. "But I would like to get through this week and marry the woman I lovewithouta shit-load of family drama. Can you help me with that?"
My stomach knots with guilt. I've been so preoccupied and worried about Isobel I haven't thought about the position I'd be putting Reuben in if I were to get involved in the dysfunctional mess that his future wife was born into. He's right, there's bound to be a lot I don't know, and while John and Caroline's treatment of their daughters makes me sick, it doesn't change the fact that it's none of my business.
Whatever attraction I feel for Isobel, I have no claim on her. She isn't mine to protect, to advocate for, or defend. I'm her sister's father-in-law.That's it.
I'm here for Reuben, to support him and see him get married.
"Okay." I hear myself agree quietly, even though it tears me apart. "I just-" I shake my head, my throat tightening as the words I want to say fall away. "Okay."
Reuben winces. "I don't want you to think I'm turning a blind eye or that I don't give a damn. This isn't the time to start working through this shit, and it's not my placeor yours. I'll talk to Evie, though, see if she can find a moment to talk to Isobel about medical school."
On the bar beside his hand, Reuben's phone chimes with a text notification, and he picks it up, frowning at the screen.
"Everything alright?"
He grimaces, thumbs already flying over the screen. "Evie is freaking out. Apparently, the lady coordinating the flowers from the mainland lost our order. She wants to get over to her shop before they close, but we're supposed to meet with the resort's kitchen manager about the food for the wedding."
"I'll go." I hear myself offer. I don't know the first thing about flowers, but knowing my future daughter-in-law, she'll have very clear instructions for me to follow. "To the florist, I mean. I'll sort it out while you two meet the kitchen manager."
His thumbs pause, and he frowns at me, "You're sure? I'm sure it'll take ages."
I snort, taking another sip of my beer. "What else do I have to do?"
Why the fuck do I instantly think of Issy naked beneath me when I say those words?
Reuben is apparently checking this solution with Evie because, after another few text exchanges, he nods at me. "Batter up. Thanks, Dad."
"No problem." I hold a hand up to signal the bartender for a check just as Reuben's phone chimes again, and he chuckles at whatever Evie says.
"She says she's asking Isobel to go too unless you'd rather I send Mom or Caroline to keep you company?" He grins, and I make a strained attempt at a casual laugh.
I can't think of any objection I could raise to this with Reuben, but I can't think of anything more dangerous than spending time alone with Isobel Bradley.
"Okay, so they're supposed to bewhiteorchids, not pink."
The woman across the counter stares at me, clearly bemused, and bites back in accented English. "The order said pink."
