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And there he is. Burn.
Scraping at the hull of our grandfather's prized mahogany speedboat, a tumbler of whiskey sweating in his other hand. The sharp tang of alcohol and burnt wood chips assaults my senses, dragging me back to our boyhood.
I clear my throat. Burn startles, the knife slipping. A bead of crimson wells on his thumb.
Our eyes lock. Blue on blue.
How many times did we stand like this as children, sizing each other up before launching into a fight?
Burn recovers first, wiping the blood on his trousers. "You came." His voice is rough, strained.
"You asked." The words taste bitter on my tongue. I promised Talia I'd make an effort, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten.
Or forgiven my selfish bastard of a brother.
Burn looks away, scanning the hull for imaginary imperfections. "I know I don't deserve it, after...everything. But Talia's right. It's time to bury the hatchet. If not for us, then for the baby."
The baby. My baby. I flex my hands, fighting the urge to clench them into fists. He has no right to claim any part of my child's life, not after what he did.
But Talia wants this. And I can deny her nothing.
I jerk my head toward the boathouse. "You have whiskey. I have time."
The corners of Burn's mouth twitch. Not quite a smile, but close enough.
He passes me the tumbler wordlessly. I take a swig, savoring the slow burn down my throat.
Maybe this is what it takes to move on. Whiskey and uneasy truces.
Burn carries the bottle out to the dock. It's the middle of the day but there is a definite chill once we take off our shoes, roll ourpant legs up, and sit on the dock's edge. I dangle my feet and stare out at the sea, the waves crashing against the shore in a steady, rhythmic beat.
It's been years since Burn and I have spoken like this. Since we've been brothers, instead of enemies. And even now, with Talia and the baby between us, it's hard to let go of the past. But I have totry. For the sake of my family.
"So, what now?" I ask, my voice gruff.
Burn takes a long sip of whiskey before answering. "I don't know. Maybe we could start by apologizing. Really apologizing."
I snort. "You think a simple sorry is going to make it all okay?"
Burn shakes his head, "No, but it's a start. Look, Dare, I know I messed up. I shouldn't have slept with Talia in the first place. And stealing Daisy... I shouldn't have hurt you like that. But you have to understand, it wasn't just about her. It was about me feeling like I could never measure upto you. Like I was always living in your shadow."
I stare at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. He looks back at me, his eyes clear and earnest. Maybe he's telling the truth. Maybe he's just trying to manipulate me again. But I can't keep living like this, always second-guessing myself and everything around me.
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that has happened between us. "I appreciate the apology, Burn. But there's more to it than that. You slept with Talia and now she's carrying your child."
"Yeah." My brother's gaze is on the horizon. "I think we both know that that baby isn't mine. Not really."
I blink at him, surprised. "I thought that you were going to be a complete prick about the baby."
He shrugs. "I'm full of surprises today."
We both fall silent. The constant slap of the water against the dock can't fill the air between us. I realize just now that I've been tensed for a fight between us that might or might not happen. Cracking my knuckles, I take a deep breath and blow it out, willing my muscles to relax.
"So, what's it like?" Burn's voice is low, hesitant.
I glance over at him, surprised. "What's what like?"
He shrugs, looking sheepish. "Being married. Being...in love."
