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I snort, taking another swig of whiskey.
Burn sits across from me, nursing his own drink. The silence stretches, full of things unsaid. I clear my throat. "Talia wants me to forgive you. She's so fucking gracious that I want to shake her."
He flinches. "I don't deserve her forgiveness. Or yours."
"No. You don't." I take another swig of whiskey. "But she's carrying my heir. So for my daughter's sake...I'm willing to try."
Burn's eyes snap to mine, wide with surprise.
"A girl," he echoes faintly. He passes a hand over his face, looking suddenly weary. Older than his years. "Christ, Dare. I'm going to be an uncle."
"If I allow it." The words come out harsher than I intend, a reflexive response to the thought of Burn in my daughter's life. I sigh. "Talia wants her daughter to know the family. She's so anxious for everybody to get along."
"I understand." Burn stares into his glass. When he looks up again, his eyes are troubled. "Dare, I... what I did, taking Talia--"
"Don't." I cut him off with a sharp gesture. "I'm not ready to hear your apologies about that. Not yet."
He nods, accepting. "Will you ever be?"
I consider it. The tumbler is empty; I tilt it to catch the last drops. "I don't know," I say at last. "Maybe, in time. But first..." I meet his gaze, willing him to understand. "First you have to prove you've really changed."
Burn looks away. Takes a long swallow of whiskey. When he turns back, his jaw is set in a familiar stubborn line.
"I'll try my hardest to convince you I have."
The silence stretches between us, thick and cloying. I stare out at the swell and pitch of the sea beyond us, listening to the rhythm of Burn's breathing.
Finally, he speaks. "Dare, say something. Anything."
I turn to find him watching me with a mix of hope and apprehension. My brother, who was once my best friend. Now a stranger.
"Did you ever truly love her?" The question escapes before I can stop it. "Daisy, I mean. Or was it all just a game to you?"
Burn flinches. "I cared for Daisy," he says slowly. "As much as I was capable of, at the time. But you were right about her. About the type of woman she was." His mouth twists. "The type of man I was, to go along with her schemes."
"And now?" I press. "What type of man are you now?"
"I don't know." He smiles without humor. "Trying to be better, I suppose. The type of man who won't make the same mistakes."
I study him, searching for any sign of deceit. But his face is open, his tone sincere. Maybe - just maybe - he means it.
"Dare." Burn leans forward, hands clasped between his knees. "I know I have no right to ask this. Not after everything I've done. But I want us to be brothers again. To put the past behind us, once and for all."
His words awaken a yearning I've long tried to bury. A vision of two little boys racing along the beach, laughing in the sun. Before money and power and deceit came between us.
I clear my throat. "It won't be easy."
"I know."
"And if you betray me again - "
"I won't." Burn's eyes meet mine, hard as flint. "I swear to you, Dare, on our mother's grave. I will never betray you again."
The vow hits its mark. I feel the sharp ache of memory and it's not even touched by the burn of the whiskey I'm drinking. Our mother is the most sacred thing between the two of us lost souls.
If Burn's willing to swear on her memory...
I take a deep breath and extend my hand. "Brothers, then."
