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“They passed away two years ago, a few months apart. My dad went first. He and three of his buddies were at their favorite hangout in Manhattan, sitting on the street patio on a Saturday afternoon, watching a baseball game. Despite the barricades, a drunk driver plowed right through them—”
“Dear God.”
“Two of them died and two were severely injured, requiring long-term care. Dad didn’t make it. The thing is, my father was as strong as an ox. He was religious about what he ate and keeping fit. He had the wear and tear that comes with age, but nothing serious.” Sofia interlaces her fingers with mine. “After his death, my mom didn’t see the point in living without him.”
“Were they married a long time?”
“They were high school sweethearts.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It wasn’t a perfect marriage. Things got very ugly between them after my sister’s death. Dad accused Mom of being too lenient and gullible when it came to my sister’s lies and manipulation tactics. But they stuck it out. I believe deep down, despite it all, they genuinely loved each other.”
“Your mom died of a broken heart?”
I shake my head. “No, she forced God’s hand. She overdosed on sleeping pills and vodka.”
“Oh.”
What do you say to that?
Silence stretches between us.
“So, it’s just you and your brother?” Her words are coated with hesitation.
“It is.”
“What happened to cause a rift between you?”
My brows draw tight over my eyes. “Things between us were so bad, we didn’t cross paths during the year both our parents died other than at the funeral and the lawyer’s office for the reading of the will. I stayed in Long Island long enough to get our parents’ home ready for sale. Liam took care of selling it since I had to go back to the West Coast. The only communication between us was when he texted me to let me know the house sold and my half would be deposited into my account.”
“That’s heavy,” she says. “Even when we have bitter fights, Ciara and I always make up.”
“Certain things are forgivable. Others, aren’t.”
“Like what?”
I open and close my mouth like a fish. I do that a few times.
“Bryce, if it’s too difficult, you don’t have to…”
“I don’t talk about this. Ever. But you need to know.”
She nods.
“Liam is eight years my senior.” The words spill out. “We were too far apart to be best friends or even buddies. I was his little brother. For me, he was a mentor. I looked up to him. I respected him. He was my rock—the one person I could turn to at any time in my life. He admired the way I was willing to take big risks, since he’s risk avert. He became a prominent attorney, and eight years ago, he became a judge. He has a keen ability to see right through people. The man’s bullshit meter is eerily accurate. He’s not doing it for the money. He’s always been a smart investor.” My eyes flicker to the ceiling. Fuck, I hate reliving that part of my life. “When I got married for the third time, it was my last trip down the aisle. I thought I had found the perfect woman. I was so in love, I was willing to curb my workaholism so I could be at home at a normal time to be with my wife. Despite my best intentions, my business was exploding, thus requiring a lot of my time. By the end of our first year of marriage, I was spending more and more time at the Silicon Valley office…”
Realization sets in, and her eyes widen in shock. “Your wife and your brother?!”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit!” Her brows furrow. “How could they do that to you?”
“Sibyl was taking the bar exam as I was bi-coastal. Flying her back-and-forth was going to be suicidal on her study load, so she stayed in New York.”
“That makes sense.”
“We spoke twice a day to keep in touch. It wasn’t the same as being in the same city, but it’s not like I wasn’t making an effort.”
