“Don’t.” Deep blue eyes plead with mine, “Talk to me instead.”
“It’s not a problem. I won’t let it be. I won’t waste my life like that. This I know about myself.”
She regards me with tear-soaked eyes. “Well, you may not need one, but thanks to your late-night run, I do.” She lifts the bottle from the table and unscrews it, taking a long drink before dipping to kiss me. I savor the taste of the alcohol, sucking on her tongue and earning a moan until she breaks the kiss. “Please talk to me. Tell me what hurts you so much.”
I nod, scraping my lips with my teeth.
“After I left you in that yard—the day Dom and Sean discovered us—I gave them a few hours to cool off a little before I went to them. A lot of hours, actually. I came back and paced your back yard. I heard you playing “Father Figure,” for me. It stung so fucking bad. I knew how hurt you were. I ended up going back to them before I came to you, and you know I never made it.”
“Why?”
“For the same reason I’m surrendering. I’ve made one too many bad decisions that put the people I love at risk. It’s made me paranoid, and sometimes I don’t know when my instincts are right, or it’s the paranoia. It’s getting harder to distinguish which. I really needed this fucking vacation.”
She nods and runs her fingers through my hair, waiting patiently for me to speak. I want to give this to her, and more than once, I’ve torn pages out of my journal recalling that night, but I could never get through it. I take another long pull of gin and set the bottle down, giving her my full attention as I relay every detail I can remember about that night, save the call from Antoine. She listens attentively, drawing closer to me with each word, her grip on me growing tighter, her eyes shining with empathy when I finish.
After a bout of silence, she situates herself on my lap so she’s fully facing me before she speaks. “You know a judge passes a sentence for crimes committed in order of the severity of the degree of the crime. How much time do you plan on serving, Tobias?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“No, it’s not, but do you think he would want you to live the rest of your life a slave to your guilt? Guilt for actions you regret with your whole heart and being? You know the answer. As hard as he was, that’s not Dominic’s heart. That’s not who he was at all. He was the same impenetrable man operating on love, a mirror image of you.” I bite my lip as she palms my jaw, forcing my eyes to hers.
“I’ve never felt like I just lost my brother, and I know that may seem weird. But I feel like…”
“You lost a son,” she whispers. “It’s not weird. You took on that role. You were both.”
I nod. “I know that love, Cecelia,” I confess, “a father’s love. For the most part, I was Dominic’s father, despite my title.” I shake my head, unable to see her now through my pain. “And the day before he died, I took the one thing he wanted most in the world away from him. He died in love with you. I thieved from him and broke his heart, his trust. What reason did he have not to step in front of those bullets?”
Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head furiously. “You can’t possibly think that. I know you can’t think that.”
“Maybe I do.”
“You’re lying to yourself, Tobias.” Her navy eyes demand mine. “Frères pour toujours.” Always brothers.
She repeats Dom’s last words to me, and she might as well have taken a sledgehammer to my chest. “You were the reason he took those bullets. He saved us both by saving you first.”
“Don’t,” I begin to come undone, the rawness in my chest burning my throat. When I lift the bottle, she takes it from me.
“Don’t do this to me,” I shake my head, “please.”