Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Cole
The meeting was a disaster.
My jaw tightens as I shut the door behind me, my laptop bag slung over one shoulder and a dull headache pulsing at my temples. The client—one of our biggest and most demanding—had been impossible. Miscommunication and unreasonable requests had turned what should have been a straightforward discussion into a nightmare. By the end, I had been biting my tongue so hard I was surprised it hadn't bled.
My plan had been to get home early, start dinner, and clear my head before Wendy arrived, but that is now completely blown out of the water. Instead, I'm late, frazzled and still simmering with frustration. I drop the bag in the corner of the kitchen, rolling up my sleeves as I reach for the fridge door. Dinner needs to be started, and fast, or I won't have anything to feed our girl.
My phone buzzes on the counter, the screen lighting up with a name that makes my already sour mood curdle even further.
Callum.
I groan. Of course. My brother's timing—as always—is bloody impeccable. Impeccably awful. For a moment I consider letting it go to voicemail, imagining the brief reprieve of not dealing with whatever drama Callum is stirring up. But experience tells me that ignoring my brother at this juncture will only mean more calls later. When I'm supposed to be spending time with Ethan and Wendy. And the last thing we need is Callum's presence—even if it is over the phone—during our date with Wendy.
With a resigned sigh, I hit the answer button and put the phone on speaker so I can continue prep for dinner.
"What do you want, Callum?"
"Nice to hear your voice too, big brother," Callum drawls, his voice laced with sarcasm and mockery. "How's the big-shot life treating you? Still lording it over us regular folks?"
I pinch the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath, trying to get a handle on my anger and frustration. "Can you do us both a favor please, and get to the point? I'm busy."
"Alright, alright," Callum huffs, the false camaraderie completely dropping away now. "I need a favor. Just a little one."
I snort, leaning back against the counter. "Let me guess. You need another loan. After not paying back the last one." What I don't say is that he never paid back the one before that, or before that either.
"It's not like that," Callum says quickly, the defensive edge in his tone giving him away. "I'm in a tight spot. You know how it is."
I roll my eyes, my lips thinning. "Oh, I know how it is. You screw around, make bad decisions, and then expect me to bail you out. What is it this time? Late on rent? Another one of your get-rich-quick schemes?"
There's a long pause, telling in its silence.
"Come on, Callum," I press, my voice hardening now. "You're a grown-ass man. When are you going to realize it's time to take responsibility for your life? I can't keep helping you out like this."
Callum's tone sharpens, defensive anger rising to the surface. "You don't get it. You never have. Not everyone gets the lucky breaks you did. Some of us have to struggle."
I laugh, the sound bitter and sharp. "Luck? Do you think I was handed this life, Callum? I worked my ass off for everything I have. Ethan and I had to put in the hours. For fuck's sake. We still do! Don't you dare act like I don't know what struggle looks like."
The argument spirals from there, our voices rising on both ends of the call. Years of frustration, resentment, and disappointment bubbles to the surface, our words cutting deeper with each exchange. I know I need to stop before we go to a place we can't come back from. My grip tightens on the counter as Callum's accusations poke at wounds I thought had long since healed.
Then there's the guilt. A quiet, unwelcome companion that slips in through the cracks. Callum already hates my guts, and he doesn't even know about Wendy yet. He has no idea that his ex-girlfriend is now something more to me and Ethan. And while Callum had been the one to throw away the precious being that is Wendy, it doesn't make my feelings any less complicated.
Finally, Callum's voice rises in one last insult before he hangs up, the line going dead with an abrupt finality. I stand there for a moment, the silence in the kitchen oppressive.
"That didn't sound like a fun conversation." Ethan's voice breaks through the tension in the room. I turn to see my husband leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his calm presence a balm against the storm still raging in my chest.
"It's my no-good baby brother asking for money," I say, my voice tight. "When is it ever fun?"
Ethan steps closer, resting a warm hand on my shoulder. "I came in during the end of that, so how much did he want this time?"
"I didn't even ask. I'm done being his ATM," I say bitterly. "And when I refused to give in, he brought out all the stops."
Ethan's hand squeezes gently. "You did the right thing, baby. You're not responsible for your brother's bad choices."
I let out a harsh laugh, the sound tinged with exhaustion. "Tell that to the guilt gnawing at me. And not just about saying no. About Wendy too. She deserves so much, but I'm not sure she deserves to be saddled with me and all the garbage that comes along with me."
Ethan shifts to stand directly in front of me, his steady gaze locking onto me. "Wendy deserves to be loved, respected and cherished. But baby, so do you. Now don't let that asshole ruin our good thing."
My breath catches for a moment at his words, the weight of it settling over me. Slowly, I nod, the tightness in my chest easing slightly. "Thanks, babe."
Ethan's lips curve into a small smile. "Anytime, handsome. Now go finish dinner while I grab a quick shower. I need to get the grime of the day off me. I'll pick up Wendy after."
I smirk, a flicker of amusement breaking through the tension still wrapped around my chest. "Make sure she brings the cat, will you? And an overnight bag?"
Ethan grins. "On it, husband-mine."
He gives me a quick, chaste kiss before disappearing down the hall. I take a deep breath and turn back to the kitchen. There's still a knot of anxiety in my chest, but it is smaller now, tempered by anticipation. Tonight, we'll take another step toward figuring out this beautiful, chaotic thing between the three of us.
It doesn't take long for Ethan to make his way back to the kitchen, and before I can protest he has a spoon from the drawer and is dipping it into the red sauce I'm busy with.
"Hmmm," he praises before leaning over to kiss me. "Delicious, as always. Need me to get anything while I'm out?"
At his words, I grab his waist and pull him closer to me, our bodies melding together in front of our large five burner stove. "Maybe get some ice cream? I don't think I'll have time to put anything together for dessert."
"You've got it, handsome," Ethan murmurs against my lips before delving his tongue into my mouth. By the time he's done, I'm breathless, and the red sauce is at risk of being burnt.
"Be back soon, baby," Ethan calls as he heads out the door, locking it behind him.