Chapter 24
ALEX
The Prophecy | Taylor Swift
Erik: We need to talk.
Alex: So ominous, little brother.
Alex: I’m in back to back meetings today, and I don’t know what time I’ll be home, but I have half an hour at 12 if you want to come to my office for lunch.
Alex: PS bring lunch
Most of the day passed in a blur of faces and numbers, so Alex had forgotten about Erik’s visit until he appeared at his office door holding two paper bags that smelled deliciously like Mexican food.
‘If there are enchiladas in there, you’ll be my favourite brother forever.’
His brother’s new office being walking distance from his own meant they had occasional lunches when Alex was on a run of too many late nights to commit to dinners. And since he’d secretly been giving what little of his nights remained to Sarah, most meetings with Erik had been relegated to daylight hours. But in contrast to his usually cheerful demeanour, Erik tossed a bag onto Alex’s desk and sat down looking stony-faced.
With his unique lack of preamble, the first words Erik said to him were, ‘Are you fucking Sarah?’
Alex almost choked on his mouthful of chicken and tortilla. When he’d swallowed, he said, the picture of calm, ‘What would make you ask that?’
‘Gee, was it the fact that your dog—who trusts pretty much no one except the two of us—looks at her like she’s the second coming, the way you two were eye-fucking each other all of Sunday night, the fact that apparently you call her Princess , or the fact that when I left for work this morning, she was wearing a charcoal jumper that looked an awful lot like one of yours?’
Well, shit.
That was where he’d forgotten it. She’d scrambled his brain so spectacularly he hadn’t even noticed it falling out his bag when he picked it up to leave.
‘ Alex. ’ Erik, who had an almost eerie ability to mask his emotions, either had no interest in doing it in that moment, or had lost control. He looked furious.
‘It’s a jumper, Erik. She could have bought the same one.’
‘And the rest?’
‘She’s been to my house, remember? Party planning? Celine’s met her. To your second point, she’s an attractive woman. I’m not going to hide that I think so. And I call her that to mess with her. That’s it.’ Alex shrugged, hoping it would hide his defensiveness. Weeks before, he’d told her that if this exact situation happened, he wouldn’t lie. But from the moment she’d opened up to him at the bar, let him see the soft, insecure parts she’d been trying so hard to hide, he’d been gone, doomed to do anything that would make her happy.
‘Okay, forget all that. So I didn’t see you pawing at her when we went to Neon?’ His brother’s grey eyes hardened into steel discs. ‘Really weird that you two disappeared around the same time that night too. Right after you told me you were taking someone home.’
‘What makes any of this your business?’ Alex winced internally at his outburst, knowing what Erik would read into it. A second later, his fears were confirmed.
‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ A deep sigh blew across the desk. ‘You promised Abby you wouldn’t fuck with any of her friends.’
‘That’s not exactly what I said.’
‘Alex, I realise this is your thing , but can you stop and think about other people’s feelings for one second? If you hurt her—’
‘And what makes you so sure I’m going to hurt her ?’ Alex thought back to her face when he’d asked her to dinner. The disappointment that had crushed his high after so completely letting go with her.
If Erik noticed the emphasis, he didn’t let on. ‘Because when have you ever taken anything seriously, Alex? Least of all your relationships with women.’
Alex leaned across the desk, even as Erik’s reaction pressed on a bruised part of his psyche that had been plaguing him for days. ‘You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, Erik. Three months of you spending the night occasionally doesn’t change the fact that you were barely in my life for almost a decade. And before that, you were too wrapped up in someone else to ever notice what I was going through. Don’t assume you know everything about me.’ He nodded to the door. ‘Thanks for the food. Get out.’
Ever thankful for his skills at compartmentalising, Alex managed to get through the rest of the day ignoring that he was pissed at his brother. But when he trudged through his front door a little after six—interdepartmental drinks meetups that he could abscond from came in clutch occasionally—and found Erik reading at his breakfast nook, it came flooding back.
‘I wasn’t expecting you to be here.’
‘I wanted to talk,’ Erik said, setting his book aside.
‘Yeah, that went really well for us earlier.’ He rummaged in the freezer until he found a portion of the lamb curry Maggie had cooked the previous week, and held it up for Erik, who shook his head.
‘Abby’s on her way. She’s bringing food.’
‘Great. Can’t wait to fight with both of you.’ As he spoke, he pulled a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard, poured two glasses, and pushed one towards Erik before opening a bottle of Abby’s favourite wine to let it breathe.
‘Actually’—Erik winced—‘I wanted to apologise. Upon reflection, I may have been a bit of an asshole earlier. I’m sorry.’
‘A bit?’
‘A lot,’ Erik conceded. ‘You know I have tunnel vision where Abby’s concerned. Everything in me is geared to protect her, to give her what she wants… And Sarah’s become my friend too. I don’t want to see her get hurt. But I shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have suggested you would. I definitely shouldn’t have doubled down on being a dick. You’re right. We’re so much closer now than we were as kids, I sometimes forget that less than a year ago, we were barely speaking.’
Of course he did. Because in the months since Erik had been back, he’d filled Alex in on every moment of his life that they’d been mostly out of touch, without realising that Alex was sharing significantly less.
Silence settled as they both drank. After another few minutes, where Alex volunteered nothing, Erik spoke again. ‘So are you two dating, or…’
‘Friends with benefits.’ Alex let loose a sharp laugh. ‘Or not, because according to her, we’re not even friends. It’s just sex.’
‘You don’t sound thrilled about that.’
One of the fun similarities of their brains was that Erik, like Alex, tended to hyper-focus. So while it was true that Erik could be switched off to what was going on with others when his mind was occupied, he became annoyingly observant when he dialled in.
‘It’s good sex.’ Alex shrugged. ‘She handcuffed me to her bed.’
Erik raised his eyebrows. ‘Kinky.’
‘Says you. You know the restraints hanging out the corners of your bed aren’t subtle, right? And for someone who hates plastic so much, you sure get a lot of packages from Containers Plus .’
‘Abby’s in a healing period. I’m helping.’ A grin spread across his brother’s face before suddenly dropping off. ‘And stop deflecting. Where does that leave you?’
A bitter smile stretched Alex’s lips when he recalled her reaction to his dinner invite. ‘Fucked. I’m f—’
‘I come bearing pizza,’ Abby said loudly, as she pushed into the room carrying a giant paper bag. After a surprisingly brief hello kiss to Erik, she set two pizza boxes down in the middle of the island and a foil tray that surely contained a family-sized lasagne in front of her fiancé, and asked, ‘What are we talking about?’
Alex raised his eyebrows at his brother. He was really supposed to believe he hadn’t told her? A quick shake of Erik’s head confirmed it, but a questioning look replaced his expression almost immediately. And admirable as it was that he hadn’t already spilled to the woman beside him, Alex knew it was only a matter of time. Furthermore, Alex lying to both of them was one thing. Expecting his brother to lie to his fiancée was quite another.
Alex nodded, one tiny jerk of his head.
‘We were talking about Sarah…’ Erik started slowly.
‘And how Alex is screwing her?’ Abby said brightly, pulling a few slices onto her plate. When he looked up in shock, she rolled her eyes. ‘I’m self-absorbed, not blind. You know she was wearing your jumper this morning?’
‘Why is everyone so hung up on the fucking jumper?’ Alex muttered.
‘I’ve lived with Sarah for seven years. I know every item in her wardrobe, and two hundred pounds of cashmere is definitely a new addition. Plus it’s the same one you gave Erik in blue.’
‘It’s cute that you still call it mine,’ Erik said, turning his head to kiss her hair.
‘I think we both agreed it looked better on me. But it’s only fun to wear if it belongs to you.’
Alex turned away from the look of sheer adoration they exchanged. For twenty-five years, he had managed to regard Abby and Erik’s codependency with everything from amusement to contempt to—at times—utter desolation. But since that lifelong pretence at friendship had finally given way to romance, he’d been experiencing something new: envy. Seeing them together was altogether less painful than watching them deny their feelings for each other, but a new pain came along with it. For the first time in his life, he had a front row seat to the peace and bliss that came from being part of a perfect pair. And he craved it.
‘Also, she gets really cagey any time I mention you, or ask about the guy she’s seeing. You’ve both become weirdly interested in where we’re sleeping at night. And I maaay have seen a text from you pop up when she gave me her phone to order food on Tuesday.’
Alex couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed, but he actually felt heat rise from his neck to his cheeks as he asked, ‘What, uh, did the text say?’ Tuesday, night of the voice note that had kept him company multiple times since, had seen the exchange of some particularly suggestive texts, and more than one photo he wouldn’t want the woman who for all intents and purposes was his sister to see.
‘You asked if she could come over after eleven. And there’s no innocent reason for that.’ Abby shrugged.
Alex exhaled a sigh of relief. It could have been so much worse. Sarah had said no to coming over—she’d needed to catch an early train the next morning so she could drop off Maurice’s portrait—but the conversation that followed had been significantly less innocent than his initial request.
‘You don’t mind that we’re sleeping together?’
‘Aleksander.’ He marvelled at the difference in hearing his full name from Abby versus Sarah. It was spoken in the same annoyingly patient tone, but where this one had his hackles rising, the other sent his body into sweet relaxation. ‘I’m a PhD student. Apart from the class I teach and my after-school tutoring sessions, my schedule is quite flexible. And even if it wasn’t, do you really think I couldn’t arrange flowers with a phone call? The invitations with a few emails?’
That was…the furthest thing from what he’d expected. ‘You were trying to set us up?’ he asked, at the same time Erik said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this?’
‘Oh, my love,’ she said, brushing Erik’s cheek, ‘you are the light of my life, but I couldn’t risk your abysmal lying skills ruining this if one of them caught on and asked you. As for you’—she turned back to Alex—‘my whole life, you’ve been the guy who’s always happy and bubbly and the life of the party. But since we’d been spending more time together, I noticed you didn’t really seem like yourself anymore.’
Because yeah, being the loud, upbeat party boy was what he was. What he had been almost since he hit puberty. Because when his parents had discovered his brother’s sensitivity issues, their house had become a quiet, tranquil haven, free of anything that could trigger panic in Erik. They hadn’t realised they were sending their other son, with his constant (though as yet unseen) need for stimulation, spiralling. So when the peace of his home made him slowly start crawling out of his skin, he’d found the excitement that he thrived on—that he’d needed in order to keep going—elsewhere. In house parties and booze and girls. As he’d grown older, he’d learned to manage things better, and the partying and drinking and screwing became less of a crutch and more a moderate indulgence. Then finally, the year before, that doctor had given it a name and a prescription, and the lifeline of meds that helped balance him enough that he didn’t need to seek constant thrills anymore. So he’d retreated from his old life: chasing fewer women, spending less time doing shots in clubs and more time slowly sipping whiskey or wine in an art gallery. And of course, he had shared none of that with the people in front of him.
He still had his occasional nights out with the work crowd out of necessity. His firm was a boys’ club, and drinking together was paying your dues. But he’d started slipping away earlier, and normally alone. The night he’d first met Sarah, he’d been ten minutes away from leaving. But after that kiss, all he’d wanted was more of the pretty girl in the purple dress.
‘And Sarah… She needed something to make her feel good this year,’ Abby continued. ‘You seemed interested in her that first time we had dinner. So I figured with a nudge, you two could help each other have some fun. Then she said she was seeing someone, and she braved Central to see them on a Friday night, which made me suspicious enough, but her not punching you in the throat when you called her Princess did slightly confirm things.’
‘What happened to not breaking any of your friends’ hearts?’ The comment that had made Sarah so set on secrecy.
‘Tell me it didn’t make you desperate to do exactly what I was asking you not to,’ she said, before stuffing half a slice of pizza into her mouth. After she swallowed, she continued, ‘Besides, it’s not like either of you are strangers to casual. It seemed safe enough.’
Alex looked away. Huffed. Rolled his jaw and tried not to think about how far from casual he’d strayed.
‘Oh. Oh, Alex.’ When he could bring himself to look up, he found her eyes wide and sympathetic as she read the torment on his face. ‘Have you told her?’
And try as he might to keep the bitterness from his voice, it bled into every word. ‘That would very much be breaking the limitations of our casual agreement not to catch feelings. And I certainly don’t want you mentioning it. Hell, I don’t even think she particularly likes me outside of sex.’
‘I don’t know about that.’ Abby’s words came slowly, her face screwed into a thoughtful expression. ‘These past few weeks, she’s been singing while she paints. She only does that when she’s really, really happy. I don’t even know if she’s realised she’s doing it. It’s been a long time. Has she spoken to you about her last relationship at all?’ Alex shook his head. ‘It was an ugly breakup. It left her and her confidence hurting for a long time, but lately… She’s almost back to her old self. I thought it was just because things were going so well with her art, but maybe it’s bigger than that. Maybe it’s this . You.’
It couldn’t be true. Letting himself believe he had that much impact on her happiness was far too dangerous. The weight of hoping would drag him under if it didn’t bear fruit soon.
‘I’m carrying a lot of this pep talk alone.’ Abby was somehow still talking. ‘Would you like to weigh in here?’ she asked, turning to Erik.
He looked up from his dinner, eyes drowsy. ‘You two are coming dangerously close to bonding. I thought I’d leave you to it.’
Alex scoffed. Abby pursed her lips as she turned back to him. ‘Like I said, she’s been hurt. If you want her to see you care about her, you’re going to have to show her it’s not just sex for you.’
‘I asked her to dinner, and she said it was a bad idea.’
There was that other thing. Another idea he’d had to show her what she meant to him, although it was as much for himself as it was for her. It was slightly crazy. Definitely dramatic. She would undoubtedly freak out. And he was desperate to do it anyway.
‘Of course she did. Dinner sounds like a date. She’s too easily spooked for that. Do something nice for her, obviously, but dress it up so she doesn’t realise,’ Abby said, as if it were simple.
‘How the hell am I supposed to do that?’ She’d always been infuriating, but to this extent?
But when she smiled, sharp and cunning, his annoyance relented slightly. ‘Isn’t it lucky you have her best friend in the whole world to help you?’