Tristan #3
“Some kids at school were teasing her about her lisp. She’s started to get shy around strangers, and I think part of the reason why is that she’s anxious about talking to them.
I’ve been trying to help her see that it doesn’t matter, that those other kids were just being jerks, but… she’s taking it hard.”
“Fuck.” Dominic scowls. “Kids can be such little shits. I hope you didn’t let them get away with that.”
“I didn’t. I talked to the school, and I think it’s been handled.
But the damage is done, you know?” Gabriel sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“I tried to talk to her about it, but I don’t know what to say that will stick.
I think… I think she’s getting to that age where she’s missing having a female figure around more and more.
And I don’t know how to fill that hole for her.
” His gaze flickers to each of us, a vulnerability in his eyes that we don’t often see.
Sympathy ripples through our small circle, and I offer a reassuring smile. “Gabe, you’re a damn good dad. Peyton’s lucky to have you.”
Reid chimes in, “You’re doing an incredible job, man. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
Gabriel manages a small appreciative smile, although I can tell he’s still in his head about it. “Thanks, guys.”
Beckett nods in agreement. “And who knows, maybe we’ll find some way to introduce a positive female influence into her life.”
Before Gabriel can fire back at him, I fix Beckett with a look. “And how’s your love life, Beck?”
“Oh.” Beckett grimaces, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “You know. Same old, same old.”
The rest of my brothers chuckle, exchanging knowing glances. Beckett is notorious for his revolving door of short-lived relationships. He’s never stayed with a girl for more than a few months, and whenever I see him with his latest thing, there’s never a spark between them.
“Actually,” Beckett continues, lifting his chin, “I’m done with dating.”
This is met with a chorus of groans and guffaws from the rest of us. Beckett has declared his retirement from dating more than once, and we all know how that usually turns out.
“Oh, please,” Reid mutters.
Dominic shakes his head, reaching for his drink. “I give it a month, tops.”
Beckett waves off the comment, but I can tell we’ve hit a bit of a sore spot—usually, he doesn’t mind the teasing, but it seems as though there’s a fresh wound we’re picking at.
I glance around, trying to come up with a change of subject.
I know better than to pry into Reid or Gabriel’s love lives.
Gabriel hasn’t dated since his wife Melanie’s death, and Reid hasn’t been in a relationship since things fell apart with his ex, Sienna.
Dominic, meanwhile, is the most closed off of all of us.
He’ll be there for anyone when they’re in need, but he never talks much about his personal life.
“Chloe used my money to buy a painting the other day,” I say, deciding that my own life is a better source of conversation. “I called the shop and ordered five from the artist. You guys should see my living room. It’s like an art gallery.”
“You’re letting her decorate?” Reid raises an eyebrow. Better than anyone else here, he knows how important it is to me to have control over my surroundings.
I shrug. “Figured I might as well. It’s her house too, at least for the next few years.”
Dominic exhales, shaking his head. “I can’t believe Dad put that shit in the will.”
“It’s fine,” I say with a shrug.
“I mean, not really,” he retorts. “It might be fine by you, but if he pulled that shit with me, I’d walk.”
“I know you would. But he didn’t pull that shit with you, did he? He knew us.”
He knew I’d be willing to do anything for the company.
“It just doesn’t seem right,” Dominic says. “Yanking you around—and Chloe too.”
“Ah, they’ll both be single again in three years,” Reid murmurs. “It’s not like they’re in prison.”
The reminder that there will be a built-in end date for my marriage makes me frown slightly. “That’s not the point. We can’t let the company fall into the wrong hands. Dad was clear about that.”
“Doesn’t mean he was right,” Dominic mutters, but he doesn’t press the issue.
“It’s just the way things work in our world,” Beckett says with a sage tone that only a youngest sibling can manage. “I mean, Mom and Dad had it the same way, didn’t they?”
Reid snorts. “If Mom had an out after three years, she definitely would’ve taken it. I don’t think their arrangement had the same option.”
His words make me wince. My parents’ marriage was arranged just like mine, a strategic business move, and I always thought it showed.
There was no real warmth in it that I could see, no overt demonstrations of love.
Just two people bound together by obligation to their family’s legacy, going through the motions until the end.
Chloe’s face flashes in my mind, and I think about the walls she’s been putting up lately, the way she pulls back even after intimate moments. I don’t know what to do with that.
Hell, I don’t know what to do with any of this.
I can’t tell if I’m looking forward to my wedding on Saturday or dreading it. Both, probably.
But as I glance around the room at my brothers, who continue to banter easily, I feel some relief at the realization that no matter what happens, I won’t be alone.