Page 52 of Marrying His Brother

He reaches for his glass, taking a slow sip before setting it down. “Can’t we just enjoy dinner first?”

“No,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “This isn’t a social call. I’m married to Andrew. You need to stop sending flowers, stop texting, and respect that.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Married,” he repeats, almost mocking. “To Andrew. And you’re telling me this like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You know that arrangement is just as much a business deal as ours was supposed to be.”

“Maybe it started that way,” I admit, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I am his wife now, and you have to respect that.”

He leans in, his eyes gleaming, and I catch the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. “You picked the wrong brother, Emily,” he says, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You know it, and I know it. You just got scared.”

I feel my stomach twist, but I hold his gaze. “I didn’t pick the wrong brother, Daniel. You called off our wedding. You made that decision, not me.”

“And I made a mistake,” he says, almost pleading now. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I realize that now. I was scared of committing to something I didn’t understand. But I know better now.”

I shake my head. “Daniel, this isn’t about being scared. We were never right for each other, and you know that. Our engagement was a business arrangement, just like my marriage to Andrew. But it’s different now. I’m with him, and I need you to let this go.”

He leans back, laughing softly, but there’s no humor in it. “You think it’s different? That you and Andrew have something real?” He shakes his head, his eyes darkening.

“You’re fooling yourself, Emily. He doesn’t care about you. All Andrew cares about is business.”

His words cut through me, sharp and deep, like a knife. I feel a pang in my chest, and it takes everything in me to keep my expression neutral, to not let him see how much that hurts. Because a part of me is terrified he might be right.

I want to believe that what Andrew and I have is different, that it’s more than just a business arrangement. But Daniel’s words worm their way into my head, stirring up doubts.

“Maybe so, but he’s my husband,” I say with a nonchalance that I don’t feel. The truth is that Andrew treats me with more kindness and consideration than Daniel ever did in the short time we were engaged.

Daniel’s face hardens, and he leans forward, his hands clenched on the table. “I’m not giving up on you. I don’t care if you’re married to Andrew. By the time your arrangement is over, I’ll have shown you that we could have something real, something better than this farce you’re living in.”

I want to laugh but it will infuriate him further. Daniel has rewritten history. He has put it into his head that we were a love match made in heaven.

The waiter arrives with the wine, pouring it into Daniel’s glass, and I take a sip of my water. Alcohol must be twisting the reality in Daniel’s. I need to be careful. I don’t want to be the reason he goes over the edge.

He’s Andrew’s brother after all. He’s family.

***

I walk through the front door, my mind still spinning from everything Daniel said. The house is quiet, and I head upstairs, slipping out of my dress and into a pair of comfortable leggings and a soft sweater.

I brush my hair out of my face, then wander over to the window, glancing outside. That’s when I see him.

Andrew is in the backyard with Bear and Bruno, tossing a ball for them to chase. The dogs are all over the place, tails wagging furiously, tongues hanging out, pure joy radiating from them. My heart lifts at the sight.

Andrew’s broad shoulders are relaxed, a rare sight lately, and there’s a smile on his lips as he watches the dogs bound around him.

I head downstairs, drawn to the sound of their laughter. The moment I step outside, Andrew glances up, and our eyes meet.

My heart skips a beat. He looks so handsome in shorts and a light sweater.

“Hey,” I say, stepping closer, feeling the cool evening breeze on my cheeks. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” he replies, tossing the ball again.

Bear leaps after it, Bruno hot on his heels. I stand beside Andrew, watching the dogs race across the yard. For a few minutes, we just stand there in comfortable silence.

I know I need to tell him about dinner, and my stomach twists at the thought, but I don’t want to keep anything from him.

“I had dinner with Daniel,” I say finally, my voice steady, even though my heart is hammering. “He asked me to meet him.”

Andrew doesn’t say anything but his body posture stiffens. He takes the ball from Bruno’s snout and tosses it again. “What did he want?”

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