Page 85 of Marrying His Brother

“Alright, that’s enough, man. Come on, I’m getting you out of here.” Daniel gets up and pulls me to my feet.

I stumble, my legs shaky, the room spinning slightly, as Daniel grips my arm and he leads me out.

The night air is cool against my face, and as I half-collapse into the passenger seat, Daniel chuckles dryly. “Guess I’m driving.”

I sink back into the seat, the alcohol thick in my veins, the hurt buried somewhere I can’t reach for now. I close my eyes, letting the world blur around me, glad for the silence.

Chapter 36: Andrew

A shrill sound cuts through my pounding head, dragging me from a haze of deep sleep. My phone vibrates insistently on the nightstand, and with a groan, I reach out, squinting as the harsh light pierces my eyes.

“Damn it,” I mutter, memories of last night flashing by in snippets—the whiskey, the bitter words spilling from my mouth, Daniel seeing me unravelling.

My father’s voice crackles through the phone, jolting me further awake. “I heard Ace is gone?”

For a second, the words don’t land, then the reality crashes down, flooding me with that sick weight in my stomach.

“Yes,” I manage, voice raw. “He’s gone.”

A pause stretches between us. “Come by the house. We need to talk.”

I rub my face. “Yeah, I’ll stop by.”

I toss the phone aside, groaning as I sit up, my skull feeling like it’s trying to split itself open. The faint sounds of scratching at the door echo from the hallway.

Bruno and Bear are probably hungry and eager to start the day, blissfully unaware of the mess their human has made of his life.

I force myself up, dragging my feet over to the door. They rush past me, tails wagging, bouncing around my legs. I head downstairs to the kitchen, grab their bowls and fill them with food. After they’ve eaten their fill, Iopen the backdoor, letting them bound out into the morning sun – all of it on autopilot.

I make my way to the shower. The cold spray hits like needles, and for a second, it’s torture. But slowly, it works. The fog in my mind lifts a little, though it doesn’t wash away the regret coiled inside me.

Why the fuck did I drink so much last night? It solved fuck all.

I grip the sides of the shower, remembering the words I threw around last night, my anger unraveling like a thread I’d lost control over.

After dressing and grabbing my keys, I head out, steering toward my parents’ house in a fog that’s half hangover, half emotional numbness.

I feel like an old man as I park my car and amble to the front door. My mother greets me at the door, her face drawn and eyes rimmed with red.

She gives me a quiet hug, and together we walk into the living room where my father is waiting, seated with his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

I take a seat across from them, the silence heavy and expectant. My mother’s gaze searches my face. I know they have as many questions as I did.

“So, what happened?” my father finally prompts, his voice low and serious.

I swallow, and the words spill out—how Emily’s father had been in a coma all this time, how she’d kept it from me, from everyone, pretending he was simply off traveling.

I lay it all out, every lie, every moment of deception.

My father nods slowly, absorbing it all, and then he speaks with that familiar, pragmatic tone. “Well, this doesn’t change anything as far as our partnership is concerned.”

I nod, relief that we’re talking business. I’m too drained for anything else. “I agree,” I say.

My mother breaks in, her voice trembling. “But why didn’t Emily tell us? Tell you, Andrew? You’re her husband.”

“I’ve been asking myself that question since yesterday,” I say, the anger a dull ache now.

My father sighs, looking as if he’s working through a puzzle. “Maybe she was worried about how it would impact the company’s reputation. I imagine keeping it quiet seemed like the safest choice for her.”

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