Page 30 of Cayden

She knew that the path ahead would not be easy, but the conversation with Marianne had given her a renewed sense of determination.

As the night deepened, Blair sat by the window, looking out at the snow-covered landscape. She placed a hand on her growing belly, feeling the faint fluttering of life within her. The room was silent, save for the faint ticking of a distant clock, and she found solace in the quiet.

*****

“Nineteen sixty-five Cabernet blend.” Clive picked up the bottle and studied the label, a smile playing around his lips. “A mixture of fruity blend and a double wallop of alcohol. Excellent choice.”

“Thanks.” Cayden’s voice was rife with sarcasm, “not that I needed your approval.”

Ignoring his brother’s surly mood, Clive wandered towards the cheerful fire burning inside the hearth. Propping a booted foot on the mantle, he gazed around the wine cellar. Millions of dollars’ worth of liquor were stacked neatly on shelves.

It had taken years to accumulate the inventory, and the room was a showpiece and the pride and joy of every Caruso male.

“Remember when we sneaked down here in the middle of the night and kept our own drinking party? I was thirteen and you were fifteen. I threw up on the floor and you cleaned up after me. We were both sick as hell the next morning. Dad somehow discovered what we had been up to and figured we had been punished enough.”

“Now that you have entertained us both with the walk down memory lane, why don’t you take a hike?”

“I am not quite ready to leave.” Clive walked over to the bar, neatly built into one corner of the room, and selected a glass. Plucking the half empty bottle from the table in front of the sofa, his brother was sprawled on, he poured a generous amount and went to straddle a bar stool.

“What do you want?”

“World peace, a wife like yours…,” he grinned at the ominous look on Cayden’s face. “And to finally beat you in poker.”

“You keep mentioning my wife and touching her. Are you looking to start a fight?”

Clive shrugged, eyeing his brother over the rim of his glass. “She is amazing. I wish I had met her first.” He smiled slightly at the frown on Cayden’s brow. “I envy you. You have a woman who would go to the ends of the earth for you and sometimes I wonder if you realize how lucky you are.”

“I’m sure you cannot wait to tell me.”

“You are,” Clive told him soberly, “and she needs you.”

“I do not need you to remind me of my obligations. I am fully aware of them.”

“Good.”

They both looked up as Conail entered the room, a smile lighting up his face. “I had no idea there was a party going on. Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Because you’re annoying.” Clive told him blandly.

“You two can stay and reminisce or drink yourselves to death, I’m going to bed.”

“Something I said?” Conail watched as his brother made his way out.

“Always.” With a grin, Clive went to fetch a glass. “Let’s finish the bottle, shall we?”

*****

She was not inside the bedroom. The conversation with Clive had set him thinking. For the last couple of months, things had not been easy between him and his wife. He knew exactly where to find her. In the past, whenever they had an argument, she would go to her studio.

He had discovered to his surprise that she was quite talented as a painter. She had confessed that it was her ‘go to place’ whenever she was feeling stressed. He had several of her paintings inside his office, proudly displayed.

She had given Clive a still life piece for his birthday last year and his brother had hung it in a prominent place inside his office, something Cayden was not certain he liked.

He stood just inside the doorway and stared at the lovely picture she made. Her hair was tied back with a blue and white silk scarf, and she had changed into one of his t-shirts and an old pair of leggings.

The fact that she was wearing his shirt did something funny to his insides. He loved her so much that sometimes it feels as if he was being overwhelmed over by it.

Sensing his presence, she looked up from the canvas, eyes connecting with his. She looked unhappy, he thought with a pang. And he had contributed to that.

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