Page 137 of Van Cort
“Yeah, but… it’s like there’s something missing now sometimes. You were pretty cool back then, you know? Shortof the obvious. Before it all went really bad, you laughed more. Really laughed. I’d like to see that again.”
“You would?”
I frown. “Yes. Why would you think I wouldn’t?” He smiles a little. “If you don’t laugh and get some part of the old you back, then how the hell are we supposed to keep her happy?”
“Ah, you mean for her.”
“And me, Rhett. I don’t want any part of us broken anymore. And I don’t want to go home without you either. The only way we’re getting rid of our father is by turning the place into something that couldn’t ever have been him.” He looks at me. “You want peace? Some silence? Some time to build what we wanted all those years ago so we can laugh and enjoy life? Then you need to drop the wall of stone and start living again. I need my brother back.”
“Your brother was an asshole back there.”
“Yeah. He was. I don’t think he is anymore. I think he’ll be different now.”
“But every time she’s not near me there, all I can think of is pain, West. It’s only her changing that dynamic. Without her, it’s just filled with hate and bad memories. I don’t know how to fix that. Or even if I can.”
A silence descends between us, and other than the wind cutting through the air and the occasional sound of yelling from the yachts, there’s only the sound of our feet landing as we walk on. For the first time in years, and probably because we’re both waiting on her answer, it feels completely at ease between us.
“You can fix it, Rhett. We can.” Because we’re together in something again, perfectly focused on the same outcome, regardless of our different behaviour patterns. It’s like we’re sailing out there; one steering, one navigating the sails and the wind, but both with the same objective in mind - winning the woman we love.
“So, what do you want to do if she does decide to come home and wants us both?” he muses. “How do we work that through? Do you even want a life in the business?”
“Fuck no. That’s all yours. I’m travelling. With her, obviously, and having a lot of sex. Also, with her.”
He chuckles lightly. “Any responsibility levels there at all?”
“No. Besides, the last thing you want is me fiddling around in your books. I’ll screw everything up just for something to do on a rainy afternoon.”
“Right.”
“Unless that’s what you need me to do?”
“Not.”
“Fine.”
“And how do we share her sensibly if I’m constantly working and you’re constantly fucking?”
“Don’t know. I care even less after that question. Sounds like a perfect setup to me.” He doesn’t look as impressed with the thought as I feel. “What do you want?”
“Time. Space. Peace. When I can get it. Maybe a vacation. A long one.”
“You know you don’t have to work, right?”
“I do. Someone has to keep all this going.”
“Why? There was enough money before I left for us to never need to work, and, assuming you haven’t lost it all, there should be more by now so-”
“For our children, West. For our Van Cort’s future.”
CHAPTER FORTY - FIVE
RIVER
ONE YEAR LATER
The stale air on the plane is already making my skin itch, but at least it’s cool.
It can’t stop my palms from sweating, though. Maybe it’s because I’m carrying a priceless heirloom in a little gold box in my pocket. A wall of small diamonds protecting a stunning emerald that can only serve as a reminder of the man, no, men, that I love.
