Page 21 of Kyle
Ingrid remained on the couch, watching her brother's tense posture, sensing that words were churning beneath the surface, waiting to be spoken.
"You cannot hate me for wanting to protect you." She broke the pregnant silence and had him whirling from the contemplation out the window.
"Protect me? Who the hell gave you the impression that I need protection?"
"Your past relationships indicate such." She responded calmly. "I was the one who had to pick up the pieces when you got yourself broken into pieces. Twice."
"And you're never going to let me forget that." He said bitterly.
"You're my brother and I love you more than anyone in the world. So be pissed off at me, call me names, but I reserve the right to be cautious about this guy. He might be the genuine type, but time will tell." She eyed him over her coffee cup. "And you know as well as I do that as far as grandfather is concerned, he will never approve of the relationship."
Matthew drank the whiskey too quickly and almost choked on it. "I already told Andre that much." His voice had quieted, his anger replaced by weariness. "I've often asked myself, what is it about me that ensures I don't deserve an ounce of happiness. I can leave all of it. The money, the privileges that go with it and try and make a life for myself. Live with Andre in a state where no one knows who I am. Be someone else."
He crossed to her and sat. "But it would mean leaving you." His eyes were shadowed. "And as much of a pain in the ass as you are, I cannot bear to be out of your life." He lifted her feet and placed them across his thighs. "You're my family honey, the only one I really love and respect. Christ! What a mess."
"Here you are with me, when you should be with the man you married just yesterday. Where the hell is he by the way?"
She shrugged and sipped. "I think he went to see the actress."
His eyes sharpened as he stared at her. "And you're okay with that?"
She smiled thinly. "I advised him to use protection."
Matthew's eyes widened and he laughed humorlessly. "Jesus. That's something you do not hear everyday from a newly wed."
"You're forgetting that this is an unusual situation. I was single, so it was easy for me to jump into the arrangement. He was involved and I think he really loves the woman or as much as someone like him can manage that. It must be hard on him. So, as long as he's discreet, he can do whatever the hell he wants."
"And what about you? Aren't you two supposed to be procreating?"
She shrugged again. "Eventually. There's no rush."
He picked up his cooling coffee and drank it down. "I have no idea how you do it. It sounds cold as hell and a nightmare of a situation."
"I did what I had to. I have my work and it's enough for now."
Her voice was quiet but firm. "We both did what we had to, Matthew. Life doesn't always give us the choices we want." She gave a small, wistful smile. "Sometimes we have to settle for what keeps us safe, or sane, or able to face the day." There was a moment's pause, the weight of unspoken history lingering between them, before she added softly, "But that doesn't mean we stop hoping for more."
Putting down his cup, he turned to her. "Let me ask you this, what if you meet someone and fall in love? What then?"
She considered it for a minute. "I don't see that happening. I think I'm immune. We lived with our parents and saw how they were with each other. Love is something I don't believe in, well,not really. Like I said, I have my career and that's enough. I'm very fortunate to love what I do."
Matthew felt the chill at her words and wondered if she realized how lonely she sounded. "Love is magical." He told her softly. "And no one is immune to it. No one."
*****
For the first time since meeting her, he was uncomfortable. She had begged him to meet her. When he reminded her that they could not be seen in public, she had suggested her place.
He hesitated on her doorstep, nerves prickling beneath his skin as he glanced up at the familiar apartment number. This was a risk, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to turn away. The hallway smelled faintly of jasmine and old wood, and as the door swung open, her expression was both anxious and expectant, a quiet vulnerability hidden behind practiced poise.
"We're alone. I made sure of it. The housekeeper prepared the meal and left." She drew him inside, her smile one of seduction. She had showered and was wearing a cloud of her signature perfume and an electric blue robe that outlined her very white skin. The dining room with its ultra-modern furnishings, the pristine white walls and table set for two, had candles burning. "I had her make all of your favorites."
"That's thoughtful of you." He had not kissed her except for a casual peck on the cheek, much to her disappointment.
"I hope you brought your appetite with you."
"I only had some coffee." He sat down and waited to be served.
"Oh?" Her brows arched as she spooned up thinly sliced roast beef. "I thought maybe you would be having breakfast with her."
