Page 136 of Reckless Hearts

He pulls me to him, and for a few seconds, I just cling to his chest, breathing in the scent of Marcus.

Tears prickle my eyes, but when he pulls away, his expression is smooth, a small smile quirking his lips.

“Remember, if you miss me too much, you can always watch one of my movies.”

Marcus’s mask is on. For a second, I want to scratch at it, pull it away, so in these last seconds together, I get to see the genuine Marcus.

I let go of him.

“See you guys. Don’t drink and eat all of the minibar.” There’s a quick flash of Marcus’s smile, and then he’s out the door.

I wrap my arms around my torso, trying to hold myself together.

Saskia heads straight to the minibar and pours herself a glass of whiskey.

I raise my eyebrows at her.

“What? He’s the one who put the idea in my head. Besides, I think he owes me a couple of drinks.” She pours a second glass and holds it out to me. “And you look like you could use one too, little brother.”

I go over and plonk myself on the couch opposite her.

Saskia takes a sip of the whiskey, her perfectly manicured fingers white-knuckled around the glass.

“I’m still getting my head around you two. It’s like pairing a Gucci handbag with a pair of crocs,” she says.

“He’s…”

He’s not like you think. He’s so much more than what he’s ever shown you.

But I don’t think Saskia wants to hear that.

And it almost feels like a betrayal of Marcus to say that to her.

I need to change the conversation fast.

“I can’t believe Tom did that to you.”

My voice is gentle, but Saskia reacts like I’ve slapped her. Her face does the same thing it did when we were kids and I accidentally broke the music box Grandma gave her—a flash of hurt quickly masked by anger, but not quickly enough to hide the pain underneath.

“Yeah, well, neither can I,” she says. She takes a big gulp of her whiskey.

“You want to talk about it?” I ask, then immediately second question myself. Am I doing this for Saskia’s benefit because I’m a good brother? Or is this me simply trying to distract from my own heartbreak because the man I love just walked out the door?

She shrugs. “What’s there to say? I thought he loved me. But apparently not enough to forgo sticking his cock in someone else.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Remember how you used to say I had terrible taste in boys back in high school? Guess some things never change.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Yeah, so am I.”

She looks at the bottom of her whiskey glass contemplatively.

“For so long, I glided through life, thinking I was immune to crap. I didn’t realize how fragile happiness can be.”

Her eyes glisten, and she looks so vulnerable I can’t help moving from my couch to hers, slipping my arm around her so she can rest her head on my shoulder.

Your siblings are the people you will have the longest relationship with in your life, outlasting the relationship with your parents, enduring longer than any relationship with a partner or your children.

Saskia and I have never been close, and that’s partly on me. I’ve never challenged the status quo of being her quiet, nerdybrother, content in her shadow. I’ve never looked to extend our relationship beyond the superficial.