Page 141 of Van Cort

Will I get jealous of West? Yes. He offers something I can’t. It pisses me off. We’ll work on that if you like. Or you can choose to enjoy the benefits of my broodiness.

Will you still hate me on occasion? Yes. I’m the responsible one, and I won’t always yield like he will. I won’t apologise for that, either. I’m selfish and possessive compared to him. We’ll argue, I’m sure, and you probably won’t with West. But there’s a fierce loyalty in the heat you’ll bring out of me that he will never understand or deliver.

How will it all work? I don’t know yet. You tell me. Unless you want me to tell you, which will result in me being an overbearing ass. You choose. I’ll listen. Mostly.

Is that enough? What else do you need?

This has been truly exhausting. Don’t take that as a negative. It isn’t meant as one. Exhausting me means you’re inside me. You’re pulling thoughts from me that no one else has before you.

However, it’s also been, quite strangely, entirely relaxing.

And I’m smiling, which you should know is absolutely down to the thought of your ass. I’ve missed it. And you.

I’m sure you have a thousand more questions, but, with any luck, this has been enough of my thoughts that you can see why there’s an array of possibilities that we can search for and find together. Ask, River. Always ask. Pick your moment and challenge me. I will answer.

I love you. Probably more than him. Differently, at least.

Come home to me.

Everett.

They showed me that they were two people. But two versions of the same. They didn’t lie. They told me the truth. I justdidn’t see it or understand it then. And with each letter, each correspondence, with distance to clear the air, they showed me who they were. They were both right. I did already know them, and the differences between them. I’d just fallen for them as one man. Not twins.

***

The months went on, but I didn’t relent or agree to see them. To start with, I told myself it was because I wasn’t ready. That I hadn’t forgiven them. But then, it was because I was scared to admit my feelings and how they wrapped around the two men. Both one and the same, but completely different. And at the top of the list of holding back, was keeping the power I knew they had over me a secret. Telling them how I felt would hand back any power I held for myself. They didn’t deserve my truth until I was ready to give it to them. On my terms. In my own way.

So the letters continued.

Andie

You didn’t reply to my last letter.

I realise I did send three in one week, and expecting three in return, which professed your desperate need for me and told me you’d be returning soon, might be asking too much, but one? At least? Even if it was to tell me to stop bothering you???

I’m yearning over here, you know?

I didn’t write back to West that week because I was too busy trying to write one to Everett. He’d started pressuring me. I could hear his dominance and frustration in every word. I doubt anyone at his office was having a good time. But, dammit, he deserved to be frustrated. I was glad of it. It helped increase the power I was going to need if I was ever going to make a decision.

My eventual reply was short, sharp, and precisely what I needed him to understand.

This is my time, Everett.

I’ll take as long as I need.

You’ll either wait, or you won’t.

I do miss you, though. Both of you.

My power. Mine.

***

Nine months into the temporary position, the New York office offered me a permanent position. It should have been everything I ever wanted, but it didn’t mean as much to me now that I’d won it. And, when you’re starving yourself of something you love, everything else has a bittersweet taste.

April thought I should accept, despite knowing that I was in love with the Van Cort brothers. She came to visit, and she knew I wasn’t my usual self. So, after a few glasses of wine, I confessed under duress. She was furious. And angry.

But, she also came around.