Page 61 of Van Cort

WEST

WEEKS LATER

He’s already sitting there when I approach from behind. Of course he is. Everett Van Cort wouldn’t be late for a damn thing, would he? Maybe, if the stake up his ass was removed, we wouldn’t be sitting here womanless. A fucking gold vault?

Honestly, I could still kill him for that.

I frown and keep moving towards him.

He should have left it to me. There would have been at least some romance and a far better build-up towards the actual proposal.

Although given that I came back here to ruin something and ended up in love, maybe this screw up is partly my responsibility.

Either way, I’m still irritated about the whole damned situation.

Here we are, brothers, wealthy bachelors ready to tie the knot, and she’s off in New York deliberating her answer? His fault.

All. His. Fault.

“Did you bring coffee?” he asks as I get close.

“You don’t deserve any gifts from me.” He holds his hand out, ready to grab the takeout coffee that I have brought with me. “I should pour it over your head.” He sighs, takes the coffee from me as I pass it to him, and looks back at the view again.

“Are you still going on about this?”

“This? You mean Andie? Andie is not a this.”

“She’ll call when she’s ready. Stop acting like a lost puppy.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s angry constantly.”

“I am not angry. I’m pensive.”

“Same fucking thing when it comes to you.” He chuckles a little and sips his drink, leaning back on the bench. “Why are you calm? It’s been weeks. What if she’s not okay?”

“She’s fine.” How does he know that?

“You’ve spoken to her?”

“No. I know people who have, though. She’s settled in and is impressing whom she needs to.”

“So, you’re trailing her. Obsessive tendencies coming back, are they?” He snorts.

“Do you honestly think I’d let her just go to New York without knowing where she is?” Fair point.

“What if she doesn’t call?”

“She will.”

I could roll my eyes out of my head. “Oh yes, of course she will. She must, mustn’t she? Because everything does as you tell it to. Is it even plausible to you that she might just think, ‘screw that pair of assholes’ and move on?”

“You asked if she’d call. She will. I didn’t say we’d like the answer.” I scowl and get up from the bench to pace. “You need something to do with yourself, West. Why don’t you go back to the house and deal with it?”

“And do what? Burn it to the ground? Redecorate? Put some fucking dynamite under it?” He fiddles with his cufflink, raising his chin up, as he looks along the Sound. “Why are you fidgeting?”

“I’m not.”

“You are. What are you not talking about?” He takes another drink, still not answering. “Rhett?”

“You could go bury the music box.” My body rears back from him. “You probably need to.”

“What?”

“You know what I’m saying, West. It’s time for the past to be buried. It won’t do either of us any good in the future.”

I turn to look at the ocean. “It might serve as a good reminder for you to think more and act less.”

“If you still believe that’s necessary, then none of this will ever work. You need to let go. Of all of it, West.” I nod, knowing he’s right. It’s hard, though.

“You don’t want to come with me?” He shakes his head.

“No. My life is River and you and nothing else. Do whatever you need to do to make sure it’s the same for you.”

We sit in amicable silence for a while, me thinking, him barely moving. And the more I think, the more my mind continuously thinks of Andie rather than Lara. I don’t know what that means to my memories of the past, but it does prove that whatever hatred used to live inside me is gone.

Love replaced it, I guess. Hope.

“What do you want to do if she does come back to us?” I must look confused because he gets up and nods at me to follow. “Let’s walk.” A group of women look at him as he turns for the track down to the main pathway, then giggle as I come into view behind him.

“We missed a lot of years getting that kind of reaction.”

He looks over at them, frowning and not the least bit welcoming to their approach. “I suppose we did, but I expect we both got what we needed to pass the time through those years.” We walk on, both of us in perfect step, both of us in perfect unison. “Was there ever anyone special for you?”

“You mean other than Lara?” He doesn’t react, other than side-eyeing me, and in some ways, I chastise myself for even bringing her up. “No. No one. As you say, I passed the time.”

“Is there anything left that you need to discuss about her?” Lara, he means.

I sip my coffee and try to think about what’s transpired since I’ve been back, and how I now feel about that time long ago. “I’m still not sure I can reconcile your behaviour, but we’re here now and…” I drift off, unsure what should finish the sentence.

“And what?”

“I don’t know, Rhett. You’re asking me to forget about something you did to a woman I loved.”

“I’m not asking you to forget it, West. God knows I can’t.

I don’t even have a decent excuse for it other than blind rage, confusion, hormonal reaction.

Alcohol maybe. Years of goddamn abuse. You, her.

I was a disaster waiting to happen. Still could be, I suppose.

” He sighs and stops, shifting his body so he’s not next to me.

“But I’d still do every minute of it again as long as you didn’t get the brunt of our father.

I would. I don’t regret that part of anything.

It was my job to keep you safe. I did it as well as I could. ”

“It wasn’t your job. And I never asked you for it.”

“Maybe not, but I took it on anyway.”

I frown and shove my hand in my pocket, uncomfortable with this line of conversation. “What do you want from me regarding that?”

“Nothing.”

“Yes, you do. You called me the problem that night in your apartment. You said that you let her go over that cliff because I didn’t let you have her, as if I should have understood your pain and realised you needed me to give her to you.

The thing is, Rhett, I’d already made that choice.

I accepted that she would go with you to Harvard, despite it hurting like hell for me.

That was my penance for those beatings you took.

I was ready for that. I didn’t know she was going to say what she did. What did you want me to do? Say no?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I wanted you to say back then.” He shrugs. “I probably wouldn’t expect the same now, or make the same choice now.”

“Probably?”

“Probably.”

“So, if Andie comes back now and says she wants me over you, you’ll be fine with it?” He takes a sip of his coffee and stares out over the water, presumably thinking that conundrum over. I expect he has already. I have.

“I’ll do my best not to drop her off the roof.” My head whips sideways to glare at him.

“Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Hmm.”

“No handshake and the best man won speech?”

“Absolutely not. I might love you, and I might have to respect her decision, but I don’t have to congratulate you for it. Don’t expect me to.”

“Would be nice if you did.”

“I’m not nice. And she’s not going to choose you anyway, so it doesn’t matter. She’ll choose us, or neither of us.”

“You don’t think she’ll choose you over me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because her forgiving me enough to still want me means she loves me, and that means she knows how much I need you. There is no version of me alone that she’ll want now. I’m unresolved without you.”

I’d like to give some pleasant statement in reply for him telling me he loves and needs me, but I’m still too pissed at the crap proposal to bother.

“Maybe she will want me over you then. I am the better brother after all.”

He side-eyes me again.

“Maybe. It’s possible. I wouldn’t count on it, though.”

Kicking a stone into the water, he turns and starts to walk along the path leading to the stony outlet. It’s quieter now than it was last time I was here with her, fewer people, which is probably the reason he’s chosen here to meet.

“Do you want to go back there?” I ask, as we keep moving. “Home, I mean.” He looks at me briefly before choosing another direction to gaze into.

“I don’t think it was ever a home for me, and I won’t go back there without her.”

I nod, understanding that without hesitation. “But you must miss the silence, Rhett. All this around you now seems so unlike the you I once knew.”

“The me you once knew wasn’t a stable man, West. I think you’d prefer this version for what we’re hoping to achieve.”

“Yeah, but… it’s like there’s something missing now sometimes. You were pretty cool back then, you know? Short of 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.”