Marcus looked toward the front windows.
Claire’s expression transformed from grief into panic.
“No.”
Marcus stared.
“What?”
She moved toward the window.
Another car door.
Then footsteps.
Marcus already knew.
He looked toward her.
“You called him.”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“I texted him earlier.”
“Why?”
“I told him not to come.”
Marcus laughed.
“He was coming here on Ethan’s birthday?”
Claire said nothing.
The front door opened.
Daniel used the code.
That detail nearly made Marcus lose control more than everything else.
The door opened without a knock.
Daniel Bennett stepped inside.
Thirty-seven.
Two years younger than Marcus.
Same deep brown skin.
Same broad shoulders inherited from their father.
Short black hair.
Trimmed beard.
Charcoal coat.
Car keys in one hand.
He looked toward the destroyed birthday wrapping.
Then Claire.
Then Marcus.
He stopped.
“Marcus.”
Marcus said nothing.
Daniel looked toward the stairs.
“Where’s Ethan?”
Marcus crossed the living room before he finished the sentence.
Not running.
Not attacking.
Just moving.
Daniel instinctively stepped backward.
Marcus stopped inches from him.
“You do not say his name right now.”
Daniel swallowed.
“I came because Claire texted—”
“I don’t care.”
“Marcus.”
“No.”
Daniel held out his hands.
“I know how this looks.”
Marcus laughed.
That sentence.
The most insulting sentence available.
“How it looks?”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve many things.”
Claire moved closer.
“Please don’t do this with Ethan upstairs.”
Marcus looked at her.
“Go upstairs.”
“What?”
“Stay with him.”
“He’s watching TV.”
“Go.”
Claire hesitated.
Marcus’s eyes sharpened.
“Now.”
She went.
Neither brother spoke until her footsteps disappeared.
Daniel removed his coat.
Marcus looked at him.
“Put it back on.”
Daniel stopped.
“You’re leaving.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“No.”
“You deserve the truth.”
“I deserved it eight years ago.”
Daniel looked down.
Marcus continued:
“You slept with my fiancée.”
“Yes.”
“Did you hate me?”
Daniel’s head lifted.
“No.”
“Then explain that.”
“I can’t.”
“Try.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“We were drinking.”
Marcus laughed.
“Claire already used that one.”
“I know.”
“She was upset.”
“About?”
“You.”
Marcus stared.
“She thought you were avoiding the wedding.”
“I was in the hospital with Dad.”
“I know.”
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“We argued.”
“She said you always chose work or family crises over her.”
“I told her she was being unfair.”
Marcus shook his head.
“And this somehow ends with you in bed together?”
“No.”
“It ends with me being angry at you too.”
“You?”
Daniel nodded.