Time to confess. Emptying the glass, I drag in a lungful of air, rehashing.
“I punished myself for what I had to do by refusing us. Not giving Dahlia what she really wanted and needed from me, but bought her stuff to compensate. She asked me to kiss her on her birthday. For years, all I could think was that I should have just kissed her and made her mine. Then all the hell would have been avoided. But I couldn’t stay away anymore, man. Loving her wore me down.”
“Men seeking vengeance always find a way. Still, thank you for bringing her back.”
“I would slaughter them all over again. And now you have the biggest leverage possible. I betrayed my kin, becoming the Pakhan on a lie. My sole weakness is her.”
“Do you think I would stoop so low, asshole?” he mumbles.
“I know you’re hurt, feel betrayed.”
He inhales a long breath. “You killed them for my sister. Pledged your loyalty to the son of the man responsible for killing your mother. Our fathers might have wanted to separate us even from the grave, but I guess our connection keeps growing.”
“Why didn’t you shoot me?” He had the perfect chance, and I would have never retaliated.
He expels a deep sigh. “I saw that the first thing you did was protect her. That saved your life.”
“Thanks, asshole,” I grumble.
“You still haven’t answered. Why didn’t you tell me?” he inquires, but his tone loses its edge.
I drag a hand down my face, looking ahead as if I can conjure her. She’s my solace. “Dahlia was terrified of how you’d react. I can’t say no to her.”
“Yeah, welcome to the club.”
I chuckle. “Sorry for ruining your date night.”
“I suspected something, but I needed confirmation. When my wife avoided the topic, I knew she knew something. So, I got mad at you two for putting her in that position.”
“I love Dahlia. I fucking vow.”
“I never doubted you loving her. I just wasn’t expecting this type of love,” he says, sounding resigned.
I take it as a good sign.
Another pause follows, and I say, “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
A sound of dissatisfaction rumbles in his throat. “You’re moving fast, fucker. Give me some time.”
“Look who’s talking. And I’m not wasting one more minute,” I inform him.
He will come to terms. He’ll have to.
“A few days to process won’t kill you, asshole,” he grits out.
“I’ve lost years,” my voice rises, but I quickly lower it, not to wake her up. “I don’t intend to lose one more day. And we’re coming over tomorrow.”
“At your own risk,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Stop being an asshole. You can’t live without me.”
“I wonder why I’m like that,” he snickers. “Don’t tempt me.”
“I would have told you tomorrow. But no, you had to come here guns blazing, hotheaded fucker,” I snap.
“I was in a mood, thinking my best friend and the man I consider a brother betrayed me,” he snaps back.
“And that mood cost you a night with your wife,” I jab.
