We finished our meal then washed it down with wine, but the second that was done, the crippling depression came back. The last nice meal I’d had was with Callum, when he’d made that pot roast for us and kissed me when I walked into the kitchen.
My brother seemed to know where my thoughts had ventured. “You love the guy, right?”
My eyes moved to his again. It was such a stupid question, I didn’t even answer it.
“Because, despite what he did, I know he loves you.”
I looked away again.
“They say love is always enough.”
“Dad told you what he did?”
He nodded.
“It’s pretty hard for me to look past. I’m surprised you don’t feel the same way.”
“No, it’s definitely hard for me. The fact that Dad almost died…all the shit we had to go through. But it’s easy to forget all the reasons I should hate him when I see how miserable you are.”
“I’m miserable because he hurt me.”
“And because he’s not here.”
A knock sounded on the door. “It’s Dad.”
“It’s open,” Hawk called over his shoulder.
Dad let himself inside, his shoulders and arms looking thicker than normal in the clothing he wore. Ever since he’d begun to feel better, he’d started to train again and to regain the muscle he’d lost. “Smells good in here.”
“We just finished lunch,” Hawk said. “But there’s extra in the pan.”
Dad wordlessly wandered into my kitchen and served himself the last fish that was sitting there before he returned to the table. “Mind if I speak to your sister alone?”
“Of course.” Hawk rose from his seat and left his dirty plate behind. “See you,Sunieth.”
I smiled slightly. “See you, brother.”
He let himself out, and Dad took the place where he’d just been sitting, pushing the dirty plate to the side before he sliced into the fish and took a bite. “You prepared this well.”
“Exactly how you taught me.”
“I think it tastes better because it has a woman’s touch.” He took a few more bites, the plate full of the flavorful sauce we’d added to it. He seemed to be done with it, even though half the fish remained, because he wiped his hands on the linen napkin before he looked at me. “How are you?”
I shrugged. “The same.”
His hands came together with his elbows on the table.
“Mom said you gave him a vineyard or something.” I let the accusation escape in my tone, feeling somewhat betrayed by my own father for taking a liking to Callumafterhe betrayed me.
He seemed to pick up on the tone because he said, “He doesn’t have anything, Lily. He’s a mortal man with no relatives and no occupation, alive again four hundred years after his death. He can’t overhunt in the forest and affect the dragons’ food supply, and he can’t live in an inn.” He rubbed his knuckles. “I thought you would be happy that I helped him.”
“I am. I just…”
He continued his hard stare.
“I thought you would be harder on him after he hurt me.”
“If you saw him with your own eyes, I think you would understand why I’ve chosen a different approach.”
