Finally, he sighs. “So. You kicked your wife out?”
“I didn’t kick her out,” I snap. “She left.”
“Semantics.”
“It’s not semantics.”
He studies me for a second. “She really cheated?”
I rub a hand over my face. “Yeah.”
“Dad said you asked for his lawyer?”
That makes me hesitate. Darren notices immediately.
“Ah,” he says. “There it is.”
“Shut up.”
He leans back in his chair. “Logan, it’s been one day.”
“I know it’s been one day,” I shoot back. “Believe me, I’m aware.”
He raises a brow. “Then why are you rushing into a divorce?”
“I’m not rushing,” I mutter.
“Bullshit.”
I glare at him. “I’m allowed to be angry.”
“No one said you weren’t.”
“Good.”
“But,” he continues, “you’re also the guy who can’t stay mad at anyone he loves for longer than twenty-four hours.”
I point at him. “That is not true.”
He snorts. “Please. Growing up, I’d break your shit and you’d swear you’d never talk to me again.”
“I was mad.”
“Yeah,” he says, smirking. “For about twelve hours. Then you were asking if I wanted pizza.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because you’re my brother.”
“And Jess is your wife.”
I go quiet.
He watches me carefully. “You’ve always been like this, man. You avoid conflict with people you care about. You get mad, you explode, and then you cool off and pretend everything’s fine or you cut that person out for good.”
“That’s not-”
