Part of me didn’t want to.
“Come on.”
Arm looped with mine, Brandi dragged me away, robbing me of the chance to dissect what I was really feeling. Thankfully, the ER turned into chaos, keeping me distracted.
Just after six thirty, Brandi nudged me, tipping her chin at the clock. By then, I’d calmed myself enough to deal with the situation, accepting that I’d rather face the devil head on than give him the pleasure of catching me unaware.
So when the clock struck seven, I headed outside and waited on the stair like a good little girl already planning her descent into something wicked.
Only, an hour passed with no sign of Remo, not even a commanding text. Huffing, I headed home just as my phone rang. I slid it out of my scrubs’ pocket expecting Remo.
It was my uncle, advising me that my brother was ready to meet me and unknowingly giving me the perfect excuse to escape Remo, even if it were just for a few days.
Serves him right for standing me up.
forty-six
. . .
Ishika– 32 years old
I wasn’t expecting the black limo that fetched me the next morning, so my surprise to find a private jet waiting for me was a little hard to contain. Still, the luxury was welcome since I’d spent the last two nights with minimal sleep, following Remo’s ministrations the first one and expecting him to arrive unannounced last night.
Fifty minutes, two glasses of wine and a scrumptious lunch later, I succumbed to the lull of the engine beneath me.
The second we touched down in Boston though; my eyes flew open and I accepted the warm washcloth the hostess handed me. However, as soon as I stepped off the plane and headed for the waiting black limo, every cell in my body tightened, threatening to squeeze the air from my lungs. The looming question, how my brother would react sat at the forefront of my thoughts.
When I stepped out of the limo, my uncle stood outside the hotel. “Welcome to Boston, Ishika,” he greeted with a soft smile. “Ever been?”
The hug felt awkward or maybe it was just my nerves acting up. “First time.”
“Come.” He gestured for me to follow him. Inside, the hotel was a lavish affair of dark red, stone and cream décor. “We’ve set you up in one of the penthouse suites.”
“You didn’t have to,” I murmured, stepping into the elevator behind him.
“Nonsense.” He laughed softly. “Only the best for family.”
I wasn’t certain if the edginess to his words was just my imagination and smiled. When the doors opened, I was hard-pressed to contain my awe and allowed my breath to ease out in a slow exhale, taking in the luxurious décor fit for royalty.
“You can wait in here.” My uncle guided me to another door which opened into a more intimate lounge.
“Thank you.” I nodded, waited for him to close the door behind him before moving to the window and focused on the view to dissuade my nerves from making an appearance. Sadly, that didn’t work.
When I heard the door re-open; tension pricked the tiny hairs at my back and tightened every muscle. Pressing a hand to my stomach, I pulled in deep breaths, urging calm into my body. Slowly, I turned.
I had no idea why the vision of a teenager came to mind when my uncle mentioned my brother but the person standing in front of me, was a handsome young man. Our eyes connected and any reservations I might’ve held about him not being my brother dissolved because staring back at me was a face I remembered well.
Papa.
Everything, from those deep brown eyes, slightly rounded nose, full pink lips and straight black hair reminded me of my father. My lungs collapsed and expanded at the same time.
I smiled; he didn’t, his body language a guarded tension, as if ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Another deep breath and I took a step closer. He just watched me. Cautious. Unsure. Lost?
“Hi,” I said softly.
An undisguised hesitation before he responded, “hi.” His voice was deeper than I expected and cold, or maybe it was fear.
My heart stuttered. My own brother feared me. I took a seat and gestured for him to do the same. “You don’t have to talk to,” I offered. “I just wanted to see you.”
