It made him think a bit too much about how little laughter there had ever been in this house. That, along with these family dinners that he found he liked even with his bruises tonight, had to become a staple of his child’s life as it had not been of his. He did not wish to question himself on why that seemed of such critical importance to him now.
After dinner, when Leontina took a long look at the two men opposite her and then excused herself, Pau and Giaco sat there a moment. The sky above them was an inky black swirled through with too many stars to begin counting. The air smelled of fall, and of the winter to come. The staff had rolled the freestanding heaters closer to the table before they’d served the main course, and the temperature was pleasant.
Pau might not have known how to have a brother, so he did what he did know how to do. He prepared his friend’s favorite drink at the bar inside, and then sat there with him in the weight of it all.
Giaco eyed him, but did not speak. An indictment if ever there was one, to Pau’s mind. For nothing was more concerning than Giaco Taviansilent.
Or, a tart voice within him suggested, sounding not unlike Leontina in one of her bolder moods,perhaps you have a guilty conscience.As you should.
“I should have told you what I was doing, Giaco,” he said abruptly, though the words felt strange and acidic in his mouth. Likely because he had not apologized, to anyone, in longer than he could recall—and not because he believed himself a blameless, spotless human. But because he had long endeavored to live the kind of life that did not require an apology tour. “I should not have kept all of this a secret from you.”
“Indeed you should not have,” Giaco agreed, but he did not lookmurderous. This seemed like an upgrade from earlier in the evening.
“I don’t think that I realized until now…” He shook his head. “I suspect you might not like it, but I thought that it was the family relationship, the fact that she is your sister, that would bother you. That your brotherly instincts would kick in and you would be angry about it, as brothers always seem to be.”
“I know I have played the part of a man who feels nothing at all,” Giaco said quietly. “But I assumed that you—perhaps only you, across a great many years—knew better.”
Pau inclined his head. “I do know better. Yet it was not until tonight that I realized that this course of action was also, on some level, a betrayal of our partnership. And more, our friendship.”
“You’ve known me a long time.” Giaco swirled the amber liquid around in his tumbler, his bruised knuckles catching the lights. He had a curious look on his face. Pau didn’t think he’d ever seen it before. “In that time, have I ever struck you as the sort of person, much less an older brother of a fully grown woman, who would become distraught about a bit of fucking?” He shook his head. “Please. What do you take me for?”
“That’s my point.” Pau shook his head. “The brotherly relationship baffles me. I would have assumed that nothing would bother you, but given that the point was to spring this as a fait accompli upon your father, secrecy had to be maintained. But the swelling of my eye suggests that I was wrong about that, does it not?”
Giaco gazed at him, then set his drink down. Decisively. “Pau. The only thing I care about is if my sister felt taken advantage of at any point in this.” He lifted a brow. “Do you feel that she did?”
Pau felt his jaw tense. Because how could he answer that to Giaco’s satisfaction? He had worried about precisely that and then it turned out that Leontina had been scheming all along. But how could he tell her brother such a thing if he didn’t already know it?
If, on some level, he did not really know who his sister was?
He remembered too late that Giaco was sitting in front of him, watching him, and was not at all certain what expression he had on his face. He tried at once to modify it into something more impassive.
“She does not appear to believe I did,” he said, carefully, and had to clear his throat. There seemed, suddenly, to be too many pressure points in too many places and he was not at all certain that he wasn’t broadcasting them all. “I can only look back at my own behavior and take solace in that.”
He thought he saw Giaco smile, though he hid it as he took a pull from his drink.
“In any case,” his friend murmured, sounding significantly more pleased with himself than Pau thought he should tonight, “you must realize that I have always known that my father intended to sell Leontina off. It has long been one of his great, sick obsessions that he can create a mighty and impregnable dynasty by auctioning off his only daughter like some kind of raffle prize.” Giaco lifted a shoulder, then dropped it, though the way he looked at Pau seemed almost…knowing. “Had you come to me and told me you wanted to marry her, whether because you thought that would be an excellent way to stick the knives in deeper into my father’s back—and I agree with you, it’s perfect—or whether you simplylikedher, I would have had the same response. You have long been the finest man I’ve ever known, Pau. I would have been delighted to support you in this venture, had you only told me about it in advance.”
“Thank you,” Pau said dryly. “Speaking of sticking knives in.”
This time, his friend did not try to hide his smile.
“In any case, it is done now,” Giaco said. He waved a hand. “My sister is not unhappy, she informs me, and so I therefore have no complaint. And, of course, we know that you have never allowed a stray feeling to take purchase within you, so no worries that this will become any sort of emotional quagmire.”
He lifted his glass, still smiling, though Pau found that he was in no way reassured. And that, in fact, it felt as there were purchases aplenty within him that he could not have named if his life depended on it.
But Giaco was smiling at him, even more broadly now. “Now we are brothers in truth, old friend. That is our celebration.”
That was what they did for the rest of that evening, though it was a far cry from the sort of celebration they might have had in their university years, or any of the sorts of celebrations Giaco was famous for. Not to mention those that had gotten him forcibly removed from many places. But it suited who they were now, Pau thought.
Though when he thought it, he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to compare his marriage to his friend’s. That seemed…dangerous.
They spoke of the plots they’d brought to fruition. They laughed about the brash proclamations they’d made when they were eighteen about the lives they would lead, and how pleased they were that most of them had not gone anywhere.
When they parted later that night, Pau had the staff lead Giaco to one of the guest suites, but not before they clapped each other on the back. And called each otherbrotheryet again, meaning it perhaps more than they had before.
The moment Giaco disappeared, making the overly charmed staff member giggle as they went—because he might have been happily married but he was still Giaco Tavian, after all—the only thing Pau could think about was Leontina.
But that felt loaded tonight. His face ached from his best friend’s fists. He’d had to defend what had happened between him and Leontina when, deep down, he wasn’t certain he should. Or even wanted to, because Leontina was his wife and they were having a son and what else should matter but that?
