threats.
He opened the album and pulled me down
beside him. “Mom, look! This is me in your
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tummy! And this is me as a baby! Aren’t I cute?
Grandma says I was the cutest baby in the
whole hospital.”
He was trying to appeal to my maternal
instincts. But looking at the photos, all I felt
was sadness for my younger self. I was so thin,
my belly huge. Morning sickness had plagued
me throughout the pregnancy. I looked
exhausted, my hair dull. Alex had been a
restless baby, kicking me constantly.
“Selfish,” I murmured.
“What, Mom?”
“You were so focused on yourself, you had no
idea how hard it was for me to carry you for
nine months.”
He wouldn’t understand. He and his father were
masters of self–preservation. I closed the
album. “Go home, Alex. These photos just bring
back painful memories.”
He protested, but eventually, the family’s
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housekeeper took him away.
A few days later, he returned with a ceramic
plate. “Mom, look! You made this for me! You
said it took you all day.”
“Oh? Why is it broken?”
He mumbled something. I knew he’d smashed
- it. He thought it was ugly, that it would
embarrass him at school. A shard of ceramic
had cut my arm, leaving a faint scar. I wasn’t
artistic, and this plate had been the best of the lot I’d made. Mark had bought him a
professionally made one for school. I’d painstakingly glued the pieces back together. But some things, once broken, can’t be fixed. “It’s damaged goods.” I tossed it in the trash, where it shattered again. “There’s a
replacement. This one is useless.”
Alex stared at the broken pieces, frozen. Then
his eyes lit up. “Mom! You remember me!”
I shook my head. “I never forgot you. I just
don’t want to remember anything about you or your father anymore.”
I sent him away. He left, looking defeated.
That
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That evening, we had a business dinner. Daniel
insisted on coming along, worried I’d drink too
much. Ironically, he was the one who couldn’t hold his liquor.
We decided to walk home; it wasn’t far, and the
fresh air would do us good. As I helped him
along, I casually asked, “Daniel, do you have feelings for me?”
His eyes flickered, then he looked away, blushing, and nodded.
My heart pounded. “What were you drinking
earlier?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Brandy, I think.”
“Really? Bend down.”
He obediently lowered his head. His lips looked soft and full. I kissed him. Soft, like a brandy-
soaked marshmallow, I thought, licking my lips. Daniel’s eyes widened in surprise and
something else… desire?
“Yep,” I said nonchalantly, “definitely brandy.” I
continued walking, leaving him frozen in place, his blush deepening.
He quickly caught up and wrapped his arms
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around me, burying his face in my neck. “Nicky,” he murmured, “I like you so much.”
Back at the apartment, he seemed to sober up. He pressed me against the door. “Nicky, can I kiss you?”
I nodded. He kissed me, his eyes burning with intensity. He carried me to the bedroom, the
kisses continuing. He nipped at my collarbone, then paused, sensing my trembling. “Nicky,” he whispered, “don’t push me away.”
In the darkness, I unbuckled his belt.
Mark was brooding at a party, drinking heavily. A snippet of conversation caught his attention. He slammed his hand on the table, sending glasses flying.
“What did you say? Daniel is adopted? And he’s always loved Nicole?” His voice was ice cold. He swept the remaining bottles off the table, sending shards of glass scattering across the floor. His friends, stunned into silence, had never seen him like this.
A chilling thought struck him. Daniel had never called him “brother–in–law,” nor had he ever
