Brothers of Paradise Series

“I think she wanted to know if it was worth it. I told her that you were.”

My throat tightens unexpectedly. Lily is staring up at me with determination, her small frame set in a mixture of frustration and unwavering belief. For so many years, I was the one who held us together as siblings, but she’s always been the beating heart.

“Now, Henry Edward Marchand, was I right? Will you work hard for what you want, and for those you care about? Were you worth her taking a risk?”

Faye’s expression comes back to me. Her anger at Kyle, at the situation. At the uncertainty I’d helped create. I’d given her space without a second thought. It had been what she asked for, and I’d respected that.

But maybe I’d been too fast with it. There were still things between us that needed to be said-and things I need to make clear.

I wrap an arm around my little sister, who leans into me with complete trust, as she always has. Her head barely comes to my shoulder. “Thanks, Lils.”

“Of course.” She looks like something is on the tip of her tongue, eyes expectant, but then she shakes her head. “Go and get Faye back, and then bring her back for another weekend here. I want us to go sailing together with Hayden.”

“I will,” I say, backing away from her. She’s framed by the porch light, and in her white summer dress, she looks like an angel. “I love you, Lils!”

“I love you too!” she calls back. “Go get your girl!”

Back in the cottage, I sit down and write a letter. I write down everything that could have been a potential point of miscommunication between Faye and me. Everything is detailed. As soon as I get back to New York, I’ll drop it by her mailbox. I don’t know if it’ll be enough, but it’s a start, and I’ll refuse to stop from there.

Faye

I stare at the envelope. It had been waiting for me in the mailbox this morning. There’s no stamp, only my name on the front, written in his handwriting. Faye. He must have hand delivered it. He’d been that close-just downstairs-and I hadn’t known. I’d been here in my apartment, stress cleaning or ironing or doing whatever other semi-productive thing I could during the days, waiting for my work contract with Rykers to start.

I don’t know what I would have done if I knew he’d been downstairs, to be honest. If he’d texted me and asked me to come down. I’d have been panicked, of course. Excited. I want to see him-it’s like an itch under my skin, the lack of communication between us, even if I’m the one initiating it.

Am I being a fool for needing space?

The envelope is lying innocently on my coffee table. Despite my staring, it’s not giving me any answers. Jess, who has taken to staying over several times a week, gives me a disapproving shake of the head. “Are you actually going to open it? You’ve been staring at it for half an hour.”

“I’m not sure I want to know what it says.”

She sits down opposite me. “What do you want it to say?”

I look at the envelope again, at my name scribbled across the top. He’d called several times after I walked out of his office. I hadn’t answered a single time.

“I don’t know,” I say.

She shoots me a crooked smile, like she doesn’t believe me. “You want it to make things better between the two of you.”

“Yes. But I can’t see how it could. What happened…”

“Was seriously messed up,” she fills in. “And it’s perfectly understandable that you’re still upset about it.”

“Yes.”

“Your self-confidence was hurt.”

“Yes,” I say again, weaker now.

Jess leans forward and puts a hand on my knee. She’s just put a loaf of bread into my oven, and the scent in my apartment is divine. Thank God for being in-between jobs when you also have a best friend who mostly works nights.

“And I get why. We both do. But what happened wasn’t like with Elliot Ferris. Henry didn’t try to cut you out of his project. He didn’t imply to companies around the city that you made improper advances. He is suing that asshole for slander.”

“I know that.”

“You do rationally, but you’re in exactly the same state as after you were fired from Ferris. Worse, actually.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks.”

“I’m a harsh friend, I know. But you love it, and frankly, you need it at the moment. This whole thing hit you right where you’re weakest. Punished for your ambition. Your looks made out to be something dirty. And Henry and you… well, I’m guessing you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him. And then it all came crashing down, and the issues are mixing in your head, when they’re actually very separate things.”

I look up at the ceiling and feel hollow inside, like I’ve been emptied completely. “When did you get so wise, huh?”

There’s a smile in her voice. “People talk to bartenders a lot. More than they should, probably. And I’ve known you a long time.”

“I know what I don’t want the letter to say. That he’s saying goodbye for real.”

“See? Progress!” The sofa dips as she sits down next to me. “Do you miss him?”

“Of course I do.”

“From what you’ve told me, he was very concerned about not crossing any lines, right?”

“Yes.” I think of his body against mine, of my promise to him that I wouldn’t regret sleeping together, that I was in this with him. I had messed this up, too. Other memories flood back. His laughter as we walked along the beach. His hair wet from the ocean. He’d let me into a piece of his world, his mind, his soul. And when we were found out, I’d retreated.

“I’ve been an idiot. Not news, exactly.”

“No, you’ve been afraid. There’s a difference.” Jess nods at the coffee table. “And I think it’s time you stop.”

She’s right. I need to find the version of me who sent a drunken application letter to a high prestige architecture firm. Who showed up to the interview determined to take any chance she got. I reach for the envelope, pulling out the letter with a trembling hand. It’s long, written in Henry’s neat hand.

My heart is a war drum in my chest as my eyes scan through it. “Oh,” I sigh in relief. “It’s good.”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe I still have a shot.”

“Of course you do. He’s wanted you since you two met. Tell me what it says.”

So I read it out loud, Henry’s words filling my small apartment.

Faye,

I’m glad you’re reading this, that you didn’t throw my letter out, and with it any chance of us. Thank you for that.

You’ve asked for distance, and I’ve tried being respectful of that. But I also want to make a few things very, very clear. Maybe these are things you’ve been thinking about and maybe not. But for a long time, you and I communicated in riddles and games. That’s been more fun than I can express, but this is too important for that.

I did not hire you for any other reason than I thought you had potential, and I didn’t like the idea of Elliot Ferris getting away with ruining someone’s career. I did not hire you to piss him off. I did not bring you to the Founders’ Gala to show you off to him. Most importantly, I did not hire you to sleep with you.