Esther lowered herself into her black Cadillac, then waved out the window as she pulled down the driveway, dust kicking up behind her.
“There is something going on with her,” Abe said as they watched Esther drive away.
“Yeah.” Asher nodded.
“That is why I need you to fix this,” he said, motioning back to the house.
“It’s not that simple.”
“I know, but we both know you’re going to forgive her.”
“Because I physically don’t have a choice . . .”
That was the thing about being a protector: once you found your mate, you have a biological imperative to make them safe and happy. He couldn’t fight it, no matter how mad he was.
“You’re telling me that you would write off Sunny completely if you could.”
He huffed out a breath, pulled out his hair tie, and retied his bun.
“That’s what I thought. Be as mad as you need to be but please try and move past it. I can’t handle both you and Esther being like this. One of you is bad enough.”
“I’m not the one who left,” Asher said.
“Who are you referring to? Esther or Sunny?”
“Both of them! They both left. They left us here.”
“They did.”
“And you’re not pissed about it?”
“What good does it do?” Abe shrugged.
“Well . . . you’re a better man than me. Let’s get this put together,” he said, picking up spindles.
“Asher . . .”
He stopped and turned to his brother, who was looking more and more like their father every day.
“You’re not only hurting yourself by staying away from her.”
Asher glared at him.
“Look, I was a miserable fuck for years after Esther left. You know that. They’re both back. It’s all in your court now.”
“It’s not the same. Esther was your sister, not your mate. And now you have your mate,” he grumbled, slamming the bed of his truck shut.
“So do you.”
Done with this conversation, he walked into the house where Sunny was still on the couch, going through a box. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look up and smile at him, but he couldn’t do this. He would fix this staircase, then leave.
They worked in silence and put the banister back together. Abe stopped to talk to Sunny, but Asher shifted, tossed his clothes in the back of his brother’s truck, and headed for the woods.
Later that night, Asher made his way down to the Corner Tap. He checked the parking lot for a ridiculous campervan, and when he didn’t see it, he made his way in.
It was a Tuesday evening, so no one was there except the regulars. They were the kind of people who would just let him drink himself into a stupor . . . which is just what he felt like doing.
After sidling up to the bar, he ordered a whiskey, stared at the amber liquid in the glass, and swirled it before taking a drink. He shot it back and set it a little too heavily on the counter.