Page 9 of Conflagration
Shane’s also the only one who knows I hired a private investigator to keep tabs on Knox. At first, I told myself I was doing it for Mom, the guilt of her devastation resting heavily on my blackening soul. But I know it’s not just for Mom. I live for the reports. To see how he’s faring, and so far, military life seems to suit him. Maybe I did him a favor after all.
“He just got back from a tour in Iraq. The letters I’ve sent through the P.I. have all been returned unopened. He wants nothing to do with me.”Do you blame him?
Shane sighs sadly. “Can’t say I blame him,” he says, giving voice to my thought.
“Yeah, well, what’s done is done. At least, after today, I can say I didn’t fuck it all up for nothing, right?” I try to joke, but it falls flat.
Before he can respond, the door opens and my youngest brother, Cohen, comes in. Shane gives me one last look and then leaves, but not before I see the shaking of his head.
“Mom says it’s time to line up,” he tells me, watching as I take one last swig of scotch. His eyebrow rises. “Are you sure you want to go through with this, Bran? You seem kind of on edge. Hell, you’ve been on edge for weeks.”
I plaster on a fake smile and slap him on the shoulder. “Pre-wedding jitters, kid. I’m sure it’s normal for any groom.”
“If you say so,” he says, not sounding convinced.
“Kid, you’re fourteen years old. You have a lot to learn. Trust me, I couldn’t be happier. I’m about to marry my beautiful bride, and in twenty-four hours, we’ll be lying on the beach, enjoying our honeymoon. Now let’s go. We don’t want to keep Mom waiting.”
I push him out the door and take one last look in the mirror. Both Shane’s and Cohen’s questions replay over in my mind, but I quickly push them away.
Here’s to the first day of the rest of my life.
Present
THE LAST thought replays in my mind as I come back into semi consciousness. The first day of the rest of my life? More like the beginning of the end.
Shane had been right all along. I lived the job. Breathed the job. Megan and I ended up more like roommates than anything, and that was partially my fault. It’s on me. But even still, when I caught her red-handed—or, well, dick-handed—I wasn’t angry. I was humiliated. Even more so when she blamed it all on me. But not because of my long work hours.
No, she hit me with the lowest blow possible. According to her, I’m not my brother. Nor will I ever be. The worst part? She was right. Now that Knox is back into the family fold, I know it’s true. He’s the good guy I’ll never be. I see it at every family function, every holiday, every single damn brunch that he and Charlie come to. All that time wasted thinking he was going to take something from me. Yet, in the end, I won.
But in reality, Knox has more than I could ever imagine. And at this point, more than I’ll ever deserve. In the game of life, Knox has won. And since he already hated me, I figured I’d do one last thing to make sure he’d remain the winner. That his happily ever after was just that. And even though I succeeded, all it did was push him even further away from me.
As the scene comes into view, I suddenly feel like Ebenezer Scrooge, like some unseen Ghost of Christmas Past is here to haunt me and show me the error of my ways. The thing is that I’m already painfully aware of all the mistakes I’ve made. Of every time I’ve made a wrong turn in my life. Of every single decision that has affected me and those around me negatively. I don’t need the reminder, but apparently, this ghost has a difference of opinion, because I’m back there again. To the place where I nearly sealed the nail on the coffin in my dying relationship with Knox.
September 2013
“DO YOU think your brother’s going to show up?” she asks, sounding a little too excited at the thought.
With a sigh, I adjust my tie and look over at my wife, who’s been spending a noticeable amount of extra time on her hair and makeup. I walk over to her and place my arms around her waist, my lips kissing her neck. “You look gorgeous, Megan,” I tell her, feeling a little guilty that I’ve been gone for the last two weeks on business.
She brings up hand up and pats my arm. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen me in a while. You’ll get used to me again,” she says as she turns in my arms.
I lean in for a kiss, wondering if I can sneak in a quickie before we have to leave, but she turns her head at the last minute, my lips planting a firm kiss on her cheek.
“We don’t have time Branson. Plus, I don’t want to ruin my makeup.”
“Come on, Megan.” I tug playfully on her arm, but she just glares at me. “It’s been weeks. I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, get real, Branson. You live for your business trips. You probably didn’t even notice I wasn’t around. Now, can we please leave? I need at least two glasses of champagne before I want to start dealing with your mother about when we’re going to have children.”
“We’d have to sleep together for that to happen,” I mutter under my breath, but either she doesn’t hear me or she just ignores my comment.
Without a response, she exits our room, and I just stare after her. She has a point. I don’t know if it’s that I missed Megan or if I missed the thought of her. Or, hell, just a warm body in my bed.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve kept up my end of the infidelity clause from the prenup. But it’s becoming increasingly harder to be intimate with someone who seems to want nothing to do with me. Maybe she’s right. I tell myself that I’m accepting to go on all the trips to prove to Dad that I’m ready to step up and take on more responsibility. But maybe it’s also to get away from her. That thought alone should make me feel like shit. And it does—for a split second, until Megan pops her head back in, asking once again about Knox.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Ever since Knox’s accident, she’s been increasingly curious about him. She acts as if she’s just a concerned sister-in-law, but I’m not an idiot. If I know my wife—and despite the cavern that’s growing between us, I know her—she’s in the “what if” phase of life right now. And you know what? That would make two of us.
But before I can continue to dwell on it, my phone vibrates and I see a text from Cohen telling me that Knox has, indeed, arrived. And he’s not alone. Too bad for Megan. This should be fun.
