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Elliot’s stance softened infinitesimally. “It wasn’t intended as a punch. Not to you, anyway. My point was, it drove me crazy knowing you were halfway across the country with a man I couldn’t trust to keep you cared for.”
Dropping my eyes to my bag, I resumed unpacking. “Well, you were right about him, and now I’m back here, under your watch.”
“My caring for you shouldn’t make you angry. If Dad were here, he would be saying the same things I am.”
“He might, but he would do it gently.”
“Unfortunately for you, I didn’t take after him in the gentleness department. He gave all of that to you.”
I looked at my brother, sucking in a breath. He really was so good to me. It was unfair for me to be grumpy because he’d interrupted what Weston and I shouldn’t have been doing anyway.
“You don’t need to be gentle to be good, which you are, El. Thanks for giving a shit.”
“Always, El.” He crossed to me and picked up my emptied bag, placing it on the highest shelf in my closet. His version of a warm hug. “Now, what terrible movie are you going to make me watch with you?”
Monday morning, there was a Post-it waiting for me on my desk. I laughed out loud when I read it.
Fratricide is the act of killing one’s own brother.
So Weston was still grumpy about being interrupted by Elliot. To be fair, I still regretted it as well, but murder hadn’t crossed my mind.
With a grin, I typed up an email to my boss.
From:[email protected]
Dear Grumpy Boss,
I’m concerned about a sticky note on my desk this morning.
You might have an employee contemplating acts of violence against their own sibling. Why would one do such a thing? I can’t think of a possible reason.
On another note, my own brother spent the night at my apartment after I got him drunk on White Russians and made him watch zombie flicks. A good time was had by…well, not all. Mostly me.
I hope the rest of your weekend was equally fun.
Wishfully,
Elise
After that, I was buried under piles of work, only stopping to have lunch with Rebecca and Simon and to shoo Miles away from my desk. Periodically, I checked my emails, but since I’d received no response, I imagined Weston was five times as busy as I was.
By the end of the day, I submitted my first story to Salma and had prepped my notes to write another one. I was shutting down my computer when an email came in.
From:[email protected]
Dear Elise,
That does sound concerning. Might you have mistaken the intended subject of violence? Perhaps you should be looking closer to home.
One can’t help wondering, what was your first reaction when you read the Post-it?
As for your other subject, my weekend started off hot but ended up cold and lonely. I’m happy yours was more enjoyable than mine. You deserve it after how hard I worked you on our trip.
Have you recovered?
