Page 62 of Take Two

“I’m guessing you’re Jacques.”

He grins, leaning back on the lounge chair with a satisfied groan. “Guilty.”

I smile back, turning my head toward him in a lazy roll, enjoying the warmth of the sun against my face. “You’ve got your brother’s face,” I observe, taking in the familiar bone structure, the way his smile tilts slightly higher on the left side.

“My mother says I got the better personality.” His smile widens mischievously, and I can see Jamie in that expression, the same hint of playful arrogance that somehow manages to be endearing rather than off-putting.

“I’ll reserve judgment,” I reply with a huff of amusement.

His laugh comes easily, rich and unguarded, as he crosses his ankles and sighs contentedly. We both turn our attention toward the water, watching another boat drift lazily across the Sound, its white sail catching the breeze like something out of a postcard. The moment stretches comfortably between us before he gestures toward the backyard with an easy sweep of his hand, encompassing the organized chaos of his extended family.

“Welcome to the chaos that is the Maxwell family.”

I can’t help it, my smile grows bigger, threatening to split my face in half. If I smile any wider, my cheeks might actually cramp. “No.” I shake my head, still grinning. “This is great.”

“It is?” Jacques asks dubiously, eyeing me like I might be suffering from heat stroke.

“My family’s nothing like this.” The words come easily, without the usual tightness in my chest that discussing my family typically brings. There’s something about this afternoon, this place, that makes honesty feel safer than it usually does.

He glances over, genuine curiosity replacing the teasing glint in his eyes.

“No?”

I shake my head again, watching as someone across the yard attempts an elaborate dive that results in more splash than grace.

“It’s quieter, definitely more structured. Every family gathering I’ve ever been to feels more like an orchestrated soirée than. . .” I motion toward the backyard where somebody has just cannonballed into the pool to a chorus of cheering and good-natured heckling. “. . . whatever this wonderfully organized chaos is.”

Jacques laughs, the sound mixing with the ambient noise of his family’s celebration. “Yeah. That sounds about right. We’re loud, we’re messy, but we all genuinely enjoy each other’s company.”

I watch Jamie from across the yard as he throws his head back in laughter at something his father says, his whole body relaxed in a way I rarely see when we’re in public together. There’s no performance here, no careful management of image or expectation. Just a man comfortable in his own skin, surrounded by people who love him exactly as he is.

“Enough about me.” I nod toward Jacques, shifting the conversation away from territory that still feels tender. “Your brother tells me you’re heading into your last year at the university before medical school.”

His entire face lights up like I’ve just handed him the keys to his dream car. “That’s the plan.”

“I hear congratulations are in order.”

“I hope so,” he says, blowing out a breath that’s equal parts anticipation and nervous energy. The expression on his face takes me back years. I remember that feeling, that mixture of excitement and terror that comes with standing on the threshold of everything you’ve worked toward. Despite everything that happened with my mother, despite the pressure and the expectations, I knew my achievements were worth celebrating at the time. The pride was real, even if the dream wasn’t entirely my own.

I smile, meaning it completely. “I’m sure they are.”

Jacques hesitates for a moment, his attention drifting toward the water where another sailboat glides quietly across the Sound, its wake barely disturbing the surface. The afternoon light catches the water just right, turning it into something that looks almost ethereal. When he finally speaks, there’s a weight to his voice that wasn’t there before.

“Can I ask you something?”

I glance over at him and smile, recognizing the shift in tone. “You just did.”

He laughs softly, shaking his head at the old joke. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” The words come out gentler than I intended, because I can see he’s working up to something important.

He grows thoughtful, his easy smile fading into something more sincere, more searching. The silence stretches between us, comfortable but charged with anticipation.

“How could you do it?”

I raise an eyebrow in question, even though I have a sinking feeling I know exactly where this conversation is headed.

“Walk away.”