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“Do you think it was a charade? A brief escape to go and fuck him somewhere?”
His face turns crimson, and he bolts upright from his chair.
“I never said that! I never even thought—I...”
He brushes his hair on his forehead.
“Damn it, this is not how this conversation was supposed to go.”
“Sit down, Richard.”
“We both know that certain things happen everywhere. It is just that some have the prudence to conceal them better,” he sits again. “That is what I meant to say.”
I lean toward him.
“Do you conceal yourself with equal prudence?”
He stiffens. “W-what do you mean?”
“Have you hidden yourself well?”
“I do not understand what you are talking about.”
“Because, to my eyes, Richard, you do not seem so cautious at all.”
“Furthermore...”
“Furthermore?” I prompt him.
“Truly... he... you know well who he is.”
“I know,” I answer without hesitation.
“You know how he enjoys maneuvering Isobel, you know what kind of man he is. How can you—”
“I thought he was your friend.”
He grows animated, his face coloring, his voice cracking.
“He is, but you are dearer to me! There is no comparison, Evander. I do not want—”
I let out a short, dry laugh.
“For me to end up with a broken heart? Listen to me closely, Richard: I. am. not. your. sister.”
He furrows his brow.
“Feelings cloud one’s judgment.”
“What feelings are you prattling on about?”
“You may say so now, but the day will come when it will be too late to pretend you did not understand.”
“Have you understood it?”
He rises abruptly, the chair scraping the floor again.
“It is not me we are discussing!”
