Alex harrumphs. “Yeah, his actions these past few weeks really showed that,” he sneers.
“I’m not defending the man,” Dad continues, “but I think he should be given an opportunity to explain himself before everyone throws shade. I believe he was sincere at the hospital, and let’s not forget the part Simon played in all of this.”
“I have never wanted to dig up a body to whale on it more in my life,” Mom says, and it helps to ease some of the tension.
Giggles bubble up my throat, and I don’t fight them, setting them free. It’s too funny hearing Mom say such things. “I say we dig him up, piss on his bones, then pour acid over him, and watch him disintegrate into nothing but ash that flitters away in the wind,” I add, accepting a vodka cranberry from my bestie.
“Creative.” Audrey kisses my cheek. “And a little bloodthirsty. I approve.” She leans into Alex, and he slides his arm around her.
I look away, unable to bear witness to their love, which makes me feel like a bitter bitch. It’s funny. I remember feeling a lot like this when I first fled to Ireland after Reeve had broken my heart. I thought every loving couple, every PDA, was going to kill me until Dillon helped me to heal. It might not have been real on his end, but at least he gave me that much.
“How could Simon keep so much from us? From me?” Dad shakes his head. “I thought we were friends, but I never knew the man. Not really.”
“Come on, Jon. The friendship was tentative, at best, after Felicia died. He pulled away from us, and all the respect I’d had for him evaporated with his neglectful treatment of his son. Then to find out he’d given Reeve’s twin away.” Sadness ghosts over her face. “Look at what he set in motion. All the pain his actions have caused. Dillon was wrong to direct that anger at Reeve, but I can fully understand his feelings toward Simon. What Simon did to him was unforgivable.”
Silence descends for a few minutes. “It doesn’t change anything though,” I say in between sips of my vodka. “And I’m the one left to pick up the pieces.” I glance out the window, spotting Easton and his best friend Nash playing in the playground.
“The wrong twin died,” Alex says, a muscle popping in his jaw. “Reeve was innocent in all of this, but Dillon knew what he was doing. If anyone had to die, it should’ve been him.”
“Thanks for that,” a familiar husky voice says, and I whip my head around, spotting Dillon and Ash standing in the doorway with the rest of their family in the hallway outside. “Don’t hold back on my account,” he adds, striding into the room.
15
VIVIEN
“Alex!” Audrey hisses, elbowing him in the ribs. “You should apologize.”
“I’m not apologizing for speaking my mind,” her husband says, glaring at Dillon as the O’Donoghues file into the room. They aren’t all here. It’s just Ash, Jamie, Ro, Cath, and Eugene. I know the rest of the family is here somewhere, because Mom confirmed they were at the funeral. Ciarán, Shane, their wives, and kids, too. The only people missing are Ronan’s girlfriend and their baby daughter. I don’t know if they purposely stayed away, for my benefit, or some other reason. I’m touched everyone else came, but I’m sure it was more to support their brother than me. No doubt, they all know about Easton and they are keen to meet him.
“It’s fine, Audrey,” Dillon says. “He’s loyal to Reeve. I get it.”
Dillon is wearing a black suit with a black shirt and tie to match his black soul. The usual rings and piercings adorn his hands and face. His hair flops in brown waves over his brow, and I’m grateful he didn’t style it like Reeve usually did. I know I mistook him for Reeve at the hospital, but I’m chalking that up to stress and a drugged-up hallucination. Now when I look at him, I see glimpses of Reeve, but he’s wholly Dillon.
“It’s not fine,” Ash says, working hard to rein her anger in. She walks right up to Alex. “I understand if you hate my brother, even if you don’t know him and you’re not privy to all the facts. We’re all pretty pissed off with him right now too. But to say you wish he had died instead is horrible. Nobody should have to hear what you just said.”
Two red spots appear on Alex’s cheeks. “You’re right,” he grits out, lifting his head and eyeballing Dillon. “I don’t like you. For a lot of reasons, but that was harsh and uncalled for. I apologize.”
Dillon shrugs, eyeballing Alex in return. Cath glares at her son, and Dillon purses his lips before running a hand through his hair. “Apology accepted,” he begrudgingly says.
It’s fair to say there will never be any love lost between those two men.
Mom stands, ushering Mr. and Mrs. O’Donoghue over to the couches, making them sit down. She calls Charlotte via the intercom, asking her to bring some food and drinks to my office.
“We’re sorry for barging in here like this,” Cath says, narrowing her eyes at Dillon. “We know this is a very harrowing time, and we’re so sorry for your loss, Vivien. So incredibly sorry.” Tears well in her eyes as she leans across Mom to hug me. “We’ve missed you, and I hate we are meeting under these tragic circumstances, but we felt it best to speak when we are all in the one place. There are things we should discuss.”
Dillon and Ronan move the chairs from the front of my desk over beside us for Audrey and Ash to sit down. Dillon, Alex, Ronan, and Jamie all stand to one side. Dillon’s eyes drift to the window, instantly locking on Easton. Pain splinters through my chest, along with other indecipherable emotions.
“I’m not sure Vivien is up to discussing this right now.” Mom drags me back into the conversation.
“It’s fine,” I say, my voice devoid of emotion again. “Might as well get all the breaking done in one day.”
Dillon jerks his head around at my words, staring intensely at me, in the way he always does. I avert my eyes, knocking back a few mouthfuls of vodka, needing the liquid courage.
“We had no idea Reeve had a brother,” Mom says, addressing Cath. “Felicia was my best friend, but she didn’t know she was expecting twins, and Simon said nothing to us afterwards.” Anger flares in her eyes. “I am curious though. How did Dillon end up being adopted by you?” Mom slides her arm around my back for support.
Charlotte enters the room, depositing sandwiches, cookies, cake, and tea and coffee on the table, along with plates and napkins. I thank her, and we wait for her to leave before the conversation resumes.
“My Eugene is adopted,” Cath begins explaining, patting her husband’s thigh. “And when we got married, we decided we would like to adopt too. But Shane and Ciarán came along quickly, and we shelved the idea while they were young. My sister Eileen was working with an international adoption agency based in London. She let us know they were looking for a family for an American baby and asked if we wanted to apply. We almost declined. Aisling was only a year old, but we both felt a calling in our hearts.” She looks over at Dillon, smiling. “We just knew this was the child for us, so we processed the paperwork, met with representatives of the agency in Dublin, and a month later, we were waiting at the ferry in Dun Laoghaire to collect our beautiful baby boy.”