Trigger Warning: Discussions of historical suicidal ideation in this chapter
"I found out when I was twenty-five."
Theodore Munoz sat ramrod straight in a beige wingback chair in the foyer of the resort. His long, thin fingers curled tighter around the green mug in his hand, wedding ring tapping rhythmically against the handle as he spoke. In the circle of chairs and loveseats around him, a selection of his half-sisters and half-brothers and their significant others listened quietly. The dancing orange and yellow flames of the propane fire table in the center of the cluster reflected in Theo's glasses.
"I knew I was adopted. My parents had always been upfront about that. But they lied when they told me they didn't know who my biological parents really were."
He shook his head and the movement sent a lick of thick black hair flopping in front of his eyes. He brushed it away in irritation.
"When Brady's trial began, and reporters started digging into his back story, my adoptive parents were afraid that somehow, someone would find out I was his son and get in contact with me. They wanted to make sure I heard it from them, not some journalist. It was a kindness I guess, although it didn't feel it at the time."
Perched on a loveseat a few feet away, Alex stared into her hot cocoa as she listened. Small wisps of steam curled up over the rim of her mug and then evaporated. The mini marshmallows bobbing on the surface had long lost their shape, expanding and blurring around the edges. Beside her, Bobby was as still as a statue. When she snuck a glance at him, his face was impassive. The only indication his half-brother's tale was having any impact on him whatsoever was the slight tightening of the muscles around his eyes. Most people wouldn't notice, but she did.
Theo wiped at his lips with a red paper napkin.
"I had just gotten married; we were planning to start a family. When I told my wife, the look on her face, I'll never forget it. It was like she was . . ." He paused, searching for the right word. ". . . repulsed. Afraid of me. Afraid of what I might be capable of. As if the simple act of knowing the truth had somehow turned me into a different person. A year later, we decided to separate. I felt ashamed, embarrassed and angry. I had a blow-up at work and ended up losing my job. Stopped talking to my parents. It was a bad time."
Storm clouds of emotion darkened his eyes for a moment before Theo gave his head a shake and returned to the present.
"It turned out okay though. A few years later, I met Mara and the rest is history. When I told her, right up front, about Brady, she didn't even flinch." Smiling at the woman beside him, he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Her acceptance, well, it helped me accept it, and stop being so angry. Then when I met y'all, I finally felt understood."
"That's made the biggest difference for me too," Martin agreed. The groom sat in one of the other loveseats, long legs stretched out in front of him, his hand on Daniela's knee. "The understanding. People who haven't been in our shoes don't get it. One of the guys at the office said to me once, what's the big deal? It's not like he raised you or was a part of your life. Well, that's easy to say when you're not the one with the genetics of a rapist and murderer. Nothing can change that."
There were nods of agreement around the room as the group fell into a thoughtful silence. A staffer from the resort seized that moment to sidle up to the circle with a carafe of hot cocoa, refreshing drinks and refilling the dishes of mini marshmallows. Alex declined a top-up, already feeling like her teeth were afloat in a sea of chocolate. She would regret her indulgence tomorrow when her dress was tight in all the wrong places.
When the server disappeared again, Martin glanced around the circle. "Anyone else feel like sharing their Mark Ford Brady origin story?"
To Alex's surprise, Bobby stirred, a slumbering giant awakening.
"Yeah. I will."
He had been sitting with an arm draped over the back of the loveseat and it seemed to Alex that he was extra careful not to brush against her as he shifted to lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Six years ago, I got a call from the warden at Brady's prison. Another prisoner there who is a, uh, friend of mine, had requested to meet with me."
Alex glanced around quickly, ready to defend her partner if anyone seemed disturbed or alarmed by the revelation that he had a convicted criminal as a friend. The faces surrounding them reflected only interest, not judgment, and she felt a sudden wave of gratitude for these people. Bobby deserved a support system like this.
"Brady's last appeal had been exhausted. He was scheduled to be executed in fifteen days." His gaze shifted to Alex for a brief second before floating away again. "He told Wally - uh, my friend - where we could find a scrapbook, and then later directed us to another one. They were full of pictures of women - women he had relationships with and women he, he victimized, over thirty years."
He looked compassionately at each of his half siblings then, one-by-one. "Your, your mothers, probably. A lot of them."
At this revelation, eyes dampened and significant others reached out to touch knees. Alex was tempted to lay a hand on Bobby's back herself, to provide what comfort she could through light contact, but she gripped her chipped mug more firmly instead as he continued.
"One of the pictures, I recognized it. The woman's face was degraded but the-the suit . . . my mom had one just like it. Height, hair colour, they all fit. He told me things about her, where she had lived, how often her husband was away . . . it lined up. Eventually, my mom admitted it. They had had a . . . relationship. Probably consensual at one time, until it turned violent."
His half-sister Renatta, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, gaped at him from an overstuffed leather armchair. "Did he know who you were? Or was it just coincidence?"
Bobby smiled dryly. "He knew exactly who I was, although he didn't tell me that. He had heard Wally talking about me, recognized the name. He had done work around our house when I was little. My brother Frank remembered him as 'Uncle Mark'."
He ran a finger along the marble counter that ringed the fire table as if testing for dust.
"When I visited Brady the last time, not long before he was executed, he told me that he had spent time with my mom while on leave from the army. In 1960. Nine months before I was born."
His voice cracked ever so slightly and he had to clear it twice before he could speak again.
"My mom was really sick at that time, in palliative care, terminal cancer. When I went to see her, she confirmed that there was a chance that Brady could be my father. She never knew for sure. She died shortly after that. I waited for awhile though, before I did a DNA test and . . ."
Bobby shrugged, flopping back against the loveseat again with enough force that Alex felt the vibration. ". . . well, what I already knew in my heart was confirmed."
"My God." Another of his half-sisters, Vivien, leaned over and put a hand on Bobby's arm. "You found out about Brady and lost your mom all within a few days of each other? That's terrible."
He nodded, running a hand over his chin absently. "Yeah, it was, uh, not a good time for sure. My brother had also disappeared. He is-was an addict and he started using again. Never even showed up for the funeral. I-I fell into a pit of despair that I wasn't sure I could ever get out of. Without even knowing for sure that Brady was my father in those early days, I felt like I had no clue who I was anymore, what I might be capable of. Just like Theo said."
Bobby's eyes had grown wet too and he wiped them on his forearm. Around the table, others were reaching for tissues of their own.
"In a particularly dark moment, I was sitting on my kitchen floor, thinking that I had absolutely nothing to live for. My service revolver was sitting on the island and I considered-"
He broke off then, coughing into his elbow. A tendril of anticipatory dread slithered up Alex's spine. This was a story she hadn't heard before, and she didn't like where it was heading. When Bobby spoke again, his voice was clear and soft.
". . . I considered putting it to my temple, pulling the trigger, and ending all of the pain."
Alex felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. Her entire body went numb and for a moment she couldn't breathe, her lungs compressed in an invisible vise. The room swam and if she had been standing, she wouldn't have been for much longer. She had to give her head a brief shake to bring everything back into focus.
Suicidal. Bobby had been suicidal. And she hadn't had a clue.
What kind of friend was she? How could she not have known? Why hadn't he told her?
Vivien leaned back in her chair, looking as gutted as Alex felt. "I considered suicide too. Taking a bunch of pills and just falling asleep forever. It was my kids that kept me going. What turned it around for you?"
Bobby glanced over at his partner quickly. "Well, Alex did actually."
Alex tried to school her face into a neutral expression, as if this wasn't front page news to her. She doubted she was successful because her jaw felt like it was touching the carpet. Bobby smiled lightly and perhaps a bit sheepishly at her before his attention returned to the group.
"While I was sitting on the floor, contemplating ending my, uh, my life, the phone rang. I let the machine pick it up, I just didn't care anymore. And then my cell phone rang immediately after. When I saw it was Alex calling, I couldn't . . . not answer. I was still on bereavement leave, and I knew that she wouldn't be calling unless she was checking on me or it was important. Unless she, she needed me, wanted me for something. And she did. Just that knowledge, that there was still someone out there who-who cared, who valued me, was enough to push the worst of those horrible thoughts from my mind."
Alex blushed cherry red at the chorus of warm sentiment that filled the space in response to her unwitting role as hero. She dropped her eyes to her feet and tried to keep smiling politely, even as she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the brewing emotions at bay. Thankfully, Bobby drew the attention back to himself before long.
"That's not to say that everything was suddenly fine. The next few years were still really hard. I wasn't exactly . . . stable . . . for a long time, but at least I never had the desire to use a gun on myself again. It took a lot of therapy, years later, to come to finally accept Brady as my father. It still hurts but it's better and it gets better all the time. Especially now that we've got each other."
A murmur of contented agreement went up just as the resort's concierge approached and whispered something in Martin's ear. A broad smile broke out on the groom's face as he dropped his mug on the side table and stood.
"On that heartwarming note, everyone go grab your winter gear and meet Daniela and I outside. We've got a surprise for you."
The surprise turned out to be a line of horse-drawn sleighs, curving around the resort's driveway. The sleighs were stunning, with their shiny black exteriors and silver trim. Plush red upholstery spanned the length of the three-seater bench in the back. The drivers, dressed in long grey coats and top hats, sat on the front bench, gripping tangles of leather reins. A light snow had started to fall, individual flakes frosting the horses' manes. As Bobby patted the thick neck of one of the team, he thought idly that this was probably as close to a fairy tale moment as one could ever get.
He offered a hand to help Alex step onto the high running board but she either didn't notice or ignored it, grabbing the sides of the sleigh and hauling herself up and in instead. He climbed in after her, a much easier feat thanks to his long legs. Grabbing the tan and black plaid blanket folded on the seat between them, he shook off the snow and draped it over his thighs. When he held up the other side, eyebrows raised in question, she nodded and he spread it over her legs as well.
They waited in silence as the rest of the passengers hopped up into the sleighs in front and behind. Alex's lips were pressed together tightly and she stared off into the darkness to the right. She had been distant all day, barely speaking two words to him and spending the entire rehearsal dinner in animated, flirty conversation with another man, but the chasm between them had seemed to grow even deeper in the last hour.
Not that he blamed her. He had made a complete ass of himself, coming on to her last night. He had had too much to drink, and seeing her in that robe, hair wet and skin flushed pink from the hot water, well, baser needs had taken over and he had flirted with her with all the skill of a fumbling teenager.
Are you making a pass at me?
The memory made him cringe. He was an idiot. She had a boyfriend. She had been clear about that and a true friend would have had the decency to respect the boundary. He hadn't and now it would be up to him to figure out if they could salvage this weekend. He wasn't holding his breath.
The sleigh jerked slightly as it kicked into motion, pressing them back into the soft cushions. The processional struck out on a meandering route through the resort's cross-country trails. String lights, interspersed with hanging lanterns, wound through the trees and lit the way. The bells on the horses' harnesses jingled as they alternated between a smooth walk and a slow trot. The skids cut effortlessly through the base of crisp white snow. Beside him, Alex still stared mutely off into the distance, arms hugging her midsection, gloved hands grasping elbows. It was clearly going to be up to him to break the ice.
No time like the present.
Clearing his throat, Bobby twisted on the seat to face his partner. The cold air nipped at the end of his nose and numbed his lips, slurring his words ever so slightly.
"I, uh, owe you an apology."
He wasn't sure that she had even heard him at first. She didn't move an inch for what felt like forever until finally, slowly, turning her head to look at him. When she still didn't speak, he found himself rushing on before the silence became awkward again.
"Last night. I was in-inappropriate." Bobby drew the blanket a little higher up on his legs. "I feel horrible that I made you uncomfortable. That I wasn't respectful of your relationship with Warren. It won't happen again."
To his astonishment, Alex simply nodded and then looked away again. He wasn't sure exactly what he had been expecting – a biting retort maybe? – but it sure hadn't been this passive acceptance. It threw him for a loop and he frowned, suddenly more ill at ease than he had been before the apology. Then he noticed that her eyes shone in the dim light and moisture had gathered at the corners of her lids.
"Hey." Bending at the waist, Bobby tilted his head to one side curiously. When she didn't immediately respond, he took a gamble and touched her shoulder lightly. "Are you okay?"
There was a bone deep sadness etched in the lines of her face when she eventually met his eyes again.
"I didn't know you were suicidal. You never told me."
Sighing, he straightened. "I didn't tell anyone. I had no intention of ever telling anyone. I'm not sure what came over me tonight. I guess I just felt . . . safe."
"Oh." Alex flinched visibly, hurt pinching the sides of her mouth. "You didn't feel safe with me?"
Bobby shook his head vehemently. "No, Alex, no. It's not that. I was just embarrassed. That I wasn't strong enough to-to manage. That I would even contemplate . . . that. I didn't want you to think less of me."
"Bobby, I never would have thought less of you," Alex said softly, tugging at a fraying thread of the blanket. "You had been through hell. I have no clue what I would have contemplated if I had been in your shoes. I just wish I had known how much you were struggling so I could have tried to help."
"You did. Without even knowing it, you were there for me when I needed you the most." Bobby's smile quivered tremulously as he touched her chin lightly with his thumb. "You saved me."
Alex stared at him for a long, long time before sliding across the bench seat and laying her head on his shoulder. He hugged her close, resting his cheek against her hair. The warmth of her breath against his neck made him shiver. He could smell the resort's soap on her skin combined with her own unique scent. When she turned her face up to his, snowflakes melting on her eyelashes, lips slightly parted, the wave of desire that washed through him was almost suffocating.
"Alex . . ."
His voice was rough with warning. He knew he should release her, push her back, move away before he did something stupid, but it was too late. The die had already been cast. Perhaps it had been from the moment they first met.
Leaning down, Bobby brushed his lips over her cheek and then his mouth slid over hers and they were kissing. It was sweet, so very damn sweet. She made a noise of encouragement and he kissed her harder, tangling his hands in her hair. Alex clutched at him through his coat and the quiet moan that escaped her throat made him completely mindless. They kissed, licked, and nibbled, completely lost in each other, until the need to breathe forced them apart. As they both gasped for air, he traced her swollen lips with his fingertips and then slid them down her neck to touch her jackhammering pulse.
"Your heart is racing."
Alex rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Yeah. Geez. Wonder why."
And then she kissed him again. The blanket slipped off their legs and pooled on the bottom of the sleigh but neither noticed. Her mouth was warm and when her tongue brushed against his, he thought he had died and gone to heaven. As they drew apart for the second time, he couldn't wipe the idiotic grin off his face. In contrast, she grew serious, cupping his cheek with a hand. Her chin was red and irritated from the repeated brush of his stubble.
"I want you to sleep in my room tonight."
With that whispered invitation, all the blood from Bobby's head immediately rushed south. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, and his breathing became ragged. The potential of a night in a soft warm bed with the women he loved in his arms, beneath him, was like the glowing lure of an anglerfish. It was nearly impossible to resist, but he had to. Although he wanted nothing more in the world than to take her to bed, he couldn't. She wasn't his to take.
"I don't think that's a good idea." The same regret that churned in his stomach laced his words.
Alex didn't appear shocked or hurt by the rejection, merely resigned. With a sigh, she slid away and dropped her hands into her lap. "Look, I think last night proved that we want each other. We shouldn't, maybe, but we do. I'm tired of fighting it. Aren't you?"
Bobby exhaled slowly, tugging his gloves on tighter as if that would prevent him from drawing her close again. "You know that I am."
She shrugged, palms up. "Then what are we waiting for? Why don't we just get it out of our systems?"
That flip comment felt like a slap across the face. Frank had said something similar years ago. Bobby had been irate at the insinuation then; now he was just hurt. He fought hard to keep his expression clear of injury however and his tone mild.
"Is that what it would be to you? Just a-a roll in the hay to get it over with?"
Around them, the forest started to thin out and recede. The horses shook their heads, bells jingling as they began the steady ascent up the slope that would take their passengers back to the resort. The snow had stopped and as the cold deepened, ice crystals glinted on the surface.
Alex pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's not what I-."
"Because that's not what it would be to me," Bobby interrupted, massaging the back of his neck roughly. "It would be so much more than that. I'm not interested in a weekend fling. And that's all it could be, because you already have someone filling the role in your life that I-I want. Are you telling me that you would be okay with being unfaithful to Warren?"
"No." Sighing, Alex tucked her hands under her thighs. "You're right. I wouldn't."
He nodded but couldn't help but feel disappointed by the validation. He angrily shoved that emotion away. It hadn't originated from the head on his shoulders, that was for sure.
"I didn't think so. That's not who you are. And I would never want to be a part of making you any less than who you are."
The sleigh came to a halt under the resort's portico. The bright overhead lights seemed harsh after the soft illumination through the forest. Voices from the other sleighs became audible as the guests began to disembark and head back into the foyer. Bobby was about to stand and follow suit when he felt Alex's hand on his arm.
"Look, there's something I need to tell you. About Warren and I." She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, fingers tightening on his forearm. "And I don't think you're going to be happy about it."
His heart went into freefall then, gut twisting and blood running cold. A range of possibilities that he would not be happy about relating to Alex and Warren started to cycle through his mind at warp speed.
They were moving in together.
They were moving away.
They were engaged.
They were married.
They were having a baby.
All of those options made him want to be physically ill. He had no confidence that he could stomach this news and still go on with the rest of the weekend.
Fortunately, Martin saved him.
"Hey you two."
They both jumped when the groom knocked loudly on the sleigh's chassis and peeked over the side, grinning widely.
"Hot toddies in the lounge. You're the last ones out. Let's go."
When he disappeared from sight, Bobby stood quickly, nearly tripping over the blanket that still sat crumpled on the floor of the sleigh. He didn't bother trying to pick it up, deciding in bitterness to leave it laying there in a heap, along with what was left of his heart.
"It's freezing out here. Let's get inside. We can talk later, okay?"
He stepped onto the sleigh's running board and then hopped down to the ground, jerking the collar of his coat up against the cold and striking out determinedly toward the resort's glass doors. This time, he didn't bother waiting to offer her a hand.