I could hear Ivo laughing in his study. He was on the phone to Isabel and each time she called he would use the phone in his office to talk to her, shutting the door behind him in a not so subtle 'Do not disturb'.
I turned the volume of the TV up slightly higher to drown out the sound of Ivo talking animatedly about things I was not privy to hear. I was sorely tempted to eavesdrop but then I would feel guilty about it and no doubt Ivo would pick up on it.
The phone call ended shortly after and I huffed when he sat next to me on the sofa and pulled my legs into his lap before reaching out to play with my hair.
"What's wrong," he asked, his good mood slowly ebbing away as it became clear that I was in a bad one.
"Nothing."
"There's obviously something."
I gave a sharp huff then.
"You always close the door when you talk to Isabel. I mean it's bad enough that you talk about me without making it obvious," I whined and pulled away from his touch. He stared at me, his eyes moving between each of mine as he looked.
"I only close the door so that I don't disturb you."
"Mmm," I hummed, disbelieving.
"Do you talk about me," I pried, trying to seem nonchalant but seeming defiant instead.
"Yes. Quite a bit in fact. I confide in her despite all that has happened. She is my sister and she understands that I want what is best for you. So she helps me to understand when I am doing things wrong."
I hadn't been expecting such a direct answer. But then again, that's how Ivo was; direct and to the point. I was the one who danced around with subtle hints and clues that no one could ever understand.
In the first instant I felt shame for having been so childish and then after that I felt envy. I wanted to have what Ivo had, someone who no matter what they did would still be obliged to love you. Then I felt shame once again for having felt the envy.
"Like what?"
"What do you mean?"
"What do you do wrong?"
I waited for his answer, looking at him expectantly; innocently.
"Tim, don't play silly games."
"No, I want to know."
"You already know," he said angrily and he shifted back in the seat, his eyebrows half raised.
"You told her everything," I ventured, not even sure if I wanted an answer to that. I suppose I just wanted to test him to see if he would.
He hesitated.
"Yes."
"Oh."
"She's my sister, she wants me to be happy and in order for that to be possible I have to have you," he smiled. I didn't return it.
"But when I confide in Martin it's not okay?"
There was a long silence.
"That's different."
"Why?"
"Martin was my colleague, my friend," Ivo practically spat out.
"Isabel was my lover," I retorted and I flinched when his hand reached out as if to slap me. He stopped himself though. The embodiment of self control.
Drawing his hand back he smoothed it over his tensed features, rubbing at his temples and trying to regain calm over the situation.
"Don't be so childish," he said eventually.
"I'm not being childish."
"You're right," he replied. "You're being hateful."
He pushed my legs from his lap then and stood, turning to face me.
"I'm really trying to understand you Tim. I know you had a hard time growing up, no one should have to go through what you did and no one should feel like they can't confide in someone. But I have always and will continue to talk to my sister and I need for you to understand that I'm not playing games. I'm not trying to push you away or shut you out. I don't want to keep secrets from you or conspire against you. Please stop trying to make me the enemy."
I sat with my cheeks burning as he went to take a shower. I picked at my sleeve so much I was surprised it didn't simply fray to nothingness.
I certainly felt like I had.