The park is quiet when I get there, the early morning sun barely stretching over the tops of the trees. Nathaniel is already waiting on a bench, his hands folded, looking every bit the polished lawyer he is. It still feels strange seeing him this way—buttoned-up, controlled—when I remember the scrappy kid who used to chase me through the neighborhood.

He stands as I approach, offering a nod. “Jase.”

“Nate.” I use the name he hates, still very much like the little brother I am. After what I’ve gone through, is there any question that I continue to remind him of the animosity I carry like a shield?

We sit in silence for a moment, the tension settling in like a third person between us. Then he clears his throat. “I just wanted to give you a status update on things.”

“Please. The walking on eggshells for the past three months is getting a little old.”

“Are you really walking on them though?” Nathaniel asks with a look on his face that I can’t quite read.

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. I talk to Sammy too, seeing as I’m the one writing his checks for you.”

“Your point?”

“You’re with Hendrix. A lot.”

“She’s my wife, right? Isn’t this what we were trying to accomplish? That everyone, including her bodyguard, sees that.”

“Hmm.”

“Just fucking say whatever you’re not saying.”

“I don’t know. Maybe Judge Watkins is right.”

“Fuck that and fuck you.” I shove up out of the seat. What the fuck is this shit about?

“And he still acts out when he doesn’t want to face facts,” Nathaniel murmurs.

I whip around and glare at him. It’s too early for this shit, and the last thing I want to do is throw a punch at my brother. “And what facts do I not want to face?”

“That she’s a good match for you. That the urge to go out and get shitfaced in a club is different now because you’d rather stay home and laugh with her.”

“You don’t know the first thing about my life, Nathaniel.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I wasn’t allowed to. First, because Dad took me and then because you hate me because he did.”

“We’re not doing this right now. I came here to see if there was an update about my case, if you’d talked to the judge. Can we stick with that?”

Nathaniel studies me, the muscles pulsing in his jaw. But I can see when he decides to let the fight go. Thank fuck for that.