I nod, rising from my chair and smoothing down my modest black dress. It’s a far cry from my usual style, but I figured I better dress the part before I face my brother. Every detail will matter, and I need to prove to him that I’m not making a reckless, spur-of-the-moment suggestion.

I join Ivy at the door, and she gives my arm a reassuring squeeze before we walk down the hall in silence. It’s strange being back in this house. It’s the home I grew up in, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore. It feels like Ivy belongs here, and I never did, and surprisingly, I’m okay with that.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Ivy asks as we pause outside Santi’s study.

“No.” I offer her a grateful smile. “This is my battle. I want him to see that I’m capable of fighting it on my own.”

“I understand.” She nods. “I’ll wait for you upstairs.”

With that, she leaves me, and I steel myself as I draw in a long breath and knock on the door.

“Come in,” Santi calls from the other side.

My fingers tremble slightly on the knob, but I don’t give in to the desire to hesitate before stepping inside. My brother is at his desk, waiting for me with an expression I’ve come to know well. It’s the same expression my father wore when he was disappointed. And in some ways, that’s always been difficult for me. Because I love my brother, but I am haunted by his similarities in appearance to the man who broke me down so brutally.

Santi would never physically hurt me. Not intentionally. But he unknowingly produces the same undercurrent of fear in me at times. For most of my life, I have tried to make him proud. I never wanted to let him down because I was afraid if I did, the consequences would be too severe. Yet, even as I face him presently, noting the lingering tide of anger in his features, I know one thing without a doubt. He loves me, and I love him. Regardless of everything that has happened, or what may come, that one thing is undeniable. So with that in mind, I hold my head high, and I begin.

“I know you probably expected me to come here and atone for my sins, brother. You’re disappointed in me, and for that, I am sorry. But I’m not sorry for what happened. I’m not sorry that I fell in love with a man, even if he doesn’t love me back. And I’m not sorry that I’ll have his children and raise them on my own.”

Santi shifts, his brow furrowing, but he doesn’t respond, so I continue.