Page 235 of Reckless Obsession

“This is awkward,” I say.

Anton glances at me, one dark eyebrow lifting. “You mean us walking beside each other?”

“No.” I look straight ahead. “The silence.”

For a second, his expression does not change. Then the faintest hint of amusement pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“You are the one who has been avoiding conversations.”

“I have not been avoiding you.”

Anton gives me a look, and I sigh.

We reach the front doors. One of the guards opens them before either of us touches the handle. The cool evening air hits us as we step out into the front courtyard, walking down the stone steps towards where my car is parked on the curved gravel driveway.

Then Anton speaks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I stop.

He stops with me.

For a moment, we face each other beneath the lights of the estate.

“Tell you what?” I ask.

Anton’s expression stays calm, but something wounded flickers beneath it.

“Don’t insult me by making me spell it out.” He folds his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had feelings for my brother?”

The question lands with more force than I expect.

“And when did it start?” he adds. “When did you start looking at Maksim and deciding you wanted more than whatever you were pretending you had?”

“I realized it late,” I say finally.

Anton’s eyes remain on mine.

“Late is not an answer.”

“I mean it. I realized I had feelings for him late,” I answer honestly. “Much later than I should have. And even when I finally admitted it to myself, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. Part of me was afraid you wouldn’t understand. Part of me was afraid you’d disapprove.”

Anton lets out a dry, incredulous scoff, shaking his head.

“We’ve been friends since we were two, Tristan,” Anton says, his voice cutting through the cold night. “Even when I was out of the country—even when things were unstable and I wasn’t living in the States full-time—our friendship never changed. We’ve had each other’s backs more times than I can count. We’ve buried bodies and cleaned up messes together.”

He takes a half-step closer, his expression darkening with serious concern.

“So fine, let’s say you kept your feelings for Maksim quiet because you were confused or worried about how I’d take it. Why the hell didn’t you tell me that Jake was blackmailing you? You knew he had evidence that could destroy Maksim, and you kept it entirely to yourself.”

“I was handling it,” I reply, my voice dropping. “I was working on getting it resolved quietly. I didn’t want to turn it into an explosive war before I had control over the fallout.”

Anton stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Handling it?” Anton scoffs, crossing his arms again. “Tristan, breaking things off with Maksim and playing along with Jake—letting the entire world think you two were back together—wasn’t handling anything. It was just you torturing yourself.”

A faint, self-deprecating smile touches the corner of my mouth. I give a slight, indifferent shrug, feeling the phantom ache of those three miserable months in my chest.