62- Brother's Grief

"He didn't tell you?" Caoimhín asked as he looked back and forth between Quayleigh and Tau.

"No. He never spoke about what happened," she replied.

"Of course, he didn't! You never could take responsibility for a damn thing! The lies, the cheating, nearly flunking out of university, it was always someone else's fault! It was never yours alone; And there was always Dad to smooth it over or pay someone off. Francesca was the best thing that ever happened to you. She finally managed to reach you. Made you want to do better. She made you grow up, and yeah, I wasn't perfect, but when I messed up, at least I took the consequences. I didn't try to lie my way out of it, but this, I thought this time you'd finally have to live with what you did! You made her drink that night. You convinced her, that she was sober enough to drive. You put her behind the wheel of your car, knowing she wasn't an experienced driver and knowing she was unfamiliar with that road. That wet, dark, winding road that switch-backed its way through that forest. You should have known better! You should have fucking known better! You should have realized what was going to happen. But you put her in that position and when she lost control of your car, you were miraculously ejected, and she was crushed when she rolled down the cliff and into a tree!" he shouted until he had run out of breath. "You made the choices, and those choices got Francesca killed… the night before your wedding."

The tension following Caoimhín's outburst was palpable, and the look on his face, the reddened cheeks, widened, watery eyes, and scrunched brow, told more than his words.

"You loved her," Quayleigh stated causing him to lift his hands and wave them in denial.

"What? How? No! I… I didn't," he protested, but the lie was obvious.

"You loved her, and she didn't know. I suspect Dylan didn't either."

Caoimhín shook his head as a tear slipped from his eye. "No, you're wrong. That's not true," his voice cracked and softened as he lowered his head and closed his eyes. "She knew. She knew, because I begged her not to marry him."

"Why did she not listen to you?" Tau questioned the tilt of his head eluding to his curiosity.

"Because she still believed that loving you made you a better man, and that somehow, you were still worth it!"

"I'm sorry," Tau replied as he looked down into his coffee.

"You don't get to be sorry, Dylan! You've erased her. You've annihilated her from your life!"

"No, that's not what I meant. I'm not sorry for me, I'm sorry that you lost her. And I'm sorry that she didn't understand how much you cared or had the sense to leave me, nor I the sense to let her go."

"Your grief, Caoimhín, don't allow Dylan's actions to diminish your right to it," Quayleigh said feeling sorry for the position he was in.

Forcefully pointing in her direction, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he spat, "As if I need you to give me permission to mourn her!"

"Well, someone has to, because clearly you aren't giving it to yourself," she replied as she remained as calm as possible and stared at him. "I understand where your anger is coming from. It has little to do with me, and everything to do with him. He had the woman you loved and instead of treasuring her and keeping her safe, happy, and healthy, he ruined her. He couldn't help himself, could he? How many times did he cheat on her?"

"Five, that I know of."

"How many times, Caoimhín?" she softly prompted him, wanting him to speak more truthfully.

"Nine! But I couldn't prove the rest," Caoimhín spit out as tears dripped from his chin.

"You told her, and she didn't believe you?"

"She didn't have to. She already knew. He had sworn that he wouldn't do it again, and she promised to marry him if he could stay faithful for three years, and if he could prove he had no children with any of the other women he had been with."

"The Vastilem. That's why he got it," Tau hummed in an innocuous way.

"You," Caoimhín corrected. "That's why YOU got it."

"Ah, yes. Me. That's why I must have gotten it."

"Yeah, that's exactly why you got it. You purposely had it made to looked aged so she wouldn't believe the truth of what happened with Naomi Sargsyan or Tabitha Crawford, if either of them decided to come forward and talk. Not that it would happen; after all, Dad paid them to keep their mouths shut and mom, true to form, took care of the problems. Couldn't have bastard Kirkwood's running around ruining our good family name. At least with the tattoo you wouldn't be able to make those mistakes again. Too bad Francesca wanted kids, one day. At least until you got it removed, it didn't really matter what you did as long as you never got caught right? But hey, knowing you, you would have found a way to weasel out of all the consequences, even those from that stupid sigil too."

"Actually, even he can't avoid those consequences, and the truth of its age would have been known when it was pulled from him. His lies would have caught up to him at some point," Quayleigh said as she set down her mug, the contents half gone. "Not that that is any consolation now though."

"No, it's not, because it's too late. Not even mother can bring back the dead. You know, I've really tried to forgive you, Dylan. I really have, but you just don't get it. You never did, and you still don't. You don't deserve peace or happiness. You don't deserve to have anyone by your side, helping and supporting you. You shouldn't get to walk away with a clear conscience and a new girlfriend to keep you warm at night. You, Dylan, you deserve to know and remember what you did! You should be suffering! Agonizing over what happened! Your heart should hurt a thousand times worse than mine! So why? Why do you get to go away and come back happy?"

"Because it is as I said; Dylan is dead. I may look and sound like him, but we are not the same. Based solely on what you've told me, it sounds as if things are better this way. I'm sorry you won't get the satisfaction of watching his continued suffering, and that you alone now bear the burden of your grief. It isn't fair to you, to be the one that remembers the woman that she was and understands how unworthy I was of being loved by her. And there are no words that I can offer to ease you of your pain. I can only hope that one day you find someone worthy of your capacity to love and to care. Someone who will recognize those things in you, and will value them, as I hope I did, back when I knew you to be my brother."

"Gods, you don't sound like him at all," Caoimhín remarked as he wiped his eyes. "You don't sound or act or even really look like him. Your cloths, your hair, your expressions and mannerisms, even the way you sit and hold your mug, they're all wrong. Even she's wrong." He motioned to Quayleigh. "It's easy to believe you when you say my brother is dead, because I don't recognize who you are."

"And for that, yet again, I must apologize. I will try to be more like who I was."

"Please don't," Caoimhín said as he looked up at him. "It's easier this way. Maybe I can move on now. Finally stop waiting for the moment when I think you've suffered enough and knowing that day will never come. And even better, at least now, I no longer have to pretend to want anything to do with you."

"I see, and I understand. Given as things are though, it is inevitable that we will cross paths. Do you have any objections to us being civil in the presence of others?"

"This isn't a business arrangement," Quayleigh remarked as she shook her head at him, "try not to be so insensitive."

"No, it's okay," Caoimhín said, "I'm used to this. Kyffin's the same way. Always somber, stoic, and right to the point. You used to get a kick out of how tight he was wound. He looks like he'd shatter into a million pieces if he so much as grinned. You couldn't stand being in a room alone with him for more than a few minutes at a time. You used to say he exuded an air of judgement that made your very bones ache in shame." He hmphed, "Its almost funny, now that I think about it. You always knew you were a piece of shit, and all he had to do was look at you to make you understand it. If only Francesca would have seen it to. And you, Quayleigh, I hope he doesn't destroy you like he did her. I'm sorry I was hostile with you. Clearly, you didn't deserve it. I don't think you had any idea the type of person he was, or what he did to the woman he claimed to have loved more than anything. And I really hope that you had nothing to do with what's happened to him."

"Thank you, Caoimhín. I appreciate your apology. Even though, I doubt I'll ever be able to prove it, I truly had nothing to do with his current situation, and I honestly am trying to find a way to reverse it. So, when he's ready to accept back the memories he lost, he'll be able to. At the very least I hope to find out why he felt this was a better option over taking responsibility."

"You don't need to wonder; I can answer that for you. Dylan was incapable. I blame our parents really. Kyffin is mother's protégé. She raised him with a firm hand and didn't tolerate failure, especially not from him. I was given more leeway, because I wasn't born with any sign of the Laurentian gift. Magic wasn't an option for me, so I was sent to the best academy in the city, and was raised to be father's successor. And then along came Dylan. A hint of the magic gift, but not enough for mother to deviate from Kyffin's tutelage though. Which left him with no obligations and no responsibilities because father expected nothing of him either. He was just blessed at being good at everything; academically, physically, sports, and with people. He didn't have to work hard, he just naturally got what he wanted. And when he didn't, there were never any consequences. Just a 'do better next time' and that was it, while Kyffin and I were held to a far higher, barely obtainable, standard. Kyffin succeeded, and I never quite did. If you don't mind, I think I will take that coffee now."

"Sure. Do you have any preferences?"

"Dark roast, if you have it."

"I believe we do," she replied as a knock came to the door.

"I wonder who that could be?" Tau said as Quayleigh stood and headed to the door.

"No call this time?" she questioned.

"No," Tau replied as he checked the phone, a second knock resounding more forcefully this time.

"One moment," Quayleigh called out as she reached the door, unbolted it and opened it up. "Can I help you?" she asked as a tall man, standing perfectly upright loomed ominously before her.

The man looked down his narrow, pointed nose, and adjusted his wireframed glasses with the tip of his middle finger. His dark chocolate eyes seemed to scan over her, and his stoic demeanor gave nothing of his impression away. He had a narrow jaw, and smooth complexion that belied his true age, appearing younger than he should. He didn't need to speak for Quayleigh to recognize who stood before her, the chestnut brown hair, and familial resemblance made his identity easy to ascertain.

Bowing her head, she stepped aside and ushered him forward, saying, "Please, come in."

"Thank you," he replied, his voice similar in tone to Dylan's.

"Kyffin? What are you doing here?" Caoimhín asked from the couch as Tau stood to greet Dylan's older brother.

"The same as you, I suspect," he replied in a cold and distant manner. "Did you call mother?" he directed his question at Tau.

"Not yet," Tau replied as he motioned to the couch. "Won't you join us?"

Kyffin said nothing as he strode across the living room and sat on the other end of the couch from Caoimhín.

"Can I get you a coffee?" Quayleigh, now feeling even more out of place than before, asked as she headed towards the kitchen.

"No, thank you. A glass of water though, if you would."

"Yeah, no problem," Quayleigh replied making her way over to the display of coffee cups.

Finding a dark roast, she started the coffeemaker for Caoimhín before grabbing a glass from the cupboard and retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge, assuming Kyffin would be adverse, to something from a tap, even though it was obvious that the kitchen was equipped with a top-of-the-line water filtration system. Cracking open the bottle, she filled the glass, and carried it over to the table, setting it down before him.

"I appreciate your efforts, but you can take the rest of the day off. We have a family matter to attend to and you needn't make yourself scarce on account of us."

Quayleigh smiled as she sat down on the couch next to Tau. "I'm afraid I've given you the wrong impression. I'm not the help. I'm here with Dylan. My name is Quayleigh, and it's nice to meet you."

"Forgive my misunderstanding. I'm Kyffin Brádach Kirkwood. Eldest son of Sayer and Anquiliria Kirkwood, and brother to these two. Now, Dylan, why haven't you called mother?"

"It's rather complicated, I'm afraid," Tau replied and Kyffin's eyes narrowed.

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose once again, his jaw shifted in an unusual manner. "I see. Care to tell me who you are now? Or would you prefer to wait? And I warn you, I don't care for games."

"Actually, Kyffin, I'm afraid there was an accident a while ago. As a result, Dylan has lost nearly all of his memories," Quayleigh answered as she glanced at Tau, who had taken a firm hold of her hand.

"I haven't called mother, because I don't know how to explain the situation to someone I don't know," he added as the coffeemaker began to sputter in the background.

"Excuse me," Quayleigh said as she stood and retreated to the kitchen taking note of the tension. Retrieving the mug for Caoimhín, she glanced at the clock before returning to the living room, where a cold silence radiated between the men. "Here you are," she remarked offering the mug to Caoimhín, who said nothing as he took it from her. "And I am very sorry, but I do actually have to get going, but it was very interesting to meet you both."

"Yeah, sorry about earlier," Caoimhín replied, "and thanks for this."

"No problem. Enjoy it. Help yourself to more if you want. You too Kyffin. If you change your mind. But there's no milk or creamer, just to give you a heads up."

Kyffin closed his eyes and slightly bowed his head towards her, "Your warning is appreciated."

"Yeah, okay. So, enjoy the rest of your day," she replied as she turned and began to head towards the door.

"You too," Kyffin said as Tau stood from the couch.

"Excuse us," he remarked as she slid on her shoes, grabbed her jacket and purse and headed out into the hallway with him closely behind.

"Are you going to be alright with both of them?" she asked in a hushed tone, the door not completely shut behind him.

"Yes. Please don't worry about me," he replied as he set his hand to her cheek, cupping it gently. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I made sure we both had enough money to get back earlier, and I left your wallet in your jackets inside pocket."

"Then I will see you later, at our home."

"Please be careful, Tau. Kyffin's different from Caoimhín. He's a registered practitioner, and he knows magic on a level far beyond me."

"I'll be careful. I promise." Leaning forward Tau kissed her softly. "Uru will protect you, and he will let you know if anything happens."

"I'll try to stay positive," she replied before kissing him once more. "And Tau…"

"Yes, my dear?"

"I love you, and please, remember the rule."

A bright expression grew upon his face as he laughed and pulled her closer, embracing her, and nuzzling her affectionately. "I will, my Quayleigh. And know, I love you, too."