Oliver checked his watch, “I guess it’s our date then,” He smiled at me over the candle, “Although it’s not like Alexander to be late to a good time.”

I nodded and glanced toward the door, “I suppose they’re not coming? I’m starving, Ollie. Can we order now?”

It was just after our food arrived that Alexander made his appearance. It was obvious that there was something wrong as he slipped into the chair opposite his brother. “Sorry I’m late,” He didn’t try to hide his obvious annoyance. I noticed his cheeks were flushed and the collar of his shirt was flipped up as if to hide his neck. He flicked a glance in my direction and didn’t smile. “Hi, Sil. You look nice.”

I wasn't sure he'd even really seen me.

“No worries,” Oliver assured him, not bothering to smile, either, “Where’s your wife?”

Alex hesitated for just a second as he lifted his menu, “I don’t know,” He motioned to the server, “Can I get a whiskey, please? No ice.”

Uh-oh. Whiskey no ice. Trouble in paradise, that was. I glanced at Oliver and noticed that he had not even touched his plate. I watched the two of them stare at each other, lost in one of those silent conversations they were so famous for leaving me out of. Their dark eyes darted against each other and I knew that there were things that I didn't know.

I despised it when they would do that to me. It frightened me. I hated when there was something wrong and I couldn’t fix it…or worse, I wasn’t given the opportunity to try.

“You don’t know where your wife is?” I couldn’t help it, I laughed out loud, interrupting their dialogue, but it was not a laugh like anything was funny at all. It was quite the opposite. “Well, where’s your son then?”

Alexander broke away from his brother and looked directly at me. The waitress returned with his drink and he thanked her without moving his eyes from my face. “Yes, Silvia, I said I don’t know where she is. Our son is with my mother. Thank you for your concern.”

“What’s wrong with your neck?” Those two were not going to leave me out of whatever was happening. Plus, if Alexander was going to be snippy with me I was going to give it right back to him, “Got a gigantic love bite, do you?”

“Tell her,” Oliver said in a low voice, taking a bite of his asparagus, “Or I’m going to.”

“Well,” Alex leaned back in the chair with his whiskey held in the palm of his hand, “Since you make it a point to make everything your business, especially things that are not, I’ll tell you. Just to shut you up.” He paused, waiting for my reaction. I gave him none, so he continued, “Melissa and I had a fight. Melissa and I fight a lot, actually, and sometimes it’s worse than others. Tonight we had a fight about coming here with the two of you. She didn't want to come. I did. She told me to make a choice between the two of you and her. I chose the two of you. She chose to take my car and drive away with it, which is why I am so late. I walked from Mum‘s.”

“So what’s with your neck then?”

“Oh,” He looked toward the ceiling casually and took a sip of his drink before he turned back to me, “She scratched me.” He turned down his collar so I could see three long, red claw marks that ran from his clavicle almost to his jaw. The skin wasn't broken, but you could see clearly where the blood had risen beneath it to just below the surface.

I gasped. We were all silent for a moment, except for the clink of Alex setting his now empty whiskey glass on the table.

“She does this a lot then?” I couldn’t believe it, “She scratches you?”

Xander’s eyes narrowed, “Sometimes. But, listen,” He leaned forward, “I’m hungry and I’m looking to get drunk, so let’s not discuss the blackness that becomes my life. Tell me about your perfect world, you two.”

There was so much acid in his voice that I found myself looking down at my plate. I was suddenly not at all hungry.

What a horrible dinner. Alexander ate nothing and got drunk on whiskey. Oliver was unnaturally quiet and didn't drink at all and me, I just seethed.

I couldn't remember ever hating anybody as much as I hated Melissa. Alex was many things. He could be rude, snide, cold, and plain old scrupleless, but beneath it all he had a heart as big as the sea and a kindness that was unforgettable if he ever chose it to show you. But even more than that, when Xander loved somebody, he loved them deeply, endlessly, and there wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for the object of that affection. Alexander loved his family. He loved his parents and he loved me as his sister, but he especially loved Oliver. The connection those two had was something that can't really be quantified. It was psychic, like they shared not only the same interests, but in many ways, the same mind. They were a permanent part of each other. Making him choose between her and Oliver went beyond cruel and unfair. It was sinful.

But she did. She made him choose and it went on like that. The times when he'd choose her, she didn't have an outburst. The times when he'd choose Oliver, she would. Seeing me was completely out of the question, even with Oliver, but it did happen from time to time. It hurt, knowing he was choosing her over me, knowing that I could be let go like that. I knew Xander didn't mean anything by it. I knew in his mind it was a temporary solution. I knew as well that he knew I knew it. He expected me to know it and be patient with him, so I was. But it didn't make it hurt any less. That old sense of shame, of abandonment, of not being good enough or worthy of love, bubbled up from deep within and took its familiar spot as a sickening brick sitting in my stomach.

I'd see Xander on occasion when he came by to collect his brother or on visits at their parent's house. He was usually alone. He seemed fine, but there was a tension about him that was different from the man we knew. Sometimes it was unavoidable not to have us all in the same place, Melissa included. She was both distant and pouting or appeared perfectly normal and engaged us all in conversation, but her mood could turn on a pin’s head and her anger was always aimed directly at Alexander. She made no secret when he displeased her. In fact, she seemed to find great pleasure in taking it out on him in public.

They had horrible fights. She'd hit him without hesitation. He never struck her back. Alex was constantly frustrated and on edge. It wasn't long before it took a physical toll. He had dark circles under his eyes and had lost weight. His mother was worried about him, his father was getting fed up with the fact that she was worried about him, and I was growing more and more upset with the situation. Oliver was the only one who kept his cool, exercising his unbelievable ability to trust that his brother would work everything out in the end.

But that didn't settle with me. He wasn’t the Xander I’d always known. He was quieter than usual, withdrawn, and I had the constant impression that he was keeping secrets. He’d show up with scratches on his arms and neck, sometimes his face, and once or twice a bruise. I knew Alex was a big, strong man and all of that, but, honestly, I worried about his physical safety. Melissa would fly into rages where she would not only hit, but she would throw things. I came to the flat once with Oliver to find a steak knife she had flung stuck into the wall above the stove in their kitchen. CD cases would be shattered, picture frames smashed. The rubbish bin was always full of broken items.

“This is mad!” I couldn't stand it. I could feel my face flushing red as I pointed to a broken mirror in the trash. “Are you waiting for her to kill you?”

“We haven’t got a gun,” He mumbled, “She’s not going to kill me.”

“Leave her.” I demanded

“Say that again,” His head snapped up. His deep brown eyes burned into mine, “And you’re the one who can leave, Silvia.”

“Fine!” I told him, snatching up my purse “You go ahead and keep her then! Let her ruin your life, but I’ll tell you one thing for nothing, Alexander Dickinson! If she hurts that baby I’ll kill her myself! Count on it!”