Sweet Dandelion

But it’s not Lachlan on the other side. It’s Sage.

“Oh, hey.” I step back, letting my brother in.

He looks around. “The Lach-ness Monster isn’t here?”

“You missed him.”

“Hmm,” he harrumphs. “Such a shame. Would you think he’s as good-looking with a black eye?” He cocks his head to the side, waiting for my response.

“Sage,” I groan. “Play nice.”

“He’s not even here,” he grumbles.

“Is that for me?” I eye the package in his hand.

“It’s your birthday present, since you know, you ran off to meet that dickwad on your actual birthday.”

I take the small box from him, setting it on the coffee table. I know it’s going to be one hell of an uphill battle getting Sage to like Lachlan.

Sage sits down on the couch, stretching his legs out. Tally hisses from beneath it.

Hands on my hips, I face my brother. “I love him.” He looks up at me with an aggravated look. “I know things between us shouldn’t have happened the way they did, I’m not that naïve, but they did. Regardless, he’s the man I love, and we’re together. I hope we’re together for a very long time. I’m not saying you have to love him, or even like him, but please for my benefit, be cordial whenever you do see him.”

My brother’s jaw twitches. “Can I at least punch him once? One teeny-tiny black eye won’t kill the dude.”

“No,” I say firmly. “I’m twenty, Sage. I’m living on my own. I’m seeing a therapist. I’m going to start college in the fall. I’m working on myself and you have to trust that I know what’s best for me, and Lachlan…” I can’t stop the smile that lifts my lips. “He’s the one.”

“Fuck.” My brother groans, rubbing his hands on the legs of his jeans. “I’ll … grudgingly accept the guy the best I can, but don’t for a minute think this means I approve of this. I know Sasha is younger than me, but she’s nineteen and I’m twenty-seven. That’s eight years compared to eleven and she wasn’t underage—”

“I wasn’t either,” I defend.

He narrows his eyes. “You were a student. It doesn’t matter that you were eighteen. You were still off-limits to him.”

I bow my head, because I know he has a point and I don’t want to get in a shouting argument with my brother.

“I see your point,” I say instead.

He exhales a heavy sigh, looking at me sadly, no doubt thinking of all the things I’ve been through the last two years. “Because he makes you happy, I’ll try my hardest to be on my best behavior.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

“Now open your present.” He picks the package up from the table and extends it to me.

Taking it from him, I sit down beside him, ripping off the paper.

Inside the box, I reveal a wind chime. This one with monuments from different European cities for the chimes. As I study each one, I realize there’s something from every country I visited.

“Sage?”

> “I had it custom made,” he explains. “It seemed pretty perfect for you.”

My mouth opens and closes, but no words came out. “I … thank you.”

I place it back in the box, closing it, before finally hugging my brother. He holds me tight. “I love you, Weed.”

“Love you more, Herb.”

“We have to stick together.”