The Wishes We Keep

The mall buzzed with life even late into the evening, its lights casting a warm glow on the tiled floors. I quickly grabbed Dennis by the arm and led him inside, ignoring his protests.

"Slow down, will you?" he exclaimed as I dragged him toward the nearest clothing store.

I didn't answer, already browsing through racks of casual clothes. Once I'd found a comfortable set for myself—a soft knit sweater and a pair of jeans—I turned my attention to Dennis.

Before he could escape, I began piling him up with shirts, jackets and even a pair of dress shoes I thought would look good on him.

Dennis stood there, juggling an increasingly precarious tower of shopping bags, his face a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "Big sis, I can't possibly wear all these clothes. This is ridiculous!"

I glanced at him, smiling faintly. Maybe this is what it felt like to raise a child. Though Dennis was no longer the adorable little boy I'd once known, I still felt a strange maternal instinct toward him. Even though he now towered over me at six feet tall, his broad shoulders and confident stride didn't erase the image of the curly-haired kid who used to trail behind me.

As we walked out of the store, Dennis muttered under his breath, adjusting the bags in his arms. "Why didn't you like that dress? I thought it looked great on you."

I paused for a moment, then reached out to ruffle his hair, ignoring his protests. His naturally curly locks bounced back into place, much to my amusement.

"I never said I didn't like it," I replied, smirking. "In fact, it's the first thing you've shown me that felt like you were treating me with respect. I appreciate it."

Dennis rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Respect? What nonsense is that? And stop treating me like a kid!"

"Ah, yes, yes, of course," I teased, chuckling softly. "Now, how about we grab something to eat?"

"You're changing the subject again, big sis."

I only grinned, leading the way toward the mall exit.

***

By the time Dennis dropped me off at the villa, the night air was thick with silence. The streetlamps cast long shadows across the driveway, their glow muted by the towering trees surrounding the property. It was already past ten.

"You should stay the night," I suggested, glancing at his sportbike. "It's too late to be riding around."

Dennis opened his mouth to reply, but his expression shifted suddenly. His gaze darted past me, alert and cautious.

Frowning, I turned to see what had caught his attention.

Cayden stood in the open doorway of the villa, arms crossed, his figure framed by the golden light spilling out from inside. His expression was dark, unreadable, though a flicker of something I couldn't quite place glimmered in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised. It wasn't like him to come back this late.

"Oh?" Cayden's voice was low, almost mocking. "So, if I weren't here, were you planning to invite your boy toy to stay over?"

Boy what? I blinked, confused. What on earth was he talking about?

I glanced at Dennis, trying to figure out if this was some new slang I wasn't familiar with, but his expression had shifted into something more guarded. My instincts told me it was better to send him away.

"Dennis," I said softly, "you should head back. I'll call you later."

Dennis hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. His unhappiness was clear, but he didn't argue. Instead, he handed me the shopping bags and muttered, "Take care of yourself, Aubrey."

With one last glance at Cayden, he put on his helmet and rode off into the night.

The moment Dennis disappeared from view, Cayden strode over to me, his steps purposeful and impatient. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist tightly.

"Cayden, let go!" I hissed, wincing as his fingers dug into my skin.

He ignored my protests, dragging me into the villa. His grip was firm, almost bruising and the harder I tried to pull away, the tighter he held on.

Once inside, he released me with a shove, sending me stumbling slightly. I steadied myself, glaring at him as he loomed over me, his anger radiating in waves.

"What were you two doing at the hotel today?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

His fury was palpable. The veins on his forehead bulged and his bloodshot eyes glared at me with a heat that would have cowed anyone else.

I refused to shrink back. Straightening my posture, I crossed my arms and met his gaze head-on. "Why should I explain anything to you?" I snapped. "Did you consider my feelings when you left me soaking wet and freezing in the middle of nowhere? Since you didn't, I don't owe you any answers."

The satisfaction of speaking my mind sent a small thrill through me and I couldn't resist twisting the knife further. Smirking, I added, "Cayden, are you jealous right now?"