The temptation of my brother-in-law-Chapter 107 - one hundred and seven

Chapter One Hundred and Seven

Alicia’s POV

Travis and I stood in room three, our bags at our feet. The space was large. One king bed. A sitting area. Glass doors leading to a balcony with ocean views.

One bed. We’d be sharing a bed for two weeks.

I started unpacking. Hanging clothes in the closet. Putting toiletries in the bathroom. Trying not to think about the sleeping arrangements.

Travis was doing the same. Moving around the room with surprising efficiency. No stumbling. No slurred words. Just normal, functional behavior.

"I can take the couch," he said suddenly. "If you’re not comfortable sharing the bed."

I stopped. Turned to look at him. "What?"

"The couch. I’ll sleep there. Give you space." He met my eyes. Actually met them. "I know this isn’t ideal. Being stuck in a room together for two weeks."

I was surprised. Genuinely surprised. This was sensible. Considerate. Everything Travis usually wasn’t.

It seemed my husband was actually capable of being reasonable when his head was clear.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah. It’s fine. I’ve slept on worse."

"Okay. Thank you."

We finished unpacking in silence. Not uncomfortable silence, just neutral. Like roommates rather than a married couple.

When we were done, I grabbed the medical kit from my bag. I always kept one packed. Years of dealing with my father’s violence had taught me to be prepared.

I was heading to the bathroom to organize it when I heard a shout from across the hall. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"Malachi!"

The voice was Cecilia’s. Panicked.

I stepped into the hallway just as Malachi emerged from their room. Our eyes met briefly before he disappeared back inside.

I stood there for a moment. Debating. Then walked over and knocked.

Malachi opened the door. He was carrying Cecilia in his arms. She was holding her ankle, her face twisted in pain.

"Excuse me," he said.

I stepped aside. Watched him carry her to the bed with such care. Such gentleness.

"Do you have a medical kit?" he asked. "Cecilia twisted her ankle."

"I’ll get it."

I went back to my room. Grabbed the kit. Returned quickly.

Handed it to Malachi without looking directly at him. Couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see him being so attentive to her without something breaking inside me.

Layla appeared behind me. Took over immediately. Playing the concerned mother figure. Wrapping Cecilia’s ankle with practiced hands.

"Is there anything else you need?" I asked when Layla was done.

"No, we’re fine," Layla answered. "Thank you for getting the kit."

I left. Walked back to my room. Closed the door and leaned against it.

He’d been carrying her. Looking at her with concern. Taking care of her.

Everything I’d never have. Everything she got so easily.

I pushed away from the door and went to the balcony. Needed air. Needed to clear my head.

Travis was already out there. Leaning against the railing. Looking at the ocean.

"You okay?" he asked without turning around.

"Fine."

"Liar."

I didn’t respond. Just stood next to him and watched the waves.

"It’s him, isn’t it?" Travis said quietly. "Malachi. You’re in love with him."

My heart stopped. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yes, you do. I’m drunk most of the time but I’m not blind." He finally looked at me. "I see the way you look at him. The way you avoid looking at him. It’s obvious."

"Travis—"

"It’s fine. I don’t care. We both know this marriage is a joke." He turned back to the ocean. "You love him. I love a dead woman. We’re both pathetic."

I didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know how to respond to this sudden honesty.

"For what it’s worth," he continued, "he’s an idiot. Anyone can see you’re worth ten of that Cecilia woman."

"You don’t even know her."

"I know she’s not you. That’s enough."

We stood in silence for a while. The sun was setting. Painting everything orange and gold.

"Come on," Travis said finally. "We should get ready for dinner. Pa Wood hates it when people are late."

We went back inside. Got dressed for dinner. Travis in a button-down shirt. Me in a simple dress.

I was finishing my makeup when there was a knock on our door.

Travis opened it. "Isabella. What’s up?"

"I’m gathering people for cards before dinner. Thought you might want to join." She looked past him at me. "Both of you. Or just Alicia if you’re not interested, Travis."

"I’m good. But Alicia might want to go."

I didn’t particularly want to. But staying in this room alone with my thoughts sounded worse.

"Sure. I’ll come."

I followed Isabella down to one of the sitting rooms. Sasha was already there. And Tom. They had cards spread out on the coffee table.

"Texas Hold’em," Isabella explained. "Just for fun. No real money."

We sat. Isabella dealt. I picked up my cards without really seeing them.

"So Alicia," Isabella said as we played. "How are you settling into your new position? Head of family affairs is a lot of responsibility."

"It’s been fine. Busy but manageable."

"I remember when Layla first took that role. She was so excited. Thought it would give her power." Isabella played a card. "But she learned quickly that power in this family is an illusion. We all serve Pa Wood in the end."

Sasha snorted. "That’s depressing."

"It’s reality." Isabella looked at her daughter. "The sooner you accept it, the easier life becomes."

"I don’t want to accept it. I want to actually matter."

"We all matter. Just not in the ways we hoped we would."

The game continued. Cards were played. Small talk was made.

Then Isabella asked, "Do you remember much from your childhood, Alicia? Before the Blackwoods?"

"Some. Why?"

"Just curious. Mine wasn’t great either. Poverty. Absent parents. I thought marrying Mario would fix everything." She laughed bitterly. "Turns out I just traded one prison for another."

"At least this prison has nice furniture," Tom said dryly.

"True." Isabella played another card. "What about you, Alicia? Do you ever regret marrying into this family?"

The question was too direct. Too honest. I didn’t know how to answer without revealing too much.

"Sometimes," I said carefully. "But Sophie’s safe. That’s what matters."

"Always the protective older sister." Isabella smiled. "I admire that. I never had siblings. Always wondered what it would be like to have someone who actually cared."

"It’s complicated," I said.

"Everything in life is complicated." She won the hand and started gathering cards. "Marriage especially. Did you know Mario has a mistress? Has for years. Everyone knows. Everyone pretends they don’t."

Sasha’s head snapped up. "Mom—"

"What? It’s true. Why pretend otherwise?" Isabella dealt again. "Marriage in this family isn’t about love. It’s about appearances. Alliances. Control."

"That’s bleak," I said.

"That’s honest." She looked at me directly. "Is your marriage any different? Do you love Travis?"

"I—"

"You don’t have to answer. I can see it in your face." She played a card. "None of us love our husbands. We just survive them."

The words hung in the air. Heavy. True.

"I think I need a drink," Sasha said, standing up. "This got too real."

She left. Tom followed. Saying something about checking on dinner preparations.

Leaving me alone with Isabella.

"I didn’t mean to make everyone uncomfortable," she said. "I just get tired of pretending sometimes."

"I understand."

"Do you? You’re young. You still have hope that things might get better. That maybe love exists somewhere in this family." She collected the cards. "But it doesn’t. Not really. We just make do with what we have."

"Is that enough for you?" I asked.

"It has to be. What other choice is there?"

I didn’t have an answer for that. Didn’t know if survival was enough. Didn’t know if I could live like Isabella. Accepting. Resigned. Dead inside.

"Come on," Isabella said, standing. "Dinner’s probably ready. And Pa Wood really does hate it when people are late."