Unexpected

I had picked out a few dresses, along with Triston's suits to match. I had that one duty at least.

“This is it.” I told the stylist, "If I can have…” I picked up the short emerald dress, “This one for tonight, and-” I pointed at the tan suit, “and this for him.” I smiled, “I’ll need a green tie to match, if you can get that for me?” The man nodded,

“Yes, Mrs. Ballard.” I nodded happily with my pickings. I didn’t decorate the house, nothing but my garden, but at least he let me do this one thing.

“Shoes?” My finger moved up, “Some heel-”

“Mr. Ballard did say that you may not want to do that. Said some sensible flats-”

I rolled my eyes, “I’m wearing a short dress, I would like some heels.”

A cool voice rang from behind me, “But due to you being sick, we may not want to do that.” I turned my head back. Triston was standing there, his dark coat jacket missing. He looked at the clothes on the hangers. “How about it?” I stared at him.

“No. I want to look my best. The doctor herself said I should be fine.” I sighed, “But if you don't want me to be taller than-”

Triston snapped back at me, “Pick your shoes.” He took his phone from his pocket. “Just don’t blame me if something goes wrong.” I pursed my lips at him, “Dinner is at eight tonight. They’ll be here to do your makeup at six, alright?” He asked as if I had a choice.

“Thanks.” With that, Triston spun around and disappeared as quickly as he appeared. He was gone. My body felt at ease with this. It was so odd to see him so much.

--------------------------------

The day was dragging on, barely lunchtime, when I sat down for my food. It was salmon with veggies. The usual- what wasn’t was the man seated across from me.

“Working from home?” I asked after my third chew, Triston’s eyes moved up to my face.

“Took the day off.” I couldn’t even stop the gasp that left my lips. Even on my deathbed, this man would still be working. “What? “ Triston asked, quickly, and I gained composure.

“Nothing, just odd that you aren’t working.” I felt my chest clench. I was saying more words to him now than I’ve said in… Last year. Usually, our communication comes through someone else.

“Well, there is nothing more important to me than my brother.” His eyes were steel, “Remember that tonight. You will not ruin his night with your-”

“I would never do anything to ruin Marcus’s day. You know that-” Triston slammed his fist onto the table. My plate shook, my hands moving away from my food.

“I don’t know that!” His voice boomed, “This isn’t a fucking game. I need his time here to be perfect.” I felt my breath being held in my chest. “You won’t ruin another thing for me.” With that, Triston stood up and left me at the table. Triston and I were like fire and ice. He burned, and I melted with him near me. I gripped the edge of the table before I stood, my legs wobbled, nearly giving out from under me-

The doorbell went off. My eyes were large as I heard it. It was early- I looked at my watch on my wrist. Too early for the makeup artist, who could it- again, the doorbell went off. Behind me, Rosy walked to the door. I had a feeling in my stomach. I was going to have to start acting quickly. I steadied myself following behind Rosy. I had made it to the door, seeing Rosy open it up

A loud voice erupted from the entryway, “ROSY!” His voice filled the house, “How I’ve missed you!” I saw his arms, grabbing hold of Rosy and pulling her into a tight hug. I moved from the shadows, allowing him to see me. Marcus looked much like Triston, with blonde hair and the same blue eyes. These, however, didn’t hurt to have on me. They were so much like Triston’s when we first met. The kindness they always had, the look of wanting. “Iris?” I smiled as he made way, sorry, towered over me. One thing he and Triston were different in was height. Marcus was huge, and before I knew it, I was in his arms.

I struggled to speak, “I thought your flight wasn’t supposed to come in for another few hours.” I barely let out.

He chuckled, “It’s a private jet, sis, they leave when I want.” He placed me on the ground. Taking in my face. “Iris, you dying?” Well… He was as brass as always. “Ohh- I mean you look pale looking… smaller-” He looked me down. “And skinny. You okay?” I smiled at him,

“Marcus, I’m fine.” I waved him off, “Just on a no-carb diet.” He nodded,

“No pasta will make you look like you're dying. Got it.” His goofy smile made me roll my eyes. “Where’s Triston? Still working?” His laugh made me feel less offended. I took a step back,

“He’s in his office.”

“Still working like always…” Marcus shook his head, “I’ll go get him-” No. My mind screamed at me. If Marcus saw him, in the state he just left, to see Triston’s makeshift bedroom in his office, he’d know. They were only married on paper.

“Marcus!” I shouted back for him, “I’ll get him- just…” I tried to come up with something: “Rosy, can you please make Marcus a drink?” I moved past him, fingers on his arm to move him back. “Go sit down.” I urged him. Quickly, I sped to the other side of the house. I knew where he shut himself in. Mostly, to avoid ever being here. I never had a reason to be here. I tried to avoid him when he was around. I came to the large door, my fist moving up until I remembered.

“Fuck it.” I opened the door. The dark room is only being lit by a single desk lamp. His desk chair was spun, and smoke was coming from behind it. I stared at the leather chair, “Triston.” My voice must have been the last thing he expected, and the chair slowly turned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was raw and rough. The lit cigarette in his hand as I stared at him.

“I thought you quit smoking?” His eyes moved from the cigarette to me.

“I did.” He spoke slowly, “But you have no right in telling me what to do.” He always told me what to do. But that's the punishment of living the way I did.

“Something's come up,” I took a deep breath, “Marcus is here.” His eyes grew large as he stood from his seat.

 “What?”