I’m pacing back and forth and it loosely occurs to me that I might have been doing that for longer than what’s strictly healthy.

Then again, not a lot of wise decisions are currently being made, and in that sense I am in good company. There’s been a lot of cursing, a moderate amount of wall-punching, and a general sense of unease, but I’m yet to spot an idea worth considering on how to solve what we’ve cooked up.

Casting a glance at my brothers, I find Callum lurched back in a recliner, staring at the ceiling, and Troy seated on the armrest of the flimsy-looking couch, looking dead-eyed. I can commiserate with what both of them are currently feeling, I’m pretty fucking sure.

“He’s taking his fucking time,” I say finally, prompting Troy to look up.

“Well, you’d imagine he’d have a few words to say,” he notes with a shrug, standing up and rolling back his shoulders.

Its dawn, and we’ve been here all night, cooped up in one of the three studies that my father’s suite has. We’ve practically been kept prisoner here, though the door’s wide open for anyone who wants to use it. The only lock on it is the pretty open revulsion of one parent and one step-parent.

Milan must have been no more than two steps out of Lily’s bungalow before she had our father on the phone, screaming at him to get his ‘boys in check’, as he offered it to us. I doubt that’s the exact phrase Milan used, but whatever.

We each received a phone call about three minutes after Lily was dragged out of the building, and were told to report to the main lodge and face our father. The rest of the night has been spent on explaining, getting angry, and then explaining some more.

You’d think that a man of our father’s experience wouldn’t be so flabbergasted, hearing that three men happened to fall for the same woman, and that she’s run off with the hearts of all of them. Well, maybe the bit about said men being his sons, the woman being his ex’s lawyer, and said sons having decided to play house with said lawyer could be considered a little unorthodox.

I punch the wall again and it doesn’t budge.

At least the bite of pain in my hand distracts me for a moment. A moment long enough that when I look up and find Robert Stephenson standing in the middle of the room, looking haunted, I do a double-take.

“You boys have sure fucked up this time,” he says, but there’s no real bark to it.

He sounds and looks tired, as are we all.

“We can agree to disagree on that one,” I say tersely, and he gives me a look that I meet with one of equal caliber.

Floors would be opening up and men would be swallowed alive if our current moods were translated into earth-shattering forces.

“Did you talk to Milan? Where’s Lily?” Callum asks, getting to the point while I’m still busy brooding over what I perceive to be my very personal loss.

The first thing that happened when we got here was that dad told us to turn off our phones until we had the matter ‘settled’. We did that, but it wasn’t until fucking dawn that we collectively realized that this meant none of us had called Lily, or given her a chance to call us. When Troy tried her number, it went straight to voicemail, as it has been ever since.

“I did,” my father says with a nod of his head, pushing his hands in his pockets.

He does not look like a man looking forward to his wedding tomorrow. He looks like a man showing his age for the first time in his life. I don’t like the look on him, and I don’t like that we’re causing him heartache when he has enough bullshit to deal with between Milan and Andrea.

“I don’t know where Lily is. I know she has been fired and is no longer Milan’s lawyer. I also know that I have to be sitting down in an hour with her, discussing the terms of our divorce. And now with the information she has on you three and Lily… well, you can imagine that she’s going to get everything that she wants.”

My gut twists. I figured it would go there finally, but I still held out hope. Foolish, naïve hope that Milan wouldn’t sink so low on account of Candice, and the fact that Lily works for a friend of hers.

Worked, I mentally correct.

Not only did we tear open wounds that she hasn’t even told us about, but are at the same time so fucking obvious on her, but we got her fired. We’ve done nothing to protect her and it’s making me so fucking disgusted with myself and how I’ve handled everything.

“Dad,” Callum starts, but he’s silenced with a look.

“Look, guys, I don’t know what to tell you. You’ve been telling me all night about things that I’d only expect to read on the pages of the kinds of rags Milan and Andrea read, and yet here I am, hearing it from my three sons. You all have reputations, businesses to maintain… You’re ready to throw that away on a relationship that will not even work?”

I bristle at that.

“You don’t know that,” I tell him with a snarl.

“Don’t I?” he asks, the look in his eyes suddenly very sad. “You see how forthcoming life is about keeping two people together who love each other. You think it’ll be easier for four? Never mind the press that will ruin you, and her, but think about the future. Ten years from now, do you still see this,” he says, motioning loosely at me, Callum and Troy, “working?”

We look at each other and I see the same answer in their eyes that I feel in my heart.

“We do,” I say stiffly.

Robert Stephenson shakes his head and then runs his hand through his full head of salt and pepper hair. He looks tired, weary.

“Well, what can I tell you then?” he says with a shrug. “True love’s hard to come by. I had it with your mother…”

He looks at Callum and Troy, and then me. She was a mother to all of us, Callum’s and Troy’s mom Maria.

“I’ve been looking for another chance at it ever since. I’m not sure I’ve found it. If you think what you have is that precious with this girl… Well, you better fight for it.”

My breath catches in my throat. That was not the reaction I expected. Especially considering the berating he gave us when he first heard the news, calling us out on taking advantage of Lily and a million other things that were at least half-truths. At least when it all began.

“Dad…” Troy says. “You mean it?”

He nods, relaxing his shoulders.

“What changed your mind?” Callum asks.

“Milan. Milan changed my mind,” my father chuckles.

Seeing our confused looks, he elaborates.

“The world’s full of bad choices, some of which take the form of people you end up loving, for better or for worse. I’d rather see my sons make a choice that makes them happy, than see them make a choice that leads into nothing but sadness…”

He looks at me directly now and I feel that burn around my ring finger. I know exactly what he’s talking about.

I step up to him and we hug tightly, not a word passing between us. He does the same to Callum and Troy and then practically kicks us out of his rooms. When the door closes behind us, I’m not entirely convinced that he has any faith that we could make it work with Lily, but having his blessing to try… well, that means a fucking lot.

“We have to find her,” I say as the three of us head towards the nearest flight of stairs.

My gut’s telling me that Lily Morris will be nowhere to be found on this blasted island. We’ve missed our window so now we’re going to have to fucking build another one.

“I have an idea,” Callum says with a wide, confident grin.

It better be a good one.