On Monday morning, it’s back to the office and everything that can distract me. I’m working on an update to Grimrage, an action video game that I developed just after I left college. The game has become so popular, the demand is almost impossible to fill. I built a company on its success, and I employ a team of game developers that turned a simple game into a series with a backstory and graphics that make me gasp for breath sometimes.

I like what I do. When I started studying, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I went for a degree in software development like so many others, but I stumbled across game design. I learned that being able to create graphics on the screen and combining a story with the healthy urge of any man to shoot and kill made me rich.

Now, I don’t work a day in my life because I love what I do. I work with writers that create the characters and stories, with artists that bring the creations to life, and programmers that know exactly how to get the kids these days sucked up in my games.

“What do you think we should do about a woman for Silas?” I ask.

Nick sits in the chair opposite me, playing with a tennis ball. All the programmers need to keep their hands busy to think.

“I thought Silas was a loner,” Nick says. His blond hair is a mess, like he didn’t bother to comb it for the last week. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt with Pac Man on the front.

I nod. Silas the Brute is the character I created when Grimrage took shape.

“He is.” Silas is the kind of guy that only fucks women to get his mind off things. The game has an age restriction, and we fade out, but the sex is implied. “He doesn’t go out looking for love or anything, but everyone has a weakness. It will challenge the writers if one of the women draws his attention.”

Nick thinks about it, throwing the tennis ball against the wall next to the door and catching it, again and again. “I think that could work,” he says. “It’s a little different than you’ve been doing.”

I shrug. “They’ll eat it up. Love? Especially if it’s unrequited? Make it with a mage or someone unreachable. That should ruffle some feathers.”

Nick smiles. “I like the way your mind works,” he said. “Beautiful.”

I nod. “I’ll send a message through to Harry, and he can get the team going on that,” I say.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” Nick asks.

“Like what?” I ask, acting like I don’t know what he’s talking about.

Nick just looks at me. I shake my head.

“This has become a commercial thing,” I say. “It’s not so personal anymore.”

Nick gets up. “Right. Well, that means I have a lot to do, too. Let me get to it.”

I watch Nick leave my office. I know what he was trying to ask me. When I created Silas the Brute, it was in my image. He’s a warrior, larger than life, with an unparalleled fighting ability. He doesn’t turn to women for anything more than raw sex, his weapon is his constant companion, and everything I’ve created from the start is loosely based on my life, from doting parents that know little about reality to a brother that Silas resents.

My phone rings.

“Little brother,” Paul says when I answer. Speak of the damn devil.

“What a surprise,” I say. I don’t say it’s a pleasant surprise because it’s not. I don’t like it when Paul calls. He’s an asshole, to be blunt.

“We’re invited to dinner at Mom and Dad’s. Tonight.”

I sigh. “Why didn’t Mom call?” I ask. I don’t like it when Paul runs around, acting like he’s in charge. He’s already got a god-complex because of the family business and being the first born and all.

“She asked me to call you.”

Right. Okay, then.

“Just us?” I ask.

“Obviously, Skylar as well,” Paul says, and he sounds irritated.

If she’s there, it will make the evening more bearable. For her, I’ll go. For her, I’ll do anything, including put up with my brother. And it’s not just because she’s married to him. I don’t like spending time with Paul if I can help it. I prefer to stay away from him. He’s condescending on a good day.

He gives me a time and hangs up without saying goodbye.

“Fucker,” I say after I put down the phone.

My parents live in a quiet neighborhood in the north of LA, in the same home we grew up in. Going home always holds mixed feelings for me. I had a good childhood, but Paul and I have never been the best of friends, and now he has Skylar.

My mom is a timid woman whose sole purpose in life it is to be a homemaker and raise a family. The kitchen is her domain, and she takes pride in feeding everyone. My dad is a die-hard businessman who started a pharmaceutical company with his brother, after he had to give up on being a doctor because he didn’t make the cut for med-school. It had dented his ego, despite all the money he’d made since. He’s hard person with little compassion and no tolerance for drama and fuss. I feel like Paul inherited his hard-as-nails personality. My parents are the typical sixties couple, and I hope one day I can find a love as loyal as theirs.

When I arrive, Paul and Skylar are already there. Paul is still in a suit. Skylar is dressed in a vintage-looking dress that makes her waist look tiny, and it accentuates her curves beautifully. God, she’s a wet dream.

I hug my mom, but I can’t pull my attention away from Skylar. Her hair hangs loose over her shoulder, and she smiles at me when she says hello. Her eyes are a deep blue, set in a tan skin so that the whole look is exotic. Paul clears his throat and shakes my hand, squeezing harder than he needs to, to prove a point.

“I don’t see you very often,” Paul says to me.

I shrug. “I’m busy.”

“With your games or with women?” he asks.

I shake my head. Skylar isn’t making eye contact. I don’t like talking like this in front of her. I don’t exactly abstain because I can’t have the woman of my dreams, but it’s just fucking. Nothing else. She doesn’t need to know about any of it.

When my dad comes into the room, he greets us all with the same, stiff attitude. Paul disappears with him to talk business, and I stand with Skylar while my mom finishes cooking dinner.

“How’s your nose?” she asks.

“Perfectly fine. I guess I should be happy it isn’t broken.”

She chuckles. “It would serve you right.” Her eyes are full of humor, and I know she doesn’t mean it. She cares. I know she does. It bothers me that she doesn’t care about me the way I care about her, but I’ll take what I can get. She hasn’t told anyone about Saturday night, and it’s one of the many reasons I like her.

“Be nice tonight, okay?” she says. “Paul is stressed, and you know how much your mom hates it when you guys are at each other’s throats.”

I nod and sigh. Skylar is the only person I’ll behave for. I have a feeling she knows it.

When my mom calls, we sit down around the dining room table. Paul is opposite me, with Skylar next to him. I’m glad because I get to look at her whenever I want to.

Dinner is awkward.

“How is work?” my mom asks me.

Paul looks at me. I earn more than he does, even when he doesn’t agree that what I do is a real job. He took over the pharmaceutical company my dad started, and he’s proud about it.

“It’s great,” I say. “We’re working on the next installment. We want to release a year from now.”

Paul snorts. “More sex and violence?” he asks.

Skylar puts her hand on his arm.

“Especially sex,” I say. I can’t help it.

“Come now, boys,” my mom says, and I swallow the rest of my comment.

Skylar looks at me, but I can’t read her expression. I don’t know if she’s disappointed in me, but I didn’t start anything. She opens her mouth to say something, but her phone rings.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I have to take it.”

She excuses herself and walks away from the table. It’s just the four of us, like old times. Paul glares at me. My dad eats as if he’s on autopilot, his mind somewhere else. Th atmosphere is strained, uptight. Paul keeps glancing at me. There was a time when we were close, so long ago I can’t remember what it was like. There is no evidence of that now.

“How about you, sweetheart?” my mom asks Paul. “I take it business is good?”

Paul nods. “Very,” he says.

“A lot sick people, these days,” I say.

My dad glances at me. “What does that have to do with anything?” he asks.

I shrug. “Well, people get sick. Medication is needed. The demand already exists.”

Paul frowns. “So?”

“So, nothing,” I say and spear a cube of meat. “I’m just saying. Business can’t exactly be bad, can it?”

Paul puts down his fork. “You’re trying to tell me what you do is so much more important?”

I shake my head. “Of course not. Sex and violence…” I shrug, letting my unfinished sentence hang in the air. “But it’s hard to create a demand for something that no one needs.”

Paul is angry. It’s what I was aiming for.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Paul says.

“Language,” my dad snaps.

We both fall quiet. Skylar returns and we all pretend to be civilized.

“Everything okay, dear?” my mom asks.

“Yes, thank you, Jane,” Skylar says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Something’s wrong. I can tell, but I can’t ask her about it. Not now. We eat, continuing with strained, polite conversation. Skylar is distant, her conversation reserved now. Whatever the call was about, it wasn’t good.

When dinner is over, Skylar helps my mom clear the table while Paul stands in the corner of the living room with my dad, talking about business again. I wait for the women to finish up before I talk to Skylar.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” Her smile is forced.

I shake my head. “I can see you’re not okay,” I say. “Who called you?”

She takes a deep breath, and I can see her decide whether to tell me. “It was a state official.”

I frown. “At this time of the night?”

She shrugs, glancing toward Paul.

“And?” I ask. I have to press for details. She’s not going to share with me if I don’t ask her directly.

She takes a deep breath and blows it out with a shudder.

“Reverend Parsons, the man that married us? He wasn’t licensed, apparently.”

I blink at her. “What does that mean?” I ask.

She hesitates and glances at my brother again. When she speaks, her voice is low.

“It means that Paul and I aren’t officially married.”

My ears ring. How did this happen? I want to ask her more questions. I want to say something, anything, but I don’t get a chance. Paul appears at Skylar’s side, and I watch her force a smile to her lips, her worried expression carefully put away. Paul glares at me. He can’t stand that we are friends.

When Skylar decided to go for my brother instead of me, I hated them both. I wanted to be with her. It took me a while to accept that they were a couple, especially when they got married. I don’t think I’ll ever have a good relationship with my brother, but I’ve forgiven Skylar. If I can’t have her to myself, being close to her will have to be enough.

“Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” Paul asks.

Skylar nods, and they say goodbye to my parents. I offer to let them out, and I walk outside with them.

When Skylar hugs me, she says softly in my ear, “Please don’t tell him.”

I wrap my arms around her body and squeeze her. I don’t know why she doesn’t want Paul to know, but that’s not my business. I feel honored that she shared something this big with me.

“He won’t hear it from me,” I say.

Skylar looks relieved when she pulls away, and I swear I’m the only that can tell the smile she plasters on her face is fake.