I soon learned that the cabin actually belonged to André. The proof of it was in the countless photos hung up on the walls inside. And me being the extremely nosy person that I am, I stopped to stare at them.

There was the miniature version of André, in his natural dark brown hair. His grey eyes were a great contrast to the dark hair, and he was actually smiling in all of these pictures. Wide, toothy grins were all I could see, and I had to admit he looked cute. There were so many with his parents, some with an older boy who resembled Janvier, and others, alone.

When André noticed I wasn't following him, he turned around from the top of the stairs to see what stopped me. Looking at him, I smiled.

"You must have visited this place a lot in childhood."

"Dad and Janvier, both are fond of camping, just like me. So we did come here a couple of times."

I took one last look at the happy pictures, and climbed up the stairs. These rich people sure had an obsession with adding stairs to every house. Even if I climbed these thrice a day, it would be enough exercise for me.

But this cabin was quite warm and cozy, unlike the house I lived in. The wooden flooring and cream colored walls welcomed me like a mother's embrace, and it's small size ensured I wouldn't lose my way in here. There were two rooms in the cabin, and we each occupied one of them. Leaving our luggage in the rooms, we went back down.

André already had all the camping equipment in here, so all we had to do was build the tent. But I soon found out it was easier said than done. Setting up a tent was one of the most difficult things on earth.

"Oh God, what's wrong now?" I whined, asking my tent, as if it could speak up.

"You're holding it wrong. You need to hold it tighter and stretch it to tie it around the nail." André helped me from the other side.

I said, "That's the thing. I don't have any strength remaining to pull this thing even tighter."

Groaning, I gave up. Sitting on the wooden plank, I watched André swiftly tie the tent. This was the first time I'd seen him this concentrated and immersed in anything, and the sight mesmerized me. We had been working for about thirty minutes now, and he had taken off his jacket, revealing his plain white t-shirt.

His arm muscles rippled as he drew another nail into the plank, and beads of sweat rolled down his nose, onto his lips, and down his neck. Blinking rapidly, I forced myself to come to my senses. All these steamy novels Lily made me read were really getting to me. I can't believe I was thinking about André as if he was a main character in some book.

Clearing my throat, I stood up and went to take a short walk along the banks of the lake. There was a boat tied on the far end of the lake, and I promised I would remind André to take that for a ride across the lake.

A few minutes later, André called out to me, "Come on, it's all done."

I walked back to the tent, and it was indeed fixed perfectly. Sighing in delight, I went to check the inside, and it looked so cozy. If only I could keep warm in it, I would love to sleep in there.

"I really thought we wouldn't be able to build this, but it looks perfect!" I said, and it made him smirk.

"How could you think like that, when I'm right here?"

I laughed at his cockiness, and went around to look at the expanse of it. We were also going to light up a small fire in front of the tent. I'd suggested we cooked our food in it too, but it would take a long time since none of us knew how to cook. So, we just settled for its warmth.

Ordering take-out food from a local restaurant was the best option in that moment, and we did just that. Eating hot noodles and pizza in front of the small fire was a novel experience for me, but I enjoyed every moment of it. I was surrounded by warmth from all sides, including André's presence, and it suddenly sent me into a reflective mode.

When did we change so much? It felt like yesterday, when I'd stepped in Florian's office on my first night in New York, and met André. The way his eyes mocked at me and the tantrum he had thrown. Between all those fights and disagreements and insulting and accusing each other, who would have thought we would be eating and camping together?

Guess that's what the magic of time is. Living with each other and tolerating each other's presence became a habit, and then we started to like it. And here we were, on the verge of an unusual friendship.

A quiet serenity enveloped us, as we basked in the warmth of the fire in the cold night. A thought occurred to me, and I turned to André.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked him, and he nodded. "Do you hate your brother?"

He was shocked by my question, and honestly speaking, I was too. Why did it come out so wrong? Wincing, I tried to cover it up with my nervous rambling. "I mean, it's just that you got so serious on the engagement night, and even today, you didn't seem too happy to see him."

He sighed softly. Staring out into the distance, he spoke, "I don't hate him, I'm just... ashamed to see him."

Puzzled, I asked again, "Why? Have you done something wrong?"

"Technically, my mom did, but I still feel bad about it. You know Janvier is dad's son from another woman, and that was enough basis for my mom to differentiate between us. But it didn't just stop at silly fights or scolding him over something stupid. She didn't stop until he left the house on his own."

"There was a time I was too attached to him, and we did everything together. As you saw in those pictures, he was my only companion. But mom didn't consider anything and just forced him to leave. He's come back after eight years now, and I just don't know how to face him."

I wasn't really alarmed to hear that, since I knew how Jolene could be, but I was more concerned for the brothers. It was evident from Janvier's words that he still cared for his little brother, and looking at André looking so sad about it, I instantly knew his words were true.

Jolene was a truly terrible woman for doing that to little Janvier, and I could finally put the pieces together. Why André harbored such deep hatred for his mother, and why he supported me so strongly, even when he didn't like me. He just didn't want anyone else to suffer at her hands like Janvier did.

"So, is that the reason why you won't become your father's successor? Because you feel like it should have been your brother?" I asked him, and saw his face morph into an even sadder, almost guilty expression.

"You're right. He wouldn't have to go out and pursue law if not for my mom. And no matter how much he says he didn't want this life, I can't shake off the guilt. It feels like I've ruined his life on purpose."

My heart cried for him right there. At the center of this arrogant, egoistic and emotionless man, lied a warm heart brimming with emotions. I could have never imagined that he could be this righteous, but everyday, I was learning something new about him.

Maybe that's why it's said to not judge a book by it's cover.

I laid my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "I don't know a lot about Janvier, but judging from his words and actions, I think he's truly happy to be away from the limelight. But by trying to pay for your mother's sins, you will only torture yourself and the people who truly care for you. You've already done that enough, now it's time for you to step up and confidently take over."

He looked at me, his silvery eyes dripping with dilemma and remorse. He had finally bared himself in front of me, and it made me want to hide him inside me, so that nobody would be able to hurt him.

Still feeling unsure, he simply said, "I guess you're right. I just wanted him to be happy, but if he's truly content, there's no reason for me to punish myself."

Smiling in relief, I tapped him on the shoulder. Now that he was open to the possibility of thinking about his future, it would be easier to get him on track.

I was suddenly so proud of him. He was such a strong person, battling with his mother for his brother, and sacrificing so much for his family. If only I had seen this earlier on, I wouldn't have cursed him and called him names.

This man was no child, he was just as sensitive and thoughtful as his father. He was a fully grown man.

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