Penelope

My right heel wobbles as I step through the door. I'm five minutes early and Patrick is already in the restaurant. I can see his head of curly blonde hair as he stares down at his phone through the window. He's tapping his foot against the footrest on a tall stool. While he appears calm to  surrounding people, he's far from calm. I can understand where he's coming from. My nerves are on edge, and the knowledge I now bear about my long-lost sibling is surreal.

Am I crazy? I think to myself.

I don't know the antsy, reserved man sitting in that restaurant; I only know him as a contractor who smashes flooring and countertops for a living.

But then that familiar thrill stirs in my stomach, the one I used to get whenever I found a lead on my biological parents. The need to answer my questions has always stirred me—even more so than Cassian's presence does.

Taking a deep breath, I push through the glass door and walk right past the hostess. I'm a woman on a mission; if I talk to anyone, my courage is going to dwindle.

Patrick doesn't shift or turn; he waits until I'm towering over him to peer up at me. His blue eyes make me wonder why I was so daft. How could I not see the similarities between us? They're also wary and resigned. That gaze flickers down, over my grey crew-neck sweatshirt and purple skinny jeans, down to my ankle boots, and then back up to my face. It's a quick look, but I don't miss the brotherly adoration in his eyes nor the fascination.

Despite my stringent attitude directed at him, I can't help but feel a pang of sympathy. It must've felt like the world was imploding on him when he found my proof of adoption papers. I wonder if he carries the guilt his face is stricken with.

"Penelope," he finally says.

I settle onto the stool across from him. If we're going to have this conversation, we need to be at an equal level. I also need a drink. Something strong to ease the nerves. When the server stops by, I order a whisky on ice. I'm not a fan of the stuff, but Cassian and Jake always revert to it after a long day at work. It can't be that bad.

"Patrick," I reply once the server has left.

He nods, as if he knows what I'm going to ask. I'm guessing he prepared himself for this after my reaction on Saturday—and my lack of presence at work.

Do I go in hard or do I try a more subtle approach?

As I stare at my brother, I realize I need to go for the latter approach. Patrick looks haggard, as if he hasn't slept for days. I can't dismiss that.

"How is everything?" I ask.

The smallest smirk touches his lips. He can't believe I'm going for casual talk as opposed to grilling him for answers. "I've been better," he replies. "But I have no complaints." He drums his fingertips over the table's sticky surface in an anxious tempo, his gaze never leaving mine.

I stare back at him, searching his face while I pick out all the similarities between us. Fraternal twins. Out of all the people I could have run in to, I don't understand how we crossed each other's paths. "You weren't stalking me, were you?" I blurt.

Patrick's eyes widen. "W-what?" he stutters. "No! Of course not! I told you, I had given up. Until I saw you at Utterly Uncorked. I promise, Penelope, I had no idea who you were until I saw you."

Exhaling deeply, I take a long sip of my drink, choking it down. I'll never understand why Cassian and Jake like whisky—the taste is revolting. But the burn in the back of my throat and stomach is comforting. I take one more sip. "I want a DNA test," I clarify, my mouth feeling bold.

He shifts and settles back on his stool. "Okay. There's a place we can go in Kelowna. I could, uh, pick you up?"

His voice has an edge to it, which makes me think my comment has offended him. While I would prefer Cassian drive me in, I suppose I owe Patrick that much. He told me a truth our parents—I'll never get used to saying that—couldn't. Already, he's gained points in the trustworthy zone. "I don't mean to be offensive," I clarify. "Those pictures were... convincing. But I'm a science-based person."

"I took no offence," he replies, his eyes drifting to the window. "It's surreal to be here. I'm sorry if I sound selfish, but this is hard for me, too. I've been searching for years, and just when I think all hope is lost, you show up."

"How old were you when you found the papers?"

"Twenty-two," he replies.

A wave of disbelief rushes through me. He's been aware of having a twin sister for almost three years. When I was twenty-two, I was working for Olive Garcia and taking part in scavenger hunts with Jake, Cassian, Hanna, and Gemma. I also suffered from laxatives and watched my own boss have a bitch fit because she couldn't get her hands on Jake's dick. The difference between Patrick and I's lives angers me, but I suppress the sudden feeling. Mom and Dad changed my first name and my last name. How was Patrick supposed to know Penelope Montgomery was Jules Collins? When the name echoes in my brain, I wrinkle my nose. Jules would not have suited me. That being said, if my parents hadn't given me up for adoption, would I be a different person? Or would I still be me? Questions aside, I also can't complain. While not knowing who my biological family was, I did have an amazing childhood and I like the person I am today. 

"Which one of us is older?" I ask.

"Me," Patrick smiles. "By seven minutes."

Patrick's smile is contagious. "I always wanted an older brother. I never thought I'd have one, though."

"Hope you're not disappointed."

I draw my bottom lip between my teeth. Am I disappointed? No, of course not. Patrick is a good person and has his morals. But it's hard to not wonder what life could've been like. It's hard to ignore the pain constricting in my heart. "Why did they give me up for adoption?"

The pain in Patrick's eyes mirrors mine. "I can't answer that question, Penelope. I don't know. Mom and Dad have remained tight-lipped about it. I'm assuming it's because they're old fashioned and wanted someone to carry on the Collins name, but I could be wrong." He pauses, watching our server return. She asks if we're ready to order, removing her notepad and pen from the front pocket of her apron. Patrick orders the house soup and sandwich combo, and I order the walnut blue cheese salad with extra candied walnuts and house dressing. "The only way I can see us getting the answers we want is if we team up. But... But I don't know how you'd feel about that. I'm guessing it's too soon?"

I nod without hesitation. Although I have a good idea of my mom's physical appearance, I'm not ready to meet my biological parents. When I was searching for them, I thought it would be simple and our first meeting would cause a fairytale ending. But now that Patrick, my fraternal twin brother, is in the picture, my attitude has shifted. It guarantees no fairytale ending. Unless they have a plausible reason for keeping him and putting me up for adoption, I have a feeling things are going to remain rocky.

However, I find it unfair that Patrick played me and could meet the family who raised me. It's also embarrassing, they swooned over Patrick and I as a couple. A shudder resonates in my blood. I had been so close to asking him out on a date or kissing him before he broke the news. Thank God he beat me to it.

"Penelope?" Patrick asks.

With a heavy gaze, I look up from my drink. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for springing this on you. I should have eased into it."

"Yes," I nod. "You should have. But I admire you for having the guts to tell me. While it's been a shock to my system, I can't rule out the way you feel, either. Are you okay? This must be a lot for you, too." We're looping back on our conversation, but I cut us some slack. Nothing about this situation is normal. Despite how much the revelation hurt me, I can't ignore the longing in my gut. My longing for the life we could have had. Whenever I look at Patrick, I try to imagine what our bedrooms would have been like, where our imaginations would have taken us when we were hiking or biking, or what our friends would have been like.

"I'm okay," he replies. He takes a sip of his drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. Because I'm feeling antsy, I follow suit, choking back the whisky. It's not so bad this time around. "I feel guilty for not finding you sooner. Our parents are a tough pair to deal with, and they did a good job of keeping me in the dark. It's surreal to have you here. But... But I'm also happy. You're everything I imagined my sister to be. Successful, blonde, tall, independent." He pauses again. "How long have you been looking?"

"I've been searching for years," I murmur, my eyes becoming glassy. I wish Cassian were here. Ever since I told him about Patrick, he's been the most supportive person on the planet. His kindness doesn't help my infatuation with him. Though, I have to admit, I enjoy being in his spotlight. He hasn't mentioned Ophelia for a couple of days now. It would be nice to have his hand on my thigh for reassurance. Whenever I'm driving in congested areas, he rests his hand on my thigh to calm me down. He'll also speak softly and give me instructions or just talk me down. I could use that right now.

The mention of Ophelia's name makes me realize something. "You said Ophelia was your cousin, right?"

"Our cousin," Patrick corrects.

I rest my chin on my hand and try to calm my spinning mind. That Cassian wants to date my cousin is difficult to wrap my head around. While he knows Patrick is my brother, I didn't mention that Ophelia is my cousin. As much as I want him all to myself, impeding his crush and determination would devastate. Revealing I'm related to his crush could lead to that.

"I can't believe I had a meeting with my cousin," I whisper. The word feels strange on my tongue. Although Ophelia is related to me by blood, I'll never be able to let go of Gabriel or my other cousins. They'll always be a part of my life.

Just then, our server arrives with our dinner. She places each dish in front of us, wishes us a good meal, and then turns on her heel.

"Soo..." Patrick drawls. "You and Cassian?"

"No," I reply, my shoulders slumping. I take a bite of my salad. "He's in love with Ophelia. They knew each other as kids. Cassian loved her back then, before she moved away from Vancouver Island. He's trying to rekindle what they had."

"Ah," he nods, poking at his soup. "I see."

"See what?" I snort.

He sets his spoon down. "You want him to be happy, so you're supporting him even though you don't want to. How close is my guess?"

I level my gaze with his. "None of that twin telepathy yet. It's too soon."

Patrick grins. It's a grin that reminds me a little too much of myself. "So I'm correct?"

"Fine," I sigh. "You're right. I want Cassian. But Ophelia complicates things. She's a relative now."

"You have nothing to worry about," he replies. "Ophelia is too focused on work to care about dating. Her parents raised her that way. As ours did me. If there's one thing you should know, it's that our family is work-based. Jobs come before family, just like education comes before settling down or travelling. Cassian will get over her. Most men do."

My eyebrows form an inverted V. He doesn't seem to like Ophelia very much, but I avoid that topic. Family drama can wait until I've adapted to the situation a little better. "That sounds like a lot of pressure."

"It is," he sighs. "Was your family like that?"

I like how he doesn't use the term adoptive before family. To me, Mom and Dad aren't my adoptive parents. They're my parents; the people who fed me, gave me a home, and raised me. They taught me every life lesson and paid for my post-secondary education. Mom and Dad loved me more than I could have fathomed. "No," I smile. "Mom and Dad were always at ease with my decisions. They would try to guide me in the right direction and give me hints, but they never acted as dictators."

With a smile on his lips, Patrick reaches over and squeezes my hand. "I'm happy for you, Penelope." Pausing, he bites the inside of his cheek. "Do you think we could make this work? I want to get to know my sister. We missed out on so much."

I nod, my eyes welling with tears. "I'd like that. There's a lot of space between us. You must bear with me, though—this isn't something I expected to happen when I came to West Kelowna to open a coffee shop. Can we agree to keep this between ourselves until we've had some time? We can work out kinks and approach this without observers. I'll make sure Cassian doesn't say a word to Ophelia."

He nods. "I agree. I'll schedule that DNA test."

I breathe a sigh of relief. This conversation was easier than I thought. I'm still shaking and stuck in a state of shock. But at least the initial wave of emotions has passed. It's nice to know he's having a hard time. It makes me feel less alone.

My brother clears his throat. It still feels strange to call him my brother, but I force myself to do so. I need to get used to my new reality. "So, uh, do you want to finish dinner or leave? I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing anything on you. I understand if you need time away from this craziness."

Glancing down at my half-eaten salad, I work up the courage to stay. Just because I want to go home and talk to Cassian doesn't mean I should. Denying an ease to Patrick's curiosity would be rude. Besides, I missed growing up with Patrick. There's a lack of information between us. I shoot him a shaky smile. "I'll stay. I have more questions."

He sends me a sympathetic smile. "What do you want to know?"

*  *  *

It's late into the night when I arrive home. Cassian is waiting up for me in the kitchen, working on a plate of celery that's been slathered in peanut butter and raisins. He's also flipping through the book I borrowed from Gemma.

When I close the door behind me, he looks up and drops the book to the counter. He rushes over to me and pulls me into a tight hug. "Pen," he breathes. "How did it go?"

I hug him back, breathing in the scent of his warmth and spicy cologne. I've only been gone a few hours, and I missed him. "It was surreal," I admit. "But Patrick's agreed to take a DNA test with me." I dip my head down, staring directly at Cassian's broad chest. Although my arms have fallen from the hug, his are still wrapped tightly around my body. "I can't believe it, Cassian."

"Neither can I," he admits, rubbing my shoulder blade. "It makes sense, though. You and Patrick have similarities. I can't believe I didn't notice them at the beginning."

I stare up at Cassian, wondering what he would do if I closed the space between our lips. Kissing him and coaxing him into bed would be the perfect distraction. But the more I think about it, the more I realize I could never choose the friends with benefits option. Stepping back, I force out a yawn and say, "Today was exhausting. I'm going to go to bed. How are things going with Ophelia?"

I hate how supportive I am. I hate how supportive I am.

Cassian shrugs, a pained look splitting his face for a brief second. "I'll try again next week. When things are a little less hectic around here." He cocks his head to the side, searching my face. "Are you sure you're okay, Pen? You made a comment the other night that was... out of character."

Amid reaching for a cup, I freeze. Damn it. He remembers what I said.

You're in so deep you can't see what's in front of you.

I came across a little harsher than I intended. "It was nothing, Cassian," I lie. My biological connection to Ophelia has made things ten times more complicated. "Do you think you could keep Patrick and I's newfound sibling relationship a secret for now? We can share the news with Jake and Gemma, but no one else. Patrick's okay with that. He wants to meet them."

The frown on Cassian's face doesn't fade, but he nods in agreement. "Yeah. My lips are sealed."

Before he can spring another question on me, I fill my cup up and head for the bedroom.

I trust Cassian just as much as I love him, but some secrets, like the true meaning of my words, are better kept behind closed lips. Especially when they reveal my feelings.