"Why are you two together?" Estelle asked sharply, her gaze flicking between them.
"I thought you were working at the charity house?" she added.
"I was," Rosette replied, her tone calm but slightly nervous. "The thing is, the volunteers and the kids wanted to watch Red's baseball game. They just gave me a ride home afterward."
"So it's true—you've gone back to playing baseball after retiring," Bryan said, looking at Dranred.
"Yes," Dranred answered simply, his face unreadable. The air around them felt heavy, and he could feel Rosette's unease beside him. He didn't like the tension — not between old friends, and not in front of her.
He had recently found out from Peter that James had destroyed the phone he gave to Rosette. She hadn't told him — probably to keep him from worrying — but that knowledge had stayed with him, quietly burning.
Dranred didn't see James as an enemy. To him, James was still a friend. But deep inside, he knew one thing for certain: if James ever did anything to hurt Rosette again, he wouldn't hesitate to take her away — no matter what it cost.
"Go inside," James ordered, his voice sharp and commanding.
"James…" Rosette's voice was small. She would never dare defy him — not when he looked this serious. He wasn't just her brother; for the past ten years, he had been her mother, her father, her protector. Crossing him felt like starting a war she could never win.
She glanced at Dranred.
"It's fine," he said softly, meeting her eyes. "Go inside." His voice was calm, his look reassuring — as if telling her everything would be all right.
"Estelle, take Rosette inside," James said firmly. That tone again — the same one that left no room for refusal.
"Go ahead," Dranred murmured, giving Rosette a light pat on the back. Estelle stepped forward, took Rosette's hand, and gently pulled her away. Dranred's eyes followed them until they reached the doorway. Rosette looked back once, and Dranred gave her a faint smile and a nod — a silent promise that he could handle whatever was coming.
But she couldn't help worrying as the door closed behind her.
When they were finally alone, Dranred spoke first. "Don't get mad at her. It was my idea — I invited her to watch my game."
James's jaw tightened. "Just because your grandfather's in prison doesn't mean I've forgotten what your family did to my parents. And I haven't forgotten that you stole my dream."
"How could I forget?" Dranred replied quietly. "Every time we see each other, you make sure to remind me." He exhaled. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I only ask that you don't take it out on her—"
"Why would you care?" James cut him off sharply. "You're nothing but a stranger to this family. I thought when you showed up at Estelle's wedding, you'd finally learned to keep your distance. I even allowed you to come. But it looks like you had other plans. If you're thinking of using Rose—"
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Dranred snapped, his composure breaking. "You know better than anyone that Rosette is like a sister to me — just as I've always seen you as a brother."
"Really?" James's tone was low, bitter. "Then what kind of brother steals another man's dream?"
"What!?" Dranred's voice trembled with disbelief. He thought everything about the past had ended when his grandfather went to prison — but clearly, James didn't see it that way. In James's eyes, he was still nothing more than a traitor.
"While I owe you a debt of gratitude for helping Rosette regain her sight," James said coldly, "that doesn't erase your sins. Your lifetime won't be enough to repay what we lost. If our friendship ever meant anything to you, even a little, stay away from Rosette. As long as I'm alive, I won't let you hurt another one of my siblings."
"It's something I can't do," Dranred answered firmly.
"What did you just say?" James shot back, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
"It's not for you to decide," Dranred said, meeting his gaze without flinching. "She's someone special — more than family. You can hate me all you want, but staying away from her is something I will never do."
James said nothing. He stared into Dranred's eyes, suddenly feeling the chill that came from the man standing before him. Ten years had passed, yet in this moment, he realized — he no longer knew this person. Dranred's resolve was solid, immovable.
"I'm not asking," James said at last, his voice low and cold. "That was a warning. Stay away from Rosette." He turned away before Dranred could respond, walking to the gate.
"You should leave," he added, pulling the gate shut behind him.
Dranred stood there for a moment, breathing out a long sigh before finally heading to his car.
Inside, Peter glanced at him from the driver's seat. "Did you really have to say that?" he asked quietly.
Dranred leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes. "Was there something wrong with what I said?" He rubbed his temples, the weight of the confrontation finally sinking in. Deep down, even he wasn't sure anymore if those words came from reason — or from emotion.
"What do you feel about that girl?" Peter asked as he started the engine and eased the car onto the road.
Dranred, who still had one hand covering his eyes, suddenly opened them at the question. It struck him harder than he expected.
"You always say she's like a sister to you. But do you even realize—"
"Peter," Dranred interrupted, his tone quiet but firm.
Peter stopped talking.
"I meant what I said," Dranred continued after a pause. "She's someone special… she's family. I like her as a sister."
"Is that so?" Peter asked, eyes fixed on the road.
"At least, that's what I thought," Dranred admitted softly.
Peter gave a faint chuckle. "If I may borrow your own words, you're hopeless."
"What?" Dranred shot him a glare.
"Earlier," Peter said, glancing at him briefly, "you told her it annoyed you when other guys looked at her. Are you saying that because you see her as a sister too?"
Dranred turned toward the window. "I don't know… really."
"You should figure it out," Peter said. "Otherwise, she'll be the one who ends up hurt."
Dranred didn't answer. His eyes stayed on the passing scenery outside the window, but his thoughts were far away.
He kept telling himself that Rosette was like a little sister — someone he needed to protect. But lately, that protectiveness had started to feel different. The thought of someone else making her smile, of another man standing close to her, made his chest tighten.
Was it just brotherly care? Or something else entirely?
He didn't know. All he knew was that Rosette mattered — too much, perhaps — and that realization scared him more than he wanted to admit.