Standing at the airport, Alistair waited. Endless people passed by as he waited. An array of languages filtered through his ears as tourists and residents filed through the Malaga airport. Quentin was coming via Rome and they were taking an age to get through. 

Both nervousness and anticipation clashed inside him. Not exactly nervousness, but he was getting fucking married. Quentin might think him insane. In fact, Alistair wasn’t sure what Quentin would think. They’d spent remarkably little time together of late, off doing their own things. In fact, it had been a few years since they had lived together now. There was a distance there, and maybe that was part of the reason he was nervous. 

Finally, Quentin came out of the sliding doors, looking older and more mature. His little brother seemed to have frozen as a teenager in his mind’s eye, but here was a grown man, followed by his girl, who appeared wearing shorts and a thin leather jacket. They both looked smart and very comfortable with each other. Alistair had only met her briefly before, barely knew Adelaide, but his brother was devoted to her, and that was something Alistair got now—being devoted to your girl. 

“Hey,” he said and they embraced. It was strange to be with his brother again. “How was the flight?” 

“Good,” Quentin said and Alistair leaned over and kissed Adelaide on the cheek. “Long.” 

“Car’s right outside.” He’d forked out for one of the nearby parks and he led them, both pulling small suitcases on wheels. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard Spanish,” Adelaide said with a smile. “It’s nice to be back.” 

“How’s life in Indonesia?” Alistair asked as he placed their bags in the boot and they got in. 

“Good. It’s been really good to us,” Quentin said. 

Adelaide went on to elaborate. “The town we live in has a really small expat community, which is quite tight. It’s nice. It almost has a little village feel to it, even as we live in quite a large city. Everyone knows everyone, you know. There are the Yanks, Brits, the Aussies, and an assortment of others.” Her accent had that singing lilt that Kiwis had. 

“Berlin is nothing like that,” Alistair said. “It seems like everyone and their dog has moved there. In a sense, it is changing before our eyes.” 

“Are you going to stay?” Quentin asked. 

Alistair shrugged. “We’ve made no plans otherwise. You?” 

“We’re talking about it, about whether it’s time to go somewhere else. Return here, maybe.” 

The motorway down to Marbella was clear so it didn’t take them long. 

“Things look familiar,” Adelaide said from the back, watching as they passed. “It’s almost a little surreal to be back.” 

They continued in silence until Alistair pulled into the gate of their property and followed the long, curving driveway to the house. “Home, sweet home. No one is living here now, so there is no reason you guys can’t.” 

Adelaide and Quentin looked at each other, and Alistair knew they’d definitely talked about it. It would be nice to have Quentin back in Europe again. Terese still didn’t love coming back to Marbella, but she would be more open to it if Quentin was here. 

“Hello, darling,” their mother said, coming out of the house. “It’s been ages. When are you going to come see me?” 

“Right now,” Quentin said, letting himself be fussed over by his mother. 

“And Adelaide, darling,” their mother said. “How are you? I hope the flight went well.” 

“Everything went perfectly. I’m a bit tired.” 

“Of course. You must come for drinks. Your father is out buying more wine. The caterers’ range was a little limited. You’ve been here before, of course,” she said to Adelaide. “It’s so good to see everyone. Alistair getting married, can you believe it? Gives a mother hope there might actually be grandchildren one day.” 

A bit of colour travelled up Adelaide’s cheeks at the comment. Was that something she and Quentin had discussed too? Hopefully she actually was pregnant so the pressure would come off him. Terese was not ready to embrace motherhood just yet. She loved her life in Berlin, loved her work. They were certainly not in a rush to invite such chaos into their lives. 

“I might freshen up a bit,” Adelaide. 

“I’m sure you know your way around the house without me having to tell you,” Mother said, that little tinge of disapproval in her voice that she got when she acknowledged that her boys were not the perfect innocent angels it would please her to brag to her friends about. 

“I think I’ll manage,” Adelaide said and wandered off. 

“Oh, the planner is here. Poor Terese is rushed off her feet. I might see if I can help. I am sure you boys can see yourselves to drinks.” 

“We are well versed in that regard,” Alistair said as their mother retreated. For a while, when they had been young and troublesome, their mother had given up and thrown her arms up in exasperation, convinced they were always going to be tearaways, but she was certainly embracing being mother of the groom. 

Alistair could hear her speaking in Spanish to the planner. She had always been good with languages, and had embraced living here when they’d been young. Now their parents were gone, living in the Bahamas and spending more time on that side of the world. Marbella had fallen by the wayside, but it would always be Alistair’s home—Quentin’s too. 

“Whiskey?” Alistair asked. 

“Sure.” 

There were people all over the house—carrying, cleaning, sorting. This whole wedding was a production. “How’s Terese doing?” Quentin asked. 

“She’d good. She’s a professional at this stuff, so it doesn’t phase her. Cool under pressure.” 

Grabbing a bottle and two tumblers from the bar, they went and sat down at the more remote seating area. 

Quentin took off his jacket and relaxed. “It’s nice to be back. Nice that everyone is here. I can’t remember the last time we were all together. Seen anyone else?” 

“I had dinner with Felix the other day. He’s alright. He’s never leaving here. Managed to get his shit together finally, though.” 

“Seemed touch and go in that regard for a while. I can’t believe you’re getting married. How did she talk you into it?” 

“It was my idea, actually,” Alistair admitted. “It just seemed like the right step.” 

Quentin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“Maybe I got tired of introducing her as my girlfriend. And I know Terese would appreciate a wedding day, where she can show off who she is to the world.” 

“She needs that?” 

“No. Perhaps in Marbella. A lot of people gave her a hard time here, and I certainly didn’t help. Besides, there is no reason not to get married.” 

“Mother is over the moon.” 

“What about you? You’re considering coming back, huh?” 

“Well, my project is coming to an end and we’re thinking about what to do next. Stay on in Asia, or return here. I don’t really know. Adelaide is open to going just about anywhere.” 

“You two seem happy together.” 

“Yeah, we are. You just get worried changing this little cocoon you have been living in, you know? Our lives are very simple in Indonesia. We have everything the way we like it, and now we’re thinking about throwing everything up in the air and starting over.” 

“What’s on the opportunities front? I got Tae Azmer coming to my wedding, by the way. Speaking of opportunities. We’re working together on financial for his current project in Dubai.” 

Quentin appeared to be thinking this over. “I don’t know. I might go chat with Alexi Sumneroff. He helped me get started with this last one. I kind of feel like I owe him.” 

“He wouldn’t feel the same way,’’ Alistair pointed out. With guys like Tae and Alexi, it was all about the money. Loyalty didn’t come into it. A good project was a good project, unless the risk was too high. Quentin had delivered, so his risk profile looked better now than before. 

“I don’t know. I’ll cast around and see what turns up.” 

“I can always help with the financing.” 

* 

The catering seemed to be in place, the decorators finishing off what they were doing. At the last minute, everything was coming together. Mother couldn’t help herself and was bossing all the contractors around, even as she had no idea what their plans actually were. If she kept going, Terese could come down and find her whole wedding changed. But telling Mother to stop would be like telling her to not breathe. Hopefully Terese wouldn’t mind too much. 

Looking smart in his suit, Alistair’s father approached. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, not since going to New York on a trip last year. Pleased, his father clapped him on the back. “So, you’re getting married. Big step.” Was it? As far as Alistair could see, it was only a party. It would change very little, but obviously, his father thought it meant more. “Terese is a lovely girl. You two seem very happy together. A darn sight better than that other girl. The one in London. What was her name?” 

“Araminth,” Alistair said, pulling out a name he hadn’t spoken, or even thought about, for a long time. 

“Something not quite right about that girl.” 

“There were a lot of things not right about her. Married to some Goldman Sachs turd now, I understand.” 

His father had lost interest. “The house is here if you wish to use it. We don’t quite know what to do with it. Marcie won’t sell it. Too many memories. Your mother was always sentimental.” 

“Not sure what we will be up to. We’ve got it pretty good in Berlin.” 

“Of course. This is a great place to raise children. A man can’t have complaints about how you two turned out.” 

Hold your horses, Alistair wanted to say. Children is a big step. “Not something we’ve even talked about.” 

“Don’t want to wait too long.” Was his father clucky for grandchildren? That was something Alistair had never seen coming. His mother yes, probably from the time they were sexually active, she’d secretly wished one of them would knock up some girl, but his father longing for children took quite some adjustment. The man hadn’t really been around that much as they’d been growing up—too busy setting up his empire. “All that matters, in the end.” 

God, was he drunk? Seeing his father sentimental like this was almost terrifying. “Eventually, we will get there.” 

“Oh, the Allersons. I must say hello. I didn’t know you invited them.” 

“Neither did I,” Alistair said, but his father had already disappeared—off to yak with people he hadn’t seen in a long time. Maybe seeing all these people would attract his parents back here. That wouldn’t be so bad. It would be nice to come back here to see his parents—in a place that represented his childhood. 

People were arriving and it seemed everyone wanted to speak to him. Cecil, his buddy who’d arrived from London last night, was hitting on some girl. Quentin was nowhere to be seen. Around him were all the people that had meant something to him throughout his life. It was strange having everyone here. Kind of touching. 

Suddenly, he felt lonely. His entire history was here milling around, but his present and his future was upstairs. He really wanted to see her. Excusing himself, he snuck away upstairs, walking softly down the carpeted corridor until he reached the room he knew Terese was in, and knocked softly. 

“Come in,” he heard her call, happy to hear her voice. It seemed she hadn’t run off. 

“Hey,” he said as he stuck his head in the door. There she was, standing in white. Her hair was swept back with small white flowers in it. The dress was simple. Simple material, a long, soft skirt and the back was bared with tied knots, creating a mesh down her back. He was going to take that off later. Terese was never going to look like a meringue. Her dress was simple, both earthy and ethereal. 

“Hello, Alistair,” said Cassandra, Terese’s mother. “Not much for the not seeing the bride before rule?” 

“Not big on senseless rules.” 

“I’ll just see that they are treating the bouquet right. Can’t have it wilting before we start.” 

Cassandra disappeared, leaving them alone. 

“You look beautiful,” he said and she smiled. “So I guess we are doing this.” 

“Do you like the dress?” 

“It’s perfect. I couldn’t imagine you in anything else.” 

Approaching her, he put his arms around her, drawing in her scent. He loved the way she smelled. Slowly, he placed his chin on her shoulder. “Everyone is here, more or less.” 

“It seems we should be on time.” 

“Nothing flusters you. Not even your own wedding.” 

“I’m flustered enough—just hiding it.” 

“It’s strange seeing everyone.” 

“Are you packed for later?” She leant her head to his, a soft intimacy. “The flight leaves in six hours.” 

“Provided no one has moved my bag.” 

For a moment, he just stared at her through the mirror. They were getting married today. It felt right on every level, and this meant more than just a party, as he had told people. 

Running his hand down the soft material of her dress, he felt the curves of her body and himself tighten. God, he wanted her right then. They looked so perfect together, but it would mess up her perfectly done hair and makeup. It might look graciously wind swept, but he knew concerted and professional effort had made it look that way. They would have ten days in the Seychelles to do nothing but enjoy each other. 

“Father started asking about grandchildren,” he said, his hand stopping to rest on her flat stomach. The idea of a child growing inside her was oddly satisfying. Would they be good parents to some little tyke that looked like both of them? The tightening in his body intensified. Perhaps they would come away from this vacation with a bit of him inside her. 

“What are you thinking? You’re looking really longingly,” she said. 

“Am I?” he said with surprise. “I mean it wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?” The heat of her body radiated through to his hand. 

“It would change so much about our lives.” 

“It wouldn’t change us. Although, in saying that,” he said, stepping away from her, “maybe it is something we’re not ready for.” Biting his lips, he looked at her through the mirror again. “Maybe I am being sentimental being back here. I had a great childhood here. This place is a little bit of paradise, isn’t it?” 

“You want to move back here?” 

“Eventually, I suppose. I think when it comes down to having kids, maybe I do.” 

“It would mean me giving up my job, of course.” 

“You would have to start your own agency.” 

“In Marbella.” 

The look on her face wasn’t angry disbelief; she was more stating facts, which gave him hope that it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. “I know Berlin is at the very heart of your industry, but do we have to swim in the biggest pond? I mean, do either of us have anything to prove now? I can run my business anywhere, and you’re already well-known in what you do. You’ve made it, you know? Coming to Marbella and starting your own agency would be small in comparison, but it could be something that is all yours.” 

Terese stared at him for a while, then smiled. “And this has nothing to do with moving back here before your brother?” 

“Of course not.” 

“Because you always have to do everything before your brother.” 

“That’s not true.” Even as he said it, he couldn’t back it up. Competing with Quentin was ingrained into his very psyche. Okay, maybe there was the tiniest bit of truth there. Them moving into this house before Quentin would be a bit of a triumph, particularly as Quentin was starting to consider coming back. “It hadn’t been foremost in my mind.” And that was true. “It’s just that the idea of having a kid with you isn’t… distressing.” 

In his mind’s eye, he could see Terese swollen with child, her belly heavy and distended. And apparently he could find that inordinately sexy. 

It would be utterly despicable to accidentally on purpose misplace her birth control and they would be without it in their lovely hotel room in the Seychelles. Yes, that would be despicable. Utterly. It would be a lie to say it didn’t cross his mind. Fucking her with absolutely no barriers sent a sharp thrill through him. 

He wouldn’t, though. Terese would be livid and manipulating her was not something she would ever be receptive to. She was accepting of most things, as long as he was honest. He loved that about her. There was nothing about himself that he needed to hide. “All I am saying is that if your bag with your pill ended up on the other side of the world, I would still be up for it.” And he really would. 

“Is that so?” she said a little tartly, giving him a chiding look. “I think you are being sentimental.” 

Maybe, but somehow he didn’t think so. This idea might just have taken root to sit in the back of his mind from now on. “Yeah, maybe,” he said. “Can’t we just mess up your hair and makeup a little?” 

“You can wait two hours,” she said with a smile. 

“Just two?” 

“Out you go. A girl needs to prepare, and please ensure chaos does not ensue downstairs.” 

“Fine,” he said and kissed her lightly on her perfectly made up lips. Then he left her, thinking that discussion hadn’t gone badly at all. There hadn’t been complete and outright rejection of the concept. As he walked down the stairs, he could imagine little boys running through the house, spending hours in the pool outside—fighting and competing. Maybe a girl too—a mini version of Terese. 

Alistair smiled. It felt as though they were on the way to a lovely destination.