“I know you love me, Hugh,” I whispered brokenly, as I straddled his lap. “But you love him more.” “No. I don’t.” Looking sad, Hugh slowly shook his head. “Not even close.” Yeah, he did. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Hugh loved Gerard Gibson like a brother. They had a bond that ran far deeper than friendship. Their lives were entangled in a way that was deeper than anything I’d ever known. There had been many occasions throughout the years when I had wished my own sister had loved me like Hugh loved him. I understood why, of course. I once loved him like a brother, too. Until he
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