He sat at the kitchen island, scanning through the newspaper as he sipped on his morning coffee. She stood facing the stove, her back to him. The sun rays that peaked through the curtains warmed her back through her worn wool sweater. She used a spatula to flip the bacon and eggs that sizzled in copper frying pans. Ding! She grabbed toast and added it to a plate next to an egg and two strips of bacon. The plate was placed in front of him. His voice was gravelly. “Thank you Jane.”

She turned to him with wide green eyes. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but she hesitated. Matthew glanced up after a few seconds of silence, his forehead creased in concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Can I… can I ask you something?” Jane asked the question timidly, as if she was bracing herself for his reaction. She began to fiddle with the worn gold band on her left hand, something she only did was she was nervous.

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you visit your brother?” Immediately after the words left her mouth, his eyes darkened with anger. His fingers gripped his mug so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

“Jane, we agreed to never talk about him.”

“I’m sorry Matthew. But it’s been years since the incident. Don’t you think---.”

“Dammit Jane!” He slammed his hand on the table and she flinched. The forgotten bacon on the stove began to smoke and burn but she paid it no attention. Her fearful eyes were trained on her husband. He sighed. “I’m sorry darling. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just...you know...you know how sensitive that subject is.”

“I know how awful it was for you,” she walked around the island and placed a comforting hand on the small of his back. Her steady voice and loving gestures did nothing to calm him down. His shoulders were tense with anger. “But maybe he deserves a second chance. You haven’t talked to him in years.”

He turned to her, his eyes shining with tears from years of built up emotions. Hate, disbelief, fury, sadness. His voice was shaking “No amount of talking will ever bring justice to his actions. I could never forgive him for what he did.”

His voice dropped, to the point of it almost being a whisper. She strained to listen to his words. “He’s a monster. My brother is a monster.” Matthew’s voice broke as he began sobbing like a child. Jane wrapped her arms around him as he sobbed. He sobbed for the years he blamed himself. He sobbed for the days spent inside at the kitchen table nursing the bottle of whiskey, drinking away his sorrows. He sobbed for his best friend, who he spent years fighting for and defending, only to be betrayed by him. The one he cares about most.