In three years of marriage, Darwin had never once mentioned having a twin brother.
Yet here he was, performing his role with the poise of an award-winning actor.
If that's the game they wanted to play, I didn't mind joining in.
I clasped his hand.
"Nadine."
As his palm brushed against my fingers, I felt the faint ridge of a familiar scar. It sent a sharp tremor through my chest.
"Brother-in-law, you have a scar on your palm?"
For just an instant, Darwin froze. But he recovered quickly.
"Got it when I fell as a kid," he said without batting an eyelid.
Tch. A smooth and effortless lie.
But I knew the truth. That scar existed because of me.
It was just after our wedding, during our honeymoon. He had taken me sea fishing when a sudden wave hit, capsizing the boat. I was thrown into the sea. Without a second's hesitation, Darwin jumped in after me. While keeping us afloat in the churning water, his hand got caught in a fishing line, slicing it open deep enough to bleed through the current.
"Nadine, don't cry. Look, I'm fine."
After we were rescued, he wrapped his heavily bandaged hand over his head, pretending to be a rabbit just to make me laugh.