Ian stood at the door, wearing an expression that mirrored a guilty defendant facing a stern judge - an apt comparison, given the circumstances. Just as he was about to press the doorbell once more, he hesitated as the door swung open, revealing Gabe's fatigued and worn-out countenance.
Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, both brothers maintaining an unspoken standoff. Gabe arched an eyebrow in inquiry, prompting Ian to lift the bottle in his hand. "I come bearing an apology."
A subtle flicker of sadness faded from Gabe's face as he quipped, "Macallan?" A wry smile played on his lips. "That's quite an expensive apology."
Ian nervously chuckled, a sheepish grin surfacing. "Well, I figured a standard apology wouldn't cut it this time."
Gabe's expression softened, and he stepped aside, gesturing for Ian to enter. With a hint of vulnerability, he spoke, "You were not wrong, Ian. I know that."
