Page 88 of The Geography of Happiness

“Bloody oath, it was,” he grumbled. “Jeez, Spence, you were only a kid yourself. And regarding what’s fair, the whole damn situation was unfair. Toallof us. But I’ll tell you this much.” He shuffled around until we were eye to eye. “When you left me in charge, I learned pretty damn fast just how much you’d sacrificed to make sure us kids were looked after.”

Tears filled my eyes and I let them fall. “I didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out. I wanted you to feel like you were?—”

“Loved?” He smiled tenderly. “We absolutely felt loved, by you at least. And we felt safe. Butyoumissed out, big brother. You missed out big time. We had you to rely on, but who did you have? None of us will forget what you did and what it cost you. Would we have liked to see you more after you left home? Sure. But you’d given us a childhood at the expense of your own, and we might not have liked it, but we understood.” He wriggled back alongside and slipped an arm around my shoulders. “It must’ve been so fucking lonely being you back then.”

It was.It is.Something tightened in my chest that felt a lot like grief. This had been a conversation long in the making and a jumble of emotions collided in my heart, a complex snare of guilt and pain and yes, loneliness. But also of love.

“I felt—feelso guilty for just disappearing from your lives like that,” I admitted in a broken voice. “And then I didn’t know how to make it better. We drifted apart and I feel like it was my fault. If I’d done a better job?—”

“Just stop, will you?” Derek shook me gently. “To be perfectly frank, by the time you left, I for one needed a little space from your bossy ways.”

I spun to face him, dislodging Miller in the process. “What?”

He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. You bossed us around for ten years. A brother acting like a parent? It was a hard pill to swallow most days, especially when we were young. All we saw was you being given ‘privileges,’ like getting a car and a slush fund that none of us were allowed to touch. It never occurred to us that it was only so that you could dotheirjob more efficiently. Later on, we understood.”

I fell back on the mattress and laughter bubbled up my throat. “Jesus Christ. After all I did for you ungrateful lot.”

Derek slid down next to me, both of us staring up at the ceiling. He elbowed me none-too-gently. “You’re still fucking bossy.”

I snorted. “Am not.”

“Are so.”

We both laughed, then he rolled on his side to face me. “So come on, I want to know more about this guy you’ve fallen for. What makes him so different?”

I sighed. “It’s . . . complicated.”

“Don’t do that,” Derek practically growled. “Don’t treat me like a kid who won’t understand. Just because you looked after us when we were little doesn’t make you some kind of guru in our lives. I’ve learned a shit ton about life and relationships since I left the farm—stuff that your single fancy-free arse has zero idea about. You are no longer the only voice of experience in the room, Spence, so you can shelve the parental bullshit and give the rest of us a little credit.”

His words hit home with an indisputable sting of truth, and I rolled to face him. “Is that what it feels like? Is that why the others haven’t kept in touch with us?”

“Withyou,” he said softly, and I felt like I’d been sucker punched.

“They talk to . . . you?” His words stung.

Derek shrugged. “A little.” But I saw the truth in his eyes. Then he said something that rocked me to the core. “I think the more important question is why haven’tyoukept in touch withthem?”

“Me?” A jumble of excuses started running through my head. “I... well... I thought—shit, I don’t know what I thought.” I fell back against the bedhead.

Derek scrutinised my face. “Maybe I can help with that. I think you were worried we’d want to dump all our problems on you, like we did as kids?”

My gaze shot to his and I wanted to argue, but he was right.

He nodded sadly. “Yeah, I thought so. Well, let me disavow you of that notion right now. Incredible as it might seem, the three of us have done just fine on our own since you left. We can even solve our own problems for the most part. Go figure. We want more connection with you, sure, but we want that with ourbrother, not the pseudo parent he used to be. But you haven’t exactly made that easy. Every time Icall—sinceyoudon’t very often—it’s like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. It made it hard to tell you about the divorce. I didn’t want to sound like I was asking for help, even though I kind of was.”

Jesus Christ, how had I missed all this?And then it hit me. “You asked the others to come, didn’t you? It wasn’t their idea.”

Derek had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I...suggestedit might be a good opportunity to clear the air before you finally leave for Adelaide.”

I huffed out a laugh. “I’m only going for a week.”

“Maybe. But you leave for good in January and we sure as hell won’t see you over Christmas and New Year, right?” He arched a brow, and I was pretty sure I blushed.

“I need to change that, don’t I?”

He snorted. “Ya think? Anyway, I figured it’s now or never.”

“Who’s being the parent now?”

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