“You should take these back,” my brother said, holding out the Christmas gifts I had brought for his

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Chapter 14

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“The girls’ school report cards came yesterday,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Maisie made the honor roll. Poppy is reading at a third-grade level. The headmaster wrote a note on the margin saying they were two of the kindest kids in their classes.”

A lump formed in my throat. “Dad would have been proud.”

“Dad would have told me to get my act together three years earlier,” Andrew said, a self-deprecating, honest smile touching the corners of his mouth. “He would have told me that a man who can’t pay his own rent has no business lecturing anyone about the time of day.”

He looked down at his boots, then back up at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I was so angry at you, Mer. In the elevator. In Gregory’s office. For months afterward, every time I had to write a check for the dry cleaner or fix that damn sink myself, I wanted to blame you. I told myself you were cold. I told myself you were jealous of what I had built.”

He took a slow, deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs.

“Then one night in May, I was sitting at my desk in St. Louis Park at eleven o'clock, looking at our actual bank balance. Eleven thousand dollars. Real dollars. Earned from clients who hired me because I gave them an honest assessment of their properties instead of selling them a fantasy. And I realized... you didn't destroy my life, Meredith. You saved my soul. If you hadn't stopped writing those checks, I would have dragged Celeste and the girls right over the cliff with me.”

He reached out, his hand shaking slightly, and placed his palm against my arm.

“I’m sorry, Mer. For the gala. For the coat. For every arrogant, selfish thing I ever said to you while taking your money. I am so deeply, truly sorry.”

The cold winter air drifted between us, but the space between our hearts was completely warm. The phantom weight of twenty years of unspoken rivalry, of performance and pretense, finally dissolved into the gray Minnesota dusk.

I reached out, wrapped my arms around my brother’s neck, and pulled him into a tight, fierce hug.

Andrew stiffened for a fraction of a second in surprise, then buried his face into my shoulder, his arms locking around my back as a single, quiet sob shook his chest.

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