But I made choice. I was good with it. That’s what mattered.
Mixed in with Dad’s calls was something unexpected. A missed call from Austin.
I stared at my brother’s name on the screen, hardly believing it. Austin hadn’t returned any of my calls or messages in forever.The fact that he’d reached out now, tonight, felt like more than coincidence.
Did Hudson call him? Tell him to call me?
Doubtful. I didn’t think any of my brothers were talking to him, and if they did, they weren’t admitting it.
But since I was obviously on the outs, I should probably find an ally with the other black sheep. I called him back, half expecting it to go straight to voicemail like every other attempt I’d made to contact him.
“Merry fucking Christmas, little brother,” Austin’s familiar voice came through the speaker. I felt sadness and elation. I missed the asshole. “Been a while.”
“Austin.” I couldn’t keep the relief out of my voice. “Where are you?”
“Oh, you know. Wherever I want to be.”
Vague as always, but it made me smile despite everything. That was pure Austin, giving just enough information to acknowledge the question without actually answering it. I hoped he was doing well, wherever he was. I’d always wanted the best for my older brother, even when he’d been cast out of the family for going against our father in ways I still didn’t fully understand.
I had felt the ripple effects of Austin’s exile, though. The way Dad’s expectations had shifted to me and Hudson, the way family gatherings had become exercises in avoiding mention of the missing Bancroft son. There was a shadow over everything even when no one acknowledged it directly. Austin was always the biggest elephant in the room, and in our crazy family, that was saying a lot. We had a whole fucking herd of elephants we ignored.
“I need some advice,” I said, deciding to cut straight to the heart of why I called him. “I’m about to do something crazy. Something I know will make Dad furious.”
“Whoa, hold up there,” Austin interrupted, though I could hear amusement in his voice. “You came to the wrong guy, Kent. If Dad disowns you too, I don’t want that on my head.”
Fair enough. Austin had his own complicated relationship with guilt and family loyalty. But I pressed on anyway.
“Do you regret it?” I asked. “Whatever happened between you and Dad. Do you regret standing up to him?”
The line went quiet for a moment, and I could practically hear Austin thinking through his answer.
“Sometimes,” he admitted. His voice lacked the usual cocky tone.
I hadn’t expected that level of honesty. The Austin I remembered was all bravado and devil-may-care attitude, at least on the surface. This glimpse of vulnerability was something new.
“But not enough to go back,” he added quickly. “Not enough to pretend I’m someone I’m not just to keep peace in the family.”
I took a breath and decided to lay it all out. “I’m about to go over Dad’s head and close a business deal that screws him out of a lot of potential profit. All because of a woman.”
Austin started laughing, really laughing, the kind of deep, genuine laughter I remembered from our childhood. “Oh, wait. You’re serious?”
“Dead serious.”
“Shit, Kent.” The laughter faded, replaced by respect. “What’s her name?”
“Sylvie. And before you ask, she’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. She’s everything I didn’t know I was looking for.”
“Shit,” Austin said softly. “You really are serious.”
“I am.”
Austin was quiet. I could hear wind in the background, like he was standing outdoors.
“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,” he said. “And for what it’s worth, it’s nice to hear that at least one of my brothers has some balls to make his own choices and step out from under the Bancroft shadow.”
Austin had always been the rebel, the one who’d refused to conform to family expectations. To hear him acknowledge my choices with pride made me feel like maybe I wasn’t completely losing my mind.
I wasn’t making a bad choice. I was doing the right thing for me. And like Sylvie liked to tell me all the time, my dad didn’t need any more money. None of us did.
