Page 78 of Wish You Would

He merely lifted a brow. “Do you want to perform again?”

“I don’t need—”

“Do you want,” he repeated, “to perform?”

I looked from him to the empty stage in the corner, envisioning the last time I stood there. The adrenaline, the euphoria, the pure elation. I smiled without meaning to. When I looked back to my brother, he was nodding. “There’s your answer.”

“But I can’t just…go,” I said, “I can’t leave you.”

Again.

It’s an unspoken word, but we both heard it. Vaughn reached out and covered my hands with his. “Gi,” he said, “you can’t punish yourself forever.”

My eyes burned. I tried to blink the tears away, but they fell anyway. “Why?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “Why do I deserve to be happy after…after I left you alone? After I left Dad—”

“Because he wouldn’t want you to be sad.” He said it with fire, squeezing my hand hard. “Do you think our dad, the kindest man to ever walk this earth, the man who would have done anything for his children, would want his own sacrifices to be in vain? Would want his daughter, who he adored more than anything, to be unhappy?”

The tears fell in earnest now, splashing over our clasped hands. I watched the rivulets fall over our inked skin, unable to look up. “I…I want to go back,” I whispered, “I want a do over. He…he deserved more than…more than me.”

“Georgia Murphy.” Vaughn’s voice was stern. “Look at me.”

Slowly, I raised my head. Vaughn’s face was more serious than I’d ever seen it. It was almost enough to stop the tears from falling.

Almost.

“He was proud of you,” he said once he was sure I was listening. “Till the very fucking end, he was proud of you. He would tell anyone that listened that his baby girl was out there, seeing the world. That she was braver than he ever was.” I started to scoff, but the look on his face killed it before it could leave me. “He learned how to use my laptop to find videos of your performances online, and then he would make everyone watch them.”

“What?” My brain tried to wrap around what Vaughn was saying, but it wasn’t quite computing. “He…he did that?”

“He did.” Vaughn smiled then, the eye-crinkling smile that he stole from Dad. “It was fucking obnoxious, too, the way he’d make us watch them over and over.”

“I…I didn’t know that.” My heart warmed in corners that had been arctic for years as I pictured our old man forcing his regulars to watch me sing on a cruise ship in the middle of nowhere. “I wish I knew that.”

“Yeah, well.” He looked down, wincing. “I was pissed when you came home, so I didn’t tell you.” Glancing up, he added, “I’m sorry about that.”

“You had every right to be pissed. You should still be pissed.”

“Nah. Takes too much energy.” He patted my hand then pulled his back across the table. “But seemed like you needed to know it now.”

I nodded, blinking away yet another bout of tears. “Thank you. For telling me.”

Vaughn tilted his head. “He’d kick your ass, you know, if he could see this martyr shit you’re pulling.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Yeah, well. I’m done with that.” His brown eyes warmed on mine. “You should be, too.”

We sat for a few quiet moments, looking at each other, letting the memories, the revelations, and the lessons settle over us. Then, Vaughn stood. “I think you should take the gig,” he said as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head.

Then, he walked away.

I stared after him, emotion after emotion surging through me, like waves against rocks. I gripped the table and braced myself until my insides subsided. Then, I stood and headed for the office. I needed some quiet before the bar opened. Some solitude.

Once I reached the office, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. My gaze immediately found the framed photograph hanging above Vaughn’s desk and, with a shaky breath, I reached for it and pulled it down.

My high school graduation. Maybe the last picture we all took together before I left. I was sandwiched between Dad and Vaughn, both towering above me. Both with smiles that crinkled their eyes. Vaughn had always looked like our father, but more and more these days, I saw the old man in him. It made me ache.

I ran a finger over baby Gigi, her impulsive pixie cut and dark lipstick making her look like a little girl playing dress-up. God, I thought I knew it all then. I thought I had everything figured out.

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