Page 98 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends
He pauses. “I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“You didn’t make it better.”
“No.” He says it with weight. Not just guilt—grief.
I sit back again, trying to breathe through the pressure building behind my eyes. And then something clicks. “She didn’t want me to be like you.”
Jamison glances over. “She wanted you to be famous, yes. But onherterms.”
“I loved acting.”
“I know.”
“She said casting directors didn’t want to work with me because of you. That your reputation tanked my career before it could ever get off the ground.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, frustrated. “I was there at the start of your career, Gavin. She canceled callbacks. Blacklisted people she didn’t approve of. Remember all those scheduling conflicts? I figured out it was her. When I confronted her about it, she said your talent was being wasted in front of the camera, and she was doing you a favor.”
I sit up straighter, blood roaring in my ears. “What?”
“She sabotaged you. Quietly. Strategically.”
“But I thought—” My breath catches. Does it matter what I thought? One more lie to add to Vivian’s pile. “But she tried—I saw her chase down a casting director who said they went with someone else.”
“Did you hear the conversation or just see it from a distance?”
My stomach flips. “Distance.”
He nods. “Truth is, Vivian is a great actress. A pity she never used her talents for good instead of evil.”
All this time. The bitterness. This distance between us.
Manufactured by my mother.
I think of every missed opportunity. The scripts I never got to read. the times I walked away from something I loved because I believed I’d inherited his shame.
Parker. I let her go because I knew I’d hurt her the way my father hurt my mom.
“Shemanagedme,” I whisper. “She controlled everything.”
“She still does, doesn’t she?”
A long silence stretches between us.
I finally look at him again, eyes burning. “Why didn’t you fight harder?”
“I didn’t want to mess you up more than I already had.”
“You didn’t mess me up.”
He smiles, faint and sad. “Didn’t I?”
I want to tell him no. I want to say that I would’ve found my way here either way. But the truth is? I don’t know. Because everything I built—all the control, the image, the cold logic—it started with that first lie I believed.
Now I don’t even know which parts of my life were mine.
He must see something in my face, because he reaches across the table and sets a hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Gavin. I should have done more. Been better. Been there for you. I let her have fullcustody because I thought that would be easier on you. I’ve seen how split custody messes up kids. I didn’t want that for you. But I’m still sorry I didn’t try harder. Or do something different.”
And I believe him. I nod once. Then look at him. “Why did you stay with her as long as you did?”
