Chapter 47

Brian's POV

My hands gripped the cold iron bars of the Thompson estate gates,knuckles turning white as I watched Annie and Lucy in the garden. Lucy's arms moved in graceful arcs, perfectly mimicking Annie's butterfly pose from their exercise routine. A familiar ache spread through my chest -Annie used to read me stories just like she was doing with Lucy now.

"That's perfect, sweetheart!" Annie's voice carried through the evening air as she guided Lucy through what looked like a therapy session. The lttle girl responded by throwing her arms around Annie's neck, nearly toppling them both. My throat tightened as Annie caught Lucy, their shared laughter echoing across the lawn. I used to hug Annie like that too,before Sarah taught me it was wrong to love my "boring" mom.

A tall man emerged from the house-Howard Thompson. I'd seen him in Dad's business magazines. His usual stern CEO expression melted as he watched them.Something in the way he looked at Annie made my stomach twist - it wasn't the calculating way Dad looked at her when he wanted to manipulate her feelings.Lucy grabbed Howard's hand while reaching back for Annie, forming a perfect chain as they disappeared inside. A real family. A complete family.

My mind flashed back to the night everything changed. I'd asked Annie if she and Dad could get divorced, complaining about her making me eat special food while Sarah let me have McDonald's. I didn't understand then why she looked so hurt when she found my iPad with the "My Perfect Family" group chat. I was too excited about having Sarah as my "fun mom" who didn't care about my food allergies or health issues. I remember the morning after,how I'd thrown my special breakfast across the kitchen, screaming that Annie had ruined everything by disbanding my family group chat. How I'd hidden behind Sarah at school, pretending not to know my own mother when the teachers almost called the police.The memory of Annie's devastated face as I declared Sarah was my real mom now made me feel sick.

How many times after that had I rejected Annie's carefully packed lunches,demanding pizza like Max got to eat? How many times had I seen her trying to explain my allergies to Sarah, only to be dismissed as overprotective? How many times had I complained about Annie's "stupid rules" while she fought alone to keep me healthy?

My fingers unclenched from the bars, leaving half-moon imprintsin my palms. Now Annie had a new daughter who adored her, who didn't pull away from her hugs or throw tantrums when she tried to help with homework. She had a man who looked at her like she was precious,not an obligation. She didn't need the son who'd thrown her love back in her face.

"Mama," the word escaped in a broken whisper before I could stop it.

Behind me, the family driver shifted uncomfortably. "Shall we head back?"

I squared my shoulders,swallowing against the burning in my throat."Take me to Grandma Betty's instead."

Betty was father's mother. She wwas very fond of me. Grandma's fingers fumbled with her keys when she saw me on her doorstep. "Brian? What are you doing here,sweetheart?" I forced my lips into what I hoped was a normal smile. "I missed you,Grandma."

Her eyes narrowed, catching the tremor in my voice. "Have you eaten dinner yet?"

I shook my head, and she practically flew into action. "I'Il make your favorite noodles. Extra dumplings, just how you like them."

Following her into the kitchen, I watched her gather ingredients with practiced efficiency. Her movements were so like Annie's - the way she hummed while chopping vegetables, how she checked the water temperature with her wrist. The familiar gestures made something crack inside my chest.

"I miss Mama," The words burst out between sobs I couldn't contain anymore. "I miss her so much!"

Grandma's knife clattered against the cutting board as she rushed to wrap her arms around me. "Oh, sweetheart. We can call her right now, ask her to come see you-"

"She doesn't want me anymore!" My hands clutched at Grandma's sweater."She has Lucy now, and Howard, and they're happy without me!"

"That ungrateful woman!" Grandma's voice turned sharp. "After everything our family did for her, how dare she abandon her own son-"

"No!" I jerked away, surprising us both. "It's not her fault, Grandma. It's not..." My voice broke as I remembered Annie's face the day I'd told her I was going to live with Dad and Sarah. She'd knelt down to my level,hands trembling as she helped pack my favorite toys. *"Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart,"* she'd whispered, but now I understood the pain behind her brave smile.

"Grandma?" I tugged at her sleeve, desperate to change the subject before the memories overwhelmed me. "Could you maybe... get me a tutor?"

"A tutor?" She blinked at the sudden shift. "Whatever for?"

My fingers tracedl invisible words on the counter. "I want to study harder.Especially writing. I need to practice my writing."

Like the birthday cards Annie sent every year, carefully addressed in her beautiful handwriting. The ones I'd crumpled up without reading, too angry to see the love in every perfectly formed letter.

Dad's voice crackled through my phone later that night, distracted as always. "Are you coming home?"

"No." The word came out harder than I'd intended.

"Well, I have good news," he continued, not noticing my tone. "I bought Sarah and Max a new place. They've already mnoved out, so you don't have to worry about-"

My hand tightened arounad the phone. "You bought them a house? As a gift?"

"That's right." Pride colored his voice. "A nice penthouse on Pak Avenue." Something cold settled in my stomach as I remembered Annie's tin studio,crammed into the corner of our old living room. She'd complained, just made the most of the small space, hanging my draw alongside her work.

"Dad?" I kept my voice carefully steady. "Can I have a house too?"

"Of course, son!" His laugh was warm and generous - the laugh he used when he was in a giving mood. "Which one would you like? That new development in Tribeca is quite nice-"

"I want our old house." The words fell like stones between us. "The one where Annie and I used to live."

The silence stretched until I could hear Dad's breathing change. "Brian..."

"You never bought Annie anything," My voice cracked on the truth I'd been too young to see. "Not a car, not jewelry, not even that art studio she wanted. But you bought Sarah a penthouse."

"That's different-"

"Why?" The question burned in my throat. "Because you love Sarah more than you ever loved Annie?"

I hung up before he could answer, my hands shaking as I stared at Annie's number in my contacts. There were so many things I needed to tell her.That I was sorry. That I understood now. That I missed her sugar cookies and bedtime stories and the way she always knew exactly when I was pretending not to be scared of thunderstorms. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, I curled up in Grandma's guest bed,pressing my face ínto a pillow that still held traces of Annie's jasmine perfume from her last visit. Tomorrow, I decided as tears slid silently into the fabric, I would start practicing my writing. Maybe when I could make the letters as beautiful as Annie's drawings, I'd be brave enough to write down all the words stuck in my throat. Maybe then she'd understand that her first butterfly was finally learning to spread his wings.