Chapter 14 - TRAVIS FINALLY STOPPED CALLING IT MY MONEY
Travis asked to meet almost a year after Room 412.
Rebecca advised me that I did not have to.
I agreed anyway.
With Rebecca present.
He looked older.
Twenty-nine now.
No navy suit.
No startup swagger.
He worked as operations supervisor for a regional medical-supply distributor.
Salary.
Benefits.
A boss.
Structure.
Probably good for him.
He sat across from me.
“I’m paying Mom back.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
“And you.”
The restitution schedule had started.
Small monthly payments.
I had stopped checking the exact arrival date.
That felt like freedom.
Travis looked at his hands.
“I kept thinking you could afford it.”
“I could.”
His eyes lifted.
That surprised him.
I continued.
“I could have written the check.”
“Exactly.”
“No.”
He stopped.
I leaned forward.
“That was the entire problem.”
He looked away.
“I thought if NorthSound survived, I could repay everybody.”
“Like the detailing business?”
His jaw tightened.
“Don’t.”
“Like the supplement site?”
“I said don’t.”
There he was.
Then he caught himself.
Breathed.
Started again.
“Yes.”
The word was quiet.
“I always thought the next thing would fix the last thing.”
That sounded familiar.
Family logic.
Temporary.
One more loan.
One more rescue.
After this, everything stabilizes.
“What did you think would happen after I found out?” I asked.
Travis laughed weakly.
“I thought you’d be furious.”
“And?”
“Then Mom would cry.”
I stared.
“And?”
“You’d tell us never to do it again.”
There it was.
He knew me.
Or thought he did.
“And I’d pay?”
He nodded.
Shame finally crossed his face.
“Yes.”
I sat back.
“What changed?”
He looked at me.
“You didn’t.”
That answer was almost enough to make me angry.
Then I understood what he meant.
I did not become cruel.
Did not bankrupt him for entertainment.
Did not abandon Mom in the hospital.
I simply stopped completing the family pattern.
Travis continued.
“I used to think you had money because life worked out for you.”
I laughed.
“I worked.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
He thought.
Then nodded.
“Yeah.”
More honest.
He asked whether I would ever be his sister again.
I didn’t give him the reassurance he wanted.
“I already am.”
He looked confused.
“That doesn’t mean access.”
The word stayed between us.
Money access.
Emotional access.
Emergency access.
Forgiveness was not a master password.
Travis nodded slowly.
Maybe he understood.
May you like
Maybe he had learned the correct sentence.
Time would tell.
