There was a pause on the line. And then he whispered, “I’m scared I’ll mess it all up.”

“You won’t,” I said firmly. “You’re sitting in that parking lot instead of drinking. You already did the hardest part tonight. Now you just have to get yourself home, okay? I’ll stay on the phone with you the whole way.”

He sniffed. “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Always,” I said, turning to walk toward the back of the house for more privacy. “You’re my brother. Of course I’ll answer. Now go home. Put on a hoodie, get under the covers, and I’ll talk you through every minute of it.”

I heard his keys fumble and then the car engine turn on.

I stood near the edge of the porch, one hand on my hip, listening to the quiet hum of the car as he pulled out of the parking lot. I didn’t say anything. Just let him breathe.

“You still there?” he asked, voice a little steadier now.

“I’m here. You’re doing great. How far from the apartment?”

“Like… ten minutes, if I hit the lights.” He cleared his throat. “I’m kind of mad at myself for even going. I thought I was past this part.”

I softened my voice. “Austin, nobody’s past anything. It’s not linear. This is a process. Temptation’s gonna knock—but you didn’t open the door. That’s what matters. You’re choosing yourself. That’s huge.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Then: “Thanks, Tay.”

I could hear his blinker faintly ticking.

“You want me to stay on until you’re inside?”

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “That would help.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Okay. Well, Lily covered me in leaves today. Mira bit me. So it’s been a very normal, very chaotic day.”

That made him chuckle, just a little. “Mira bit you? She really is Travis’s kid.”

“Right? He keeps saying it’s teething, but I’m starting to think she’s just out for blood.”

Austin laughed again, this time a little easier. “I miss them. All of you.”

“We miss you too. You’re doing something really hard—and you’re still doing it. We’re so proud of you, Austin.”

He sniffed. “Almost home.”

I walked in slow circles on the deck, bare feet brushing against the cool wood. I could hear his keys jingle as he parked.

“Okay, walking in,” he muttered. “Lights on. Door locked. Shoes off.”

“Good job,” I said softly. “Now grab some water. Maybe a snack? You’ll feel better.”

There was the sound of the fridge opening.

“Grapes and pita chips. That counts, right?”

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “Now go curl up. I’ll let you go if you think you’re good.”

He was quiet. Then said, “Thanks, Tay. For not making me feel stupid. For answering.”

“Never stupid,” I whispered. “Always call me. Always. I’ll answer.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Aust.”

He hung up, and I stood there for a second with my phone still in my hand, just breathing.

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