Fitzgerald couldn't name the feeling rising inside his chest.
Hearing someone say, with such certainty, that he had a brother willing to lose everything for him...
He hadn't known love like that could exist. Yet that wasn't what made his eyes burn.
It was the warmth. That unfamiliar warmth surrounding him. The gentle arms around him. The slow, reassuring hand stroking his back.
A hug.
He searched his memories. Had anyone ever held him like this as a child?
No.
He had been born into wealth beyond imagination, but also into expectations just as enormous. Every day had been another lesson. Sit straight. Speak carefully. Think ahead. Never show weakness.
When he fell, he was told to stand back up. When he cried, he was told men did not cry.
He accepted it. That was simply how the Rathbournes lived.
Then... A memory surfaced.
A hamster.
