Chapter 13
Gavin moved out of his apartment six months later.
Not back into Brenna’s bedroom.
Into a small house nearby.
He wanted a place where Tobin could eventually stay overnight without feeling like a guest in a temporary apartment.
Brenna supported the idea.
She did not pay for it.
She did not decorate it.
She did not help him choose furniture.
Those were his responsibilities.
Gavin began therapy.
Not because Brenna demanded it as a condition of marriage.
Because his entire life had been organized around avoiding conflict with Sybil.
He finally understood how expensive that avoidance had become.
One afternoon he told Brenna:
“I thought keeping Mom calm kept everyone calm.”
Brenna looked at him.
“And?”
“It only meant everyone else paid for whatever I didn’t want to say to her.”
That was accurate.
He had spent years letting Sybil make small decisions because arguing seemed pointless.
Holiday plans.
Guest lists.
Tobin’s clothes.
Which nanny worked weekends.
None seemed important enough to fight over.
Eventually Sybil learned resistance had no real cost.
Then she tried to rearrange a child’s identity.
Brenna could understand the pattern without excusing him.
Tobin began spending supervised afternoons at Gavin’s new house.
Then full days.
The therapist recommended waiting on overnights until Tobin stopped asking whether another boy would take his bed.
Gavin accepted the delay.
No complaint.
No pressure.
He showed Tobin his room during one visit.
Blue blanket.
Toy shelf.
A new stuffed octopus.
Tobin looked around.
“Who room?”
“Yours when you’re here.”
“Only mine?”
“Yes.”
“What if Owen comes?”
Gavin crouched.
“Owen has his own home.”
Tobin thought about it.
May you like
Then put the stuffed shark on the pillow.
The first overnight happened three weeks later.
