Chapter 12 - Derek Finally Said Why He Needed Me to Be Worse
Three months later, Derek asked for a mediated family conversation.
Megan had filed for separation.
He had been unemployed for eleven weeks.
Dad wanted everyone together.
I refused.
A therapist agreed to facilitate a meeting with only Derek and me.
No Frank.
No Lucas.
No children.
Derek arrived looking smaller without the company polo and family audience.
He began badly.
“You destroyed my career.”
I stood.
The therapist stopped me.
Derek closed his eyes.
“Okay.”
He tried again.
“I destroyed my career.”
I sat back down.
That mattered.
Then he said:
“I hated that people trusted you.”
I had not expected that.
“At Peterson?”
“Everywhere.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You always get to be the reasonable one.”
“You think that happens automatically?”
“Dad compared us our whole lives.”
That surprised me.
My version had always been the opposite.
Derek was tougher.
More athletic.
More like Dad.
I was sensitive.
Bookish.
The son Frank worried would not survive.
Derek explained the other side.
Frank privately used me as the standard for adulthood.
Virgil finished college.
Virgil bought a house first.
Virgil became stable after divorce.
Virgil never needed Dad’s money.
“I could beat you at everything Dad respected,” Derek said. “Then somehow you still ended up being the one people called when something was serious.”
I stared.
“You burned my son’s toys because you were jealous of me?”
“No.”
He covered his face.
“I burned them because I needed you angry.”
“Why Lucas?”
“Because I knew nothing else would do it.”
That answer made forgiveness impossible that day.
Maybe for a long time.
He continued:
“I thought if you hit me, HR would see anything you said as personal.”
“You were willing to hurt him for your job.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
Just yes.
“And Dad knew?”
“He knew I wanted a confrontation.”
“Did he know why?”
“Mostly.”
I looked down.
Derek whispered:
“I thought the boys would laugh.”
“Your boys?”
“Yes.”
“They didn’t.”
“I know.”
“Lucas didn’t.”
“I know.”
“Mom didn’t.”
He began crying.
“I know.”
I asked the question I needed answered.
“Do you still believe Lucas needs to toughen up?”
Derek looked at me.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he walked away.”
That answer surprised me.
“He cried in front of everybody. He didn’t hit anyone. He told Tyler he was still sad instead of pretending he wasn’t.”
Derek swallowed.
“I don’t think I could’ve done that at six.”
Neither could I.
Maybe that was why Frank hated tenderness.
Maybe that was why Derek learned to mock it.
Because anything we were not allowed to possess became easier to despise in someone else.
May you like
Understanding that did not erase what he did.
It simply made the cruelty human enough to prevent me from pretending monsters came from nowhere.
