Before Oliver leaves, he makes sure to buy some cake for his mum. He takes the train down to his home suburb immediately after his brunch with Robin, and his mum picks him up from the station.

Oliver follows her inside the house. “Mum?”

“What’s that, honey?” she says curiously at his little packed box, complete with curling Matcha & Milk and sheer green ribbon.

“For you, mum,” Oliver says.

His mum frowns at the words. “Dessert? It’s not mother’s day already, is it?”

Oliver huffs. “Can’t I give my mum a present whenever because you're my mum?”

His mum fixes him with a look. “Is there something you want, Ollie?”

“OHH, Olly-boy!” Oliver’s older brother, Cameron, stomps into the kitchen. “What do you have there?”

“Be quiet!” Oliver’s younger brother, Henry, yells from the other room. “I’m trying to study here! Some of us have exams!”

Cameron ends up helping their mum open the box, revealing inside two slices of cake.

“This one is mango, and this one is chocolate-coffee,” Oliver points out.

“That’s really gay of you,” Cameron says.

Oliver glares at him. “Then I’m not getting you cake,” he scowls.

Cameron makes a pfftt sound. “I don’t eat cake. Give me a cold beer instead.”

“Well, this is very thoughtful of you,” his mum says, after telling Cameron off for mentioning alcohol so early in the day. (Cameron sulks out of the room.) “But…”

Oliver’s stomach drops. “Yeah? I thought you would like these.”

“They were very expensive, though, weren’t they?” his mother says, grimacing. “I could have bought a big chocolate cake from the supermarket for the same price.”

“Mum,” Oliver says, exasperated, “I’m literally living in the city. It’s nothing. You worked so hard for us—this is nothing compared to all that. And Cameron doesn’t want cake anyway, so this is enough for you to eat without it going bad.”

His mum gives him an exasperated look. “When did you get so sassy, Ollie? Fine, I’ll have it after.” She shoves him out of the kitchen. “Now go play with your brothers so I can cook.”

“But mum—”

“No arguing, young man.”

Oliver ends up in the living room, where Henry has his desk and all his work. As the youngest of them, he’s still at uni. “Where’s Cameron?”

Henry snorts. “He’s probably next door annoying the dogs.” On cue, there’s loud barking.

“He never grows up, seriously,” Oliver says. “Aren’t oldest siblings supposed to be responsible?”

“We can’t all be stars like you,” Henry says.

Oliver rolls his eyes. “I’m not.”

“Didn’t think you liked cake either,” Henry says. “You always gave your Easter chocolate to me.”

Oliver smirks, lunges forward to scrub Henry’s head. “Cos you’re my little brother, Henwy.”

“UGH!! Get off me!” Henry says, grin on his face. He sniffs. “I need that noggin for my bloody exams.”

“No swearing!” their mum calls out.

Henry pulls a face. “Are you sure I can’t crash at your place, Ollie? Anything to say the f-word.”

Oliver smirks. “Is that really worth it? You’ll have to eat my burnt pasta.”

“...And on second thought, nah thanks,” Henry says, as he always does.

“Saw the dessert shop on my way back from work,” Oliver adds, casually. “The guy there helped me pick out those flavours for Mum.”

“A guy at a cutesy dessert shop?”

“Most professional chefs are men,” Oliver says.

Henry pulls a face. “Right.” He sighs and stands up. “I’m not gonna get any work done. Wanna watch some footy replays?”

“Do you have anything on the Carlton womens’ Blues?”

Henry blinks at him. “What?”

“...Nevermind, whatever, I missed the match on Thursday.” Because I was talking with Robin.

Oliver’s chest tightens as he watches the match between Richmond and Port Adelaide—mens. For all that he loves his family, he’s also glad he’s been able to leave this environment. And if he didn’t live in the city, how likely would it have been to stumble across a certain delightful dessert shop?