“I’ve been doing this for years. Every time I watch them, I miss out on something for myself. I just want it to be fair.”
Mom let out a small huff, still stirring, still avoiding my gaze. “It’s not about fairness, Emma. It’s about love.”
“So, if I say no, does that mean I don’t love them?”
Lauren’s hands hit the table, making the dishes rattle. “You know what? Forget it. I’ll find someone else.”
She pushed back her chair and stormed out. The front door slammed behind her, shaking the walls.
The silence that followed was worse.
I glanced at my parents. Mom finally turned to look at me, her lips pressed in a thin line. Dad’s eyes flicked back to his crossword, but he wasn’t writing anymore.
Their disappointment hung in the air like a thick, invisible fog, settling over my shoulders and pressing into my chest.
I had done the right thing. I knew I had.
So why did it feel so awful?
The group chat with our family, once filled with updates, silly jokes, and dinner plans, went silent the moment I typed something. It was like I had become invisible.
Calls to Mom were short, her voice distant.
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