“Because they’re your parents.”
“That’s not actually a reason,” I stated. “Being related to someone doesn’t obligate you to fund their mistakes or tolerate their abuse.”
He sat back, looking utterly deflated. “I guess I hoped you were a bigger person than me.”
“Being a bigger person is overrated,” I said, standing up. “It’s just another way of saying let people walk all over you while you smile and pretend it doesn’t hurt.”
We finished our coffee in silence.
Before leaving, Travis handed me an envelope.
“This is the money your dad paid on the boat. All of it. Everything I owed him. It took me selling almost everything I owned, but it’s all there.”
I looked at the envelope without taking it. “That’s between you and him.”
“He won’t accept it from me. But maybe if it came from you.”
“No.”
“Please. I need to make this right.”
I grabbed my purse. “Then make it right with him directly. I’m not your intermediary, and I’m not interested in being pulled back into their drama.”
I left him sitting there with his envelope full of guilt money.
May brought warmer weather and an
Phân cảnh 5: Reconciliation attempts
unexpected visitor.
Natalie showed up at my apartment on a Saturday afternoon, looking tired but determined.
“We need to talk,” she said when I opened the door.
“Do we?”
“Please. 5 minutes.”
I let her in, mostly out of curiosity.
She sat on my couch and looked around my apartment like she’d never seen it before. Perhaps she hadn’t. I couldn’t remember the last time she visited.
“The divorce is final next week,” she said abruptly. “And I’ve been going to therapy.”
“Good for you.”
“My therapist thinks I need to apologize to you. She says I’ve been complicit in Mom and Dad’s favoritism and that I’ve benefited from them treating you poorly.”
I sat in the chair across from her. “Your therapist is right.”
Natalie’s eyes filled with tears.
“I knew, okay? I always knew they treated you differently. I just didn’t want to think about it too hard because it meant admitting I was part of the problem.”
“You were more than part of it. You actively participated. Every snide comment, every comparison, every time you took their side against me.”
“I know.”
The tears spilled over.
“I was jealous of you.”
That actually surprised me. “Jealous of what?”
“Your independence, your career, the way you never needed their approval the way I did. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the perfect daughter, and you just existed on your own terms.”
“It made me crazy.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Natalie wiped her eyes. “I’m not asking you to forgive me. I don’t deserve that. But I wanted you to know that I’m trying to be better.”
“I’m trying to understand how messed up our family dynamics were—are—how messed up they still are.”
“Unless Mom and Dad have had some kind of revelation I’m not aware of.”
She shook her head. “They’re still convinced you’re the villain in all this. Mom especially. She’s written this whole narrative where you deliberately destroyed the family out of jealousy and spite.”
“Of course she has.”
“I tried talking to them about it, about how they’ve treated you over the years. Dad hung up on me. Mom cried and said I was being cruel.”
“They don’t want to acknowledge it,” I said, a weariness in my voice. “That would require admitting they were wrong. And people like them can’t handle that.”
Natalie nodded slowly. “My therapist says that too. She says some people would rather maintain their delusions than face uncomfortable truths about themselves.”
We sat in silence for a moment.
“For what it’s worth,” Natalie said quietly, “I’m sorry for all of it. For every cruel comment, every time I stood by while they hurt you, every moment I benefited from their favoritism and pretended not to notice.”