“So I decided to give you a real gift this year: responsibility.”
The room had gone eerily silent. Daniel looked between me and his mother, his hands curling into fists.
“You’re overreacting,” he said through gritted teeth. “This is petty, Emily.”
“Petty?”
I let out a small laugh.
“You mean like deliberately excluding me from Christmas? Like making sure I was the only one sitting here without a gift while you all laughed about it?”
I set my glass down and met his gaze head-on.
“No, Daniel. This isn’t petty. This is fair.”
Linda let out a sharp, bitter laugh.
“You think this makes you look good? You think this makes you the bigger person?”
She shook the paper in her hand like that would somehow undo it.
“You’re just proving what we always knew. You’re selfish.”
I sighed dramatically.
“Ah, yes. The rich girl is selfish for not endlessly funing her in loss. How tragic.”
I leaned forward slightly.
“Here’s the thing, Linda. I don’t owe you anything. I never did. But I gave and I gave and I gave anyway, and instead of gratitude, I got sneers. So forgive me if I’m fresh out of generosity.”
“You can’t just stop paying,” she snapped, her voice rising in desperation.
I smiled again.
“Oh, but I can. The mortgage was in my name, remember?”
I shrugged.
“You’ll have to figure things out on your own now. I suggest you start looking at job listings.”
Her mouth fell open. The reality of it was finally sinking in.
For years, they had lived comfortably under the illusion that my money would always be there to catch them, that I would always be there to fix their problems.
Not anymore.
Daniel stood up abruptly, towering over me, his face twisted in frustration.
“You’re being ridiculous, Emily. This affects me too.”