I slid off the chain, opened it fully, and stepped aside.
“10 minutes.”
They walked in like
they owned the place.
Melanie didn’t even take off her shoes.
Mom sat on the edge of the couch, adjusting her coat like it was a throne.
“Honey, I know we’ve had some misunderstandings, and maybe things were said in the heat of the moment.”
“You told me I wasn’t family,” I said quietly. “You opened the door to your son on Christmas and told him he wasn’t welcome.”
“I was upset.”
“You weren’t upset. You were cold. Calculated.”
Melanie rolled her eyes.
“Oh my god. Are we really still on this? You got offended and threw a tantrum. Now the whole family’s paying for it.”
I turned to her.
“You mean the utilities, the rent, the car, the credit lines? All the things I paid for without being asked and without ever using against you.”
“You did use them against us,” she snapped. “You ripped them away like a
child taking their toys back.”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
It came out sharp and bitter.
“You think I’m the child here?”
“We’re struggling,” Mom said suddenly, her voice cracking for effect. “Do you understand that? I can’t afford the rent without you. Your father’s credit is wrecked. Melanie’s working part-time at a bar.”
“I know,” I said. “I looked into the lease situation. You had 18 months to fix your finances before I pulled out.”
She sniffled.
“This isn’t you, Aaron. You’re kind, generous.”
“No,” I said. “I was convenient. And you confused that for kindness?”
They went quiet.
Melanie started pacing, arms flailing slightly.
“Okay, you’ve made your point. You wanted to punish us. We get it. But what do you want now? An apology? Fine. We’re sorry. Now, can you please just—”
“I don’t want an apology,” I cut in. “I want you to leave.”
I
want you to go back and figure it out on your own.
The same way I had to.
