I finally looked up, meeting his shocked gaze.
“You told me I was a burden, David. I’m simply lightening the load. You no longer have to worry about managing my groceries, my laundry, or my internet.”
“You’re being completely unreasonable,” he snapped, his face flushing red. “Sarah is stressed out of her mind. We’re trying to save money, and you’re acting like like a stingy landlord.”
“A landlord charges rent,” I corrected gently. “You haven’t paid a dime in 8 months. Close the the door on your way out.”
He stood there for a long moment, his fist clenched, before turning and slamming the door behind him.
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly.
It hurt.
He was my son, the boy I had raised, the child I had comforted through scraped knees and broken hearts. But the man standing in my study wasn’t that boy anymore.
He was a user, and I refused to be used.
I picked up my phone and dialed a number I had saved earlier that week.
“Hello, this is Marcus Realy.”
A cheerful voice answered.
“Hi.” I smiled into the receiver. “I need someone to come out and do a home valuation. I’m putting my house on the market.”
Friday morning, Sarah tried a different tactic. She decided to play the victim.
I was watering the hydrangeas on the front porch when she stepped out, wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself. She had perfectly applied makeup, yet managed to look incredibly fragile.
“Teresa,” she began, her voice quivering slightly. “Can we talk?”
“I’m listening,” I answered, focusing on the soil.
“I feel like there’s a lot of hostility in the house right now,” she sighed. “David is so stressed, and I just… I don’t feel welcome here anymore. We’re family. Families are supposed to support each other.”
I turned off the hose hose and wiped my hands on a towel.
“What does support look like to you, Sarah?”
She perked up, thinking she had found an opening.
“Well, just a little more understanding. Like before, sharing meals, helping out with the chores, not locking us out of the Wi-Fi, and David mentioned you changed the bank account.”
Her slip was showing. She cared about the money.
“I did,” I confirmed.
“But his paycheck used to root there for the household expenses,” she pressed.
