That hit me harder than I wanted to admit.
Not because it was true, but because she genuinely believed it.
She thought my frustration, my exhaustion, my disappointment, all of it came from envy instead of decades of being treated like an afterthought.
“You really think I’d be jealous of someone who can’t go a single month without borrowing money from Mom and Dad?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’ve built your whole life on handouts and still act like you’re entitled to more.”
She stood up then, eyes blazing.
“You think you’re better than us because you’ve got some middle-class job and one kid? News flash, Felix, you’re just bitter because no one spoils you anymore.”
I almost said something cruel.
But I caught Lucas’s face in my mind.
The look he gave me that night when he asked if he’d done something wrong.
