Chapter 2 - THE ANATOMY OF A SACRIFICIAL DAUGHTER AND THE DISMANTLING OF THE PATRIARCH’S PRIDE
Arthur’s eyes were no longer on me;
they were fixed on my mother with a cold,
calculating intensity that I had only ever seen in his boardroom.
"Evelyn?"
he asked,
his voice a low rumble that vibrated the silver cutlery on the table.
"What business venture?"
My mother’s hands flew to her throat,
fingering the necklace as if it were a noose.
"It was...
it was just a small help,
Arthur,"
she whispered,
her eyes darting to Julian,
who had suddenly found a very intense interest in the patterns of the Persian rug.
"He had such a good idea for a startup,
and Mia had the savings,
so I thought..."
"You thought you would volunteer my life’s work to cover his fantasies?"
I interrupted,
the fire in my belly finally reaching my throat.
"You didn't 'think',
Mom,
you pressured."
I remembered the phone calls,
the soft,
manipulative weeping on the other end of the line.
'He's your brother,
Mia.'
'He doesn't have your strength,
Mia.'
'If he fails,
it's a reflection on all of us,
Mia.'
I stood up,
pushing my chair back so sharply that it screeched against the hardwood floor.
"I haven't bought new clothes in a year,"
I stated,
pointing to my dress,
the same one I had worn to the last three New Year’s parties.
"I haven't taken a vacation since I graduated,
and I drive a car that rattles every time I go over forty miles per hour."
I walked toward Julian,
who tried to retreat,
but there was nowhere to go but the wall.
"All while I was paying for your downtown loft,
your 'networking' dinners at five-star restaurants,
and your tailored suits."
I reached out and flicked the lapel of his expensive jacket,
the fabric feeling like an insult against my skin.
"This suit was paid for by my overtime hours at the firm,
the hours I spent while you were out 'finding yourself'."
Julian’s face twisted,
turning a mottled,
ugly purple.
"You think you're so much better than me?"
he hissed,
the mask of the charming younger brother finally falling away.
"You're just a boring,
corporate drone with no life,
so you used your money to control me."
The absurdity of it made me laugh,
a sharp,
barking sound that startled even myself.
"Control you?"
I asked,
shaking my head.
"I wasn't controlling you,
Julian,
I was enabling you."
"But that ends tonight."
I pulled a small,
white envelope from my clutch purse and tossed it onto his dinner plate,
right into the middle of his untouched steak.
"What is this?"
he asked,
staring at it as if it were a bomb.
"That,"
I said,
returning to my seat and picking up my wine glass with a steady hand,
"is the notice of termination for the automatic rent transfer."
"As of five o'clock this evening,
your landlord has been informed that I am no longer a guarantor on your lease."
"And since your credit score is in the basement,"
I added with a pleasant smile,
"I suggest you start packing tonight."
May you like
The scream that left Julian’s throat was not one of anger,
but of a terrified child realizing the world was no longer his playground.
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