Chapter 9 - My Mother Knew More
Mom arrived twenty minutes later.
Dad had called her.
She came in defensive.
Already crying.
“This family is falling apart.”
I handed her the forged documents.
She stopped crying.
Not because she was shocked.
Because she recognized them.
I saw it immediately.
“Mom.”
She looked away.
“What did you know?”
“Nothing.”
“Look at me.”
She did.
And I knew.
“You knew he was using my information.”
“I knew about the income documents.”
Dad turned toward her.
“What?”
Mom’s voice became frantic.
“Julian said Michael approved.”
“And the signature?”
“I didn’t know he copied that.”
“Did you give him my tax documents?”
She started crying again.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the venue wanted financial verification.”
“And why didn’t you ask me?”
“You always say yes eventually.”
There it was.
The family philosophy.
My consent was considered inevitable.
Therefore asking became optional.
Dad stared at her.
“You told me Michael sent those.”
“He would have.”
I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because that sentence explained my entire adult life.
He would have.
Michael would have paid.
Michael would have agreed.
Michael would have helped.
Michael would have forgiven.
So everyone simply skipped the inconvenient part where Michael got to decide.
Mom stepped toward me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me everything.”
Her face changed.
I knew there was more.
“What?”
“Everything Julian has promised using my name.”
Mom sat down.
Slowly.
The list took fifteen minutes.
The condo guarantee.
A honeymoon upgrade in Bora Bora.
A Mercedes lease Julian planned to sign after the wedding.
A $40,000 “family loan” to clear some of his credit cards.
A future investment in Chloe’s boutique.
And worst of all.
Mom and Dad expected me to help refinance their own house next year.
Nobody had mentioned it yet.
Apparently that would come after the wedding.
After I was emotionally softened again.
I stared at my parents.
“How much of my future have you already spent?”
Mom cried harder.
Dad looked ashamed.
Neither answered.
Then my phone buzzed.
Julian.
One message.
DAD SAID YOU’RE FIXING EVERYTHING.
I turned the screen toward them.
Dad closed his eyes.
“I never said that.”
May you like
I looked at him.
“Then maybe it’s time Julian hears no from someone besides me.”
